by Lenora Bell
“I would make it work,” he said.
Indy laughed. “Onward into the fray, my antiquated dandy.”
“Antiquated? I’m only one year older than you. And I’m not a dandy, I’m a rogue.”
“You’re my rogue,” she said, placing her hand on his arm.
His heart beat faster. “And you’re my adventuress.”
“Let’s have an adventure, then.”
Sir Charles had hired a string quartet and they were playing something shimmering and virtuoso by Mozart. Raven had the thought that there should be music playing in every room he and Indy entered together.
Once upon a time he’d imagined entering every room with Indy on his arm, the proudest man on earth, the envy of every fellow in the room.
The admiration shining in Raven’s copper eyes made Indy feel drunk.
He’d wanted to give her something, meaning he wanted to court her. When he’d said those words, her heart had hopped in her chest like a child with a skipping rope.
Only, there would be no courting tonight. They were on a serious mission for crown and country. He trusted her. She trusted him.
But only for one night and only to see their task to completion.
But it did feel good to let her anger go, if only for one night. Just let it go.
Shrug off the weight of all the mistrust and hurt and fear.
She felt powerful with Raven at her side. Her step lighter. Her gaze keen and discerning.
They entered the room together with confidence and swagger as though they owned the place.
“There’s the Russian ambassador, Mr. Petrov,” he murmured in her ear, showing her with his eyes.
She scanned the room. “I don’t see Lady Catherine.”
“Or Sir Charles.”
“Did someone take my name in vain?” Sir Charles appeared behind them with his wife on his arm. “Lady India you are bewitching. Is that the famous Wish Diamond?”
“It is,” she replied.
Lady Sterling touched the necklace. “Simply stunning. Charles, why don’t you ever gift me with ancient treasures? Oh, that’s right, you are an ancient treasure.”
So much tension between those two. Indy’d noticed it right away.
“Where’s Lucy?” Indy asked.
“I don’t let her attend these affairs yet,” said Lady Sterling. “She’s still too young and so many of these gentlemen are so . . . jaded.”
Everything she said was a barb meant to wound her philandering husband. Indy sympathized. It must be terrible to be betrayed by the man you love, especially after you’d exchanged vows of fidelity.
“Have a wonderful time, Lady India,” said Lady Sterling. “I’m afraid I must be the hostess this evening, so you might not see much of me.”
“Quite all right,” said Indy.
“Come along, my dear. There’s the Spanish ambassador.” Lady Sterling steered her husband away.
“She’s the perfect hostess,” said Raven. “She’d make a better diplomat than Sir Charles, I do believe.”
When he said things like that, Indy wanted to hug him.
“Shall I introduce you to Petrov now?” asked Raven. “He’s a war hero who played a significant role at Waterloo. Wellington singled him out for praise. He’s been staring at you since you entered the room.”
“I noticed. He’s probably trying to decide whether this is the real Wish Diamond.”
“No, he’s staring at you.” Raven grinned and her knees nearly buckled, which wasn’t very conducive to prowling like a femme fatale in search of her next victim.
“No, wait,” she said. “There’s Lady Catherine.”
Lady Catherine walked across the room, a tall figure in a long cape of white with a white turban upon her head, and a necklace shaped like two snakes’ heads intertwining around her throat.
“Lady Catherine, it’s been too long.” Indy clasped her friend’s hands. She had grown frail since the last time Indy saw her.
“Too long, my dear.”
“Lady Catherine, may I present the Duke of Ravenwood?”
“You may, although I can’t promise to be civil,” said Lady Catherine.
Same old Catherine. Never one to mince words.
“Lady Catherine.” Raven bowed. He was so delectable in formal evening attire. The tailored coat made his shoulders even wider and his midsection so trim. Indy knew wicked things about his body. She’d had her thighs spread over his narrow hips. She’d counted the ridges of muscles on that abdomen.
She’d opened her mouth and fit his . . . blast! Don’t think about that.
