by Stella Riley
‘I know. The last I saw of him, he and his pups were passing through the auditorium towards the front door. So if she’s not changing, where is she?’
‘Froissart wanted to see her.’
His brows rose. ‘He did? Why?’
She shrugged. ‘He’s probably got some new bee in his bonnet. It happens sometimes.’
A faint sense of unease prickled Ashley’s mind. He said, ‘How long ago was this?’
‘A few minutes. If you’re worried, they’ll be in his office.’
‘Hell!’ Ashley spun on his heel, aware that there were two ways to approach that particular room – one of them being from the main entrance. ‘Froissart’s not in his office. He’s out front, talking to de Bergerac. Francis – with me!’
* * *
Athenais knocked on Froissart’s door, then opened it and took a step inside. A hand closed round her wrist, jerking her forward – and she found herself facing the Marquis d’Auxerre while, behind her, one of his acolytes turned the key in the lock.
For a second, shock held her immobile. Her mouth went dry and her brain refused to function. Smiling coldly, the Marquis strolled towards her saying, ‘Did you think I had forgotten you, ma petite? You should have known better.’
Swallowing the bitterness in her throat, she concentrated on keeping her spine straight and her voice steady.
‘Oddly enough, I prefer not to think of you at all.’
He halted no more than two steps away.
‘Now why do I not believe that?’
‘Because you don’t want to?’ she hazarded.
‘Because the women I want don’t refuse me. And I don’t intend you to be the first.’
Athenais wished she could look away from his face. With that unpleasant curl still bracketing his mouth, he conducted a lingering appraisal of her body and let his gaze dwell with unconcealed intent on her décolletage. She told herself he wouldn’t touch her – wouldn’t do anything with his two friends in the room – and then wasn’t so sure. Also, after last time, she couldn’t stop her stomach clenching with fright.
Using every skill at her command, she managed a cool smile and said, ‘Forcing me won’t change the fact that I’ve said no, will it? And I have said no – repeatedly – but never with the intention of insulting you. It’s simply that I … I refuse all such offers.’
Please God, let him understand and back off, she prayed. If he finds out about Ashley, there’s no telling what he’ll do.
The Marquis sighed, closed the space between them and gripped her chin with hard, merciless fingers. He said, ‘So many words. I am weary of them.’ And pulling her against him, he took her mouth in a rough, possessive kiss.
Instinctively, Athenais twisted away but he clamped his other hand on her arm and held her fast, his tongue invading her mouth.
The door-handle rattled and was immediately followed by the deafening thud of a booted foot. The door flew in, its lock smashed, and the fellow who had been leaning against it was catapulted into the room to collide with Froissart’s desk.
It happened so fast that the Marquis didn’t have time to do more than turn his head.
Ashley stood in the doorway with Francis at his shoulder.
‘Get your hands off her,’ snapped Ashley. And held out a hand towards Athenais.
Wrenching herself from the Marquis’s suddenly slack hold, she stumbled to his side. His arm closed round her and he said, ‘Are you all right? The bastard hasn’t hurt you?’
She shook her head. ‘No. There was no time. How --?’
‘Later. Francis – take her back to Pauline, would you? And you two …’ His glance skimmed d’Auxerre’s apparently transfixed friends, ‘Out.’
‘They will stay.’ D’Auxerre was plainly maintaining his sangfroid with an effort. ‘These gentlemen don’t take their orders from such as you.’
‘Do they not?’ Ashley turned his head, giving Athenais a little push in the direction of the door. ‘Francis?’
Taking Athenais’s reluctant hand, Francis said, ‘Sure?’
‘Perfectly.’ And again to the mute pair, his expression at complete variance with his butter-soft tone, ‘Don’t make me say it again.’
They didn’t. With muttered apologies to the Marquis, they followed Francis and Athenais from the room. The door closed behind them.
Ashley’s smile was openly insulting.
‘Where do you find them? Since they’re so indistinguishable from each other, one is tempted to wonder if you don’t have them specially bred. One also wonders what possible uses you have for them.’
The inference was plain and the Marquis flushed.
‘Mind your mouth. You killed Henri and Jean-Claude.’
‘One of them, certainly.’
‘I can have you charged with murder.’
‘Not unless you want to explain why you sent them to kill me. And before you put that string-and-clapper arrangement that serves you for a brain to work – allow me to inform you that I have a witness to the attack.’
‘Who?’
‘Does it matter?’
D’Auxerre drew a steadying breath and decided to attack the core issue.
‘You will get in my way once too often.’
‘I’ll get in your way as often as is necessary,’ retorted Ashley, strolling to within two feet of the Marquis. ‘Tell me something. Just how arrogant or thick-skinned or downright stupid are you? The lady does not want you. Which bit of that can’t you understand? Because I’m not sure how much more simply I can put it. She doesn’t want you. She is not available … and she never will be. And finally, if you ever touch her again, I won’t be wasting my breath on conversation.’
There was a short, airless silence and then the Marquis said, ‘You’ve had her.’
‘What a banal mind you have.’ Revulsion coiled in Ashley’s stomach but he kept his expression unreadable and his voice perfectly level as he continued to press his attack. ‘But I imagine the possibility hurts. The thought that I, with my shabby coat and empty pockets, might have succeeded where you, despite your title and money, have failed.’ He paused to let his words sink home. Then, ‘I believe I just threatened you. Didn’t you notice?’