“What’s this I hear about you planning a wedding?” Lady Catherine asked with a disapproving glare at Raven.
She was disapproving of men in general, and marriage in particular.
Indy would tell her the truth later but for now she had to go along with the charade.
“We finally decided to tie the knot.”
Catherine frowned. “No, no.” She shook her head from side to side. “No, this simply won’t do at all. He has a goodly nose, but his brow is deficient. Far too low and flat.”
Oh dear.
“I beg your pardon?” asked Raven.
“You won’t make a suitable husband for my Indy,” Lady Catherine said sternly. “Your brow is deficient. And your eyes are too cold. And you have a deadened heart.”
Indy laughed uneasily. “I’m sure no one has told His Grace that he has a deficiency before.”
“Certainly not,” said Raven.
“Lady Catherine believes in something she calls the portents and omens of a face,” explained Indy.
“And my face is insufficiently auspicious,” said Raven.
“It augers ill,” agreed Lady Catherine. “Low brows denote a brooding disposition. Also a dominating one. And Indy will never be dominated.”
“So I’ve learned,” said Raven.
A slight man with pale blonde hair wearing a white coat trimmed in gold approached.
“Oh there you are Dr. Lowe,” said Lady Catherine. “I want to introduce you to my friend Lady India. My dear,” she said to Indy, “this is the Dr. Lowe I wrote to you about. He hails from Vienna. And this is the Duke of Ravenwood.”
Dr. Lowe bowed. He had a thin moustache and his hair was thinning on top.
“You are a doctor of medicine?” asked Indy.
“A mesmerist,” replied Dr. Lowe. “As a young boy, I studied by the side of the distinguished Dr. Franz Mesmer who, sadly, passed through the veil fifteen years past. I now continue his work in healing the gravely ill and giving hope to the hopeless.”
“I’ve heard of Dr. Mesmer’s theories,” said Raven. “Some believe them to be quackery.”
Dr. Lowe bristled. “Fools. Dr. Mesmer was a genius of the highest order. Soon the entire world will celebrate his teachings on the natural energetic transference known as animal magnetism. Lady Catherine has kindly agreed to be my patroness in the dissemination of the venerable doctor’s theories.”
There was something Indy didn’t like about the sanctimonious and self-important Dr. Lowe, but if Lady Catherine was his patroness, she’d give him the benefit of the doubt.
“I hope you will come and visit me while you’re here,” said Lady Catherine.
“You purchased a chateau near Montrouge?” asked India.
“Dear Dr. Lowe advised me as to the purchase. My apartments in Paris were too close and unhealthful. He says I must take more fresh air to aid in my recovery.”
“Are you ill?” Indy touched her friend’s arm. She wanted to speak with her alone, without Dr. Lowe in hovering attendance.
Raven caught Indy’s eye and she understood that he would remove Dr. Lowe for her.
“Have you visited the ambassador’s residence before, Dr. Lowe?” Raven asked.
“I haven’t.”
“Allow me to give you a brief tour.” Raven led Dr. Lowe away.
“You’re not really going to wed that overbearing duke, are you?” aske
d Catherine.
Indy led Catherine to a line of potted ferns at the edge of the ballroom. “I’m not,” she whispered.
“I knew it! Then why tell people you are?”
“That’s a question with a complicated answer. We’re here together on a mission.” Raven had told her not to trust anyone, but Lady Catherine was one of her oldest friends.
“What type of mission?” asked Catherine.
“I wonder if perhaps you’ve heard of any British antiquities that might have been stolen and brought to Paris to be sold?”
Catherine considered that. “Something of great significance?”
“Yes. Enormous significance.”
“I’ve heard no rumors. Speaking of antiquities, that’s not the real Wish Diamond necklace, is it?”
“What do you think?”
Catherine bent closer. “It’s the real one.”
“Yes.”
“He must trust you to allow you to wear his priceless treasure.”
“I think he does trust me, in his own way.”
“Just so you don’t give him too much trust. Men like him can never be owned by one woman alone.”
Indy had thought the same thing when she set out on this journey. Now she wasn’t so sure.
“Ravenwood says these affairs are dull but for me it’s very interesting. I’ve never seen so many foreign dignitaries gathered together. The collective power in this room is astonishing. These are the men who wage wars, or embrace peace, uphold treaties or violate them. They hold the fates of so many lives in their hands.”
“Politicians and diplomats are merely men, and power has a tendency to corrupt,” said Catherine.
“True. I can’t help thinking that fewer wars would be waged if there were more females in power.”
“Hear, hear.” Lady Catherine lifted an imaginary glass.
“Are you still feeling unwell, Catherine? You’re awfully slender.”
“I do suffer those debilitating vertigo spells from time to time. Dr. Lowe has me on a strict diet to quiet my animal spirits.”
“How did you meet him?”
“He found me. He told me that I called to him across the ether and his spirit responded to mine.”
“But what exactly does he do for you if he’s not a medical doctor?”
Catherine laughed softly. “You wouldn’t call it doing anything but the effects are so powerful. He makes gestures, and places his hand just here,” she touched her solar plexus, just below her rib cage. “Sometimes he’ll leave his hand there for hours. And then I have the most peculiar sensations and eventually I will have a convulsion, which is a crisis of sorts and brings about the cure.”
Indy wondered if perhaps the man didn’t put his hand a little bit lower on Lady Catherine’s person. She’d experienced a few convulsions herself lately.
She’d never ask her friend such a personal question, of course.
Before Indy could express more concern, Dr. Lowe joined them again.
“You’re looking peaked, Lady Catherine. It’s time for your treatment. We will leave now.”
Indy watched in consternation as her normally irascible, opinionated friend was led away like an invalid.
“If that little man hails from Vienna I’ll eat that diamond for breakfast. Liverpool more like,” said Raven, appearing at her side.
“I was thinking the same thing. It’s almost as if she’s in thrall to him somehow. I don’t like how much influence he seems to have over her. She said he treats her by passing his hand over her body and producing convulsions.”
“It’s all a bunch of charlatanism.”
“I’ll have to go and visit her when our search is concluded so that I may determine whether she’s being taken advantage of in some way.”
“Most likely he’s after her fortune.”
“Look sharp, Your Grace, the Russians are coming,” Indy whispered.
“That’s Petrov’s aide, Mr. Sokolov, approaching,” Raven replied.
“Your Grace.” Mr. Sokolov bowed. “His Excellency Boris Petrov conveys his greetings.”
Raven inclined his head. “Mr. Sokolov, allow me to present Lady India Rochester.”
Sokolov bowed over her hand.
“Would you and your charming companion care to join His Excellency for a drink?”
“We would be delighted,” said Indy.
They followed Sokolov across the room. Ambassador Petrov was a handsome, forceful-looking man with iron gray hair and thick black eyebrows, whom Indy judged to be in his early fifties.
Introductions were made, Ambassador Petrov speaking more to her bosom than her face.
“It’s such an honor to meet you, Your Excellency,” she said. Now she could practice her newfound feminine wiles. She fluttered her eyelashes. “His Grace told me about your bravery during the war.”
Petrov puffed out his chest and the many gold and silver medals pinned to his black coat caught the light from the chandeliers.
“I’ve heard many stories about you as well, Lady India. About the unusual color of your eyes. Though I must say the stories were all false.”
“Oh?” She pouted. “I don’t live up to the stories?”
“On the contrary,” said Petrov. “Your beauty far surpasses expectations. I never thought it possible, but your eyes outshine even the Wish Diamond.”
“Do you take an interest in antiquities, Your Excellency?” asked Indy.
“I am a connoisseur of all things of rare and priceless beauty.” His gaze slid across her bosom and Indy suppressed the urge to cover the tops of her breasts with her hands.
Raven cleared his throat. “I beg your pardon, but I must go and have a word with Sir Charles.”
“Of course,” said Petrov. When he’d left, the ambassador waved his hand and a servant appeared bearing a tray of small glasses filled with clear liquid. “Would you care to try some superior Russian vodka, Lady India?”
That’s what she was here for. To use her feminine wiles, drink any man under the table, and find the Rosetta Stone. “But of course. I adore vodka.”
“Have you visited Russia?” he asked.
She replied that she had. In Russian.
He smiled the first genuine smile she’d seen on his lips and switched to Russian, praising her accent, as well as her eyes.
Indy followed his lead and swallowed one vodka, and then another, waiting to turn the conversation back to antiquities.
Several hours later, Raven signaled to Indy that it was time to leave for their next engagement at Le Triton’s gaming house.
He’d watched her work with so much pride.
She was a natural.
She knew instinctively how to work a room without appearing to have any aim. He had no doubt she had catalogued everything she saw and heard in the same way she collected artifacts and information on her archaeological expeditions.
She’d had Petrov eating out of her palm and plying her with the superior Russian vodka that Sir Charles had made sure to have on hand for the ambassador.
Raven hadn’t been worried about Indy holding her alcohol. Any other female of his acquaintance would have been falling over drunk after the amount of whisky she’d consumed on their carriage ride from London to Dover.
Even in Paris where people were freer with their emotions, she was like the diva in an Italian opera. All the world was her stage, and men only the bit players.
He wanted to be in her show. He wanted to be in the chorus, his voice the foundation for her soaring high notes.
“It’s not the Russians,” she whispered as he helped her into her velvet cloak.
“What makes you so sure?”
“It’s only a strong feeling, but there was no gloating, no indication that Petrov had anything on his mind except the desire to peer down my bodice.”
She tied purple silk bonnet ribbons into a bow under her chin. He had the strangest sensation that she should be donning a black beaver top hat instead. She had looked quite dashing u
nder the curving brim of a top hat.
“Everything leads to Le Triton,” she whispered.
“He won’t know what hit him,” said Raven.
He didn’t bother to deny it. They were a team now and he was lucky to have her in his corner.
She took his arm as they waited for their carriage.
She was her own woman.
No man would ever own or tame her.
If Raven had her as his own he would know that it wasn’t in his power to give her a long rein or to allow her to have her freedom. It wasn’t a question of giving her freedom.
The only question would be whether he could keep up with her.
Chapter 19
Indy pressed her nose against the carriage window. Paris by way of superior Russian vodka looked different—fuzzier, friendlier, even more romantic.
The elation in her heart expanded to include every person they passed on the street. Everyone looked so beautiful. The moon was shining so brightly. Everyone had a smile on their lips.
Raven had trusted her to interrogate Petrov. He hadn’t interfered or tried to direct the conversation.
“Do you think Sir Charles could be involved in the theft?” she asked Raven. He’d spent much of the evening in conversation with their host.
“I hate to think so, but it’s possible. His mistress, Margot Delacroix, is one of Le Triton’s close associates.”
“She could have compromising information on Sir Charles. She could have blackmailed him into giving Le Triton the information about how to remove the stone from the Society of Antiquaries while it was there on loan from the museum.”
“It seems the likeliest explanation at this stage. Miss Delacroix is bound to be at La Sirène this evening.”
“There are ladies at the gaming tables?”
“I wouldn’t call them ladies.”
“They’re just women earning a living, they’ve been left few options in this male-dominated world. I feel no enmity for them.”
“You have revolutionary ideas.”
“I’ve never taken my privileged birth for granted. I was born wealthy and titled. I didn’t earn these privileges, I was born into them. I don’t think they make me any better than anyone else. I’d live as a commoner if I didn’t benefit so much from my brother’s bottomless pockets. Which I intend to dip into this evening at the rouge et noir table.”