‘I noticed. You can’t touch me. I, on the other hand, can brush you from my path at any time I choose.’
Ashley’s laugh was like splinters of ice.
‘You think so? It didn’t work out so well for you the last time, did it? Of course, if you were a man, you’d come for me yourself instead of sending your pets. Then again, if you were any kind of gentleman, you wouldn’t be forcing yourself on an unwilling woman. But perhaps you don’t mind looking ridiculous?’
‘You’ve had her,’ said d’Auxerre again, his voice thick with temper. ‘If you hadn’t, you’d think twice about making an enemy of me. It is the biggest mistake you’ve ever made.’
‘No. The biggest mistake I ever made was not putting your head through the wall the day I first caught you half-way to raping a frightened girl.’ He fixed the other man with an expression soul-hacking contempt. ‘You just don’t learn, do you?’
‘From you? I’ve learned enough. You’re a bag of wind. You daren’t do more than puff words at me for fear of reprisals. As for your little whore, I’ll --’
Without waiting to hear the rest and thankful that the moment had finally come, Ashley moved. He slammed his fist into the fellow’s jaw hard enough to loosen a couple of teeth and knock him to the ground but not quite hard enough to render him unconscious. Then, standing over the Marquis with a look in his eye that spoke of terrible temptation to put a boot in his groin, he said, ‘You were saying?’
D’Auxerre struggled to his knees and spat blood.
‘You’ll die for that.’
‘I doubt it. Get up, why don’t you? Get up and try hitting me back.’ He waited for a moment and then, in a tone as insulting as he could make it, added, ‘But you won’t do that, will you? You won’t even issue your challenge because
you haven’t the nerve to face up to a man. The only thing you’re good at is hurting girls. You’re just a stinking, pusillanimous coward.’ Another pause. Then, ‘Stay away from Athenais. If you touch her again, I will kill you. And enjoy doing it.’
* * *
Cornered immediately afterwards by an extremely anxious Athenais, Ashley merely said that he’d set the Marquis straight on a few things.
Privately, to Francis, he said disgustedly, ‘The fellow’s lily-livered. I insulted his intelligence, his manhood and his honour. I even knocked the bastard down. If he had an ounce of backbone, he’d have named a time and place – but he didn’t. So the only thing I can hope is that I’ve drawn his fire from Athenais to myself … because if I haven’t, sooner or later I’m going to have to do something terminal.’
‘Kill him, you mean?’
‘Either that or cut off his bollocks and ram them down his throat. You’re the poet. Which one do you think is more apt?’
~ * * ~ * * ~
TEN
The following day brought another visit from Celia, this time in tears.
‘What’s Verney done now?’ asked Francis wearily.
‘I don’t know where he is,’ sobbed Celia. ‘He hasn’t been home for two days. Do you think … do you really think he’s with that woman?’
‘I’ve no idea – but it seems likely.’ He looked at her, not entirely unsympathetic but feeling as though he could well do without this. ‘I’m sorry, Celia. I don’t know what you expect me to do about it.’
‘Find him and tell him he must break with her and come back to me.’
‘And you think he’s going to do it because I say so? Of course he isn’t.’ He pinched the bridge of his nose and sat down beside her. ‘I can’t say I ever thought it would happen but, realistically, this was always a possibility. You’re not married so you have no hold over him. If he doesn’t want to be with you any more, there’s nothing anyone can do about it.’
‘But I gave up everything for him.’
Nothing that apparently mattered very much to you, thought Francis. But said dryly, ‘He gave up quite a lot himself, as I recall.’
She made a dismissive gesture with one hand.
‘He loves me. He’s always loved me. And I don’t understand why he’s behaving this way – especially now, when there’s finally a chance we could marry.’ She fumbled for her handkerchief and wiped her brimming eyes. ‘This can’t happen. It’s all wrong. We’ve been together for over eight years, Francis!’
‘I know.’
‘And I’ve never looked at another man in all that time.’
Having seen the way she’d eyed Ashley, Francis rather doubted that – though he was ready to believe she’d probably never done much more than look.
‘Of course not.’
‘So he can’t just walk away from me. I won’t let him.’
He sighed. ‘Then talk to him. And I mean talk, Celia – not a barrage of tears and recrimination. But if things don’t go the way you wish, there really isn’t a great deal to be done.’
Her mouth compressed into a hard line and she stared down at her lap, where her fingers were systematically shredding her handkerchief. ‘You said I have no hold over him – but I have. A few months ago when we were short of money, he persuaded me to do something I shouldn’t have.’
‘What, exactly?’
‘I … I took something.’
Francis frowned. ‘You mean you stole it?’
She nodded.
‘From whom?’
‘That doesn’t matter. Hugo said it was something this person shouldn’t have anyway and, in the right quarters, it would be worth a lot of money. He made it sound like a good thing – as though we’d be doing the – doing a favour for someone important. Only afterwards, it started to feel … awkward. I couldn’t face my – the person in question so I had to invent a quarrel. Worse still, the man Hugo said would pay for the – for this thing I took, didn’t. Or, at least, I don’t think he did.’ She looked up. ‘But what’s important is that Hugo wouldn’t want people to know what he’s done and how he made me help him.’
Francis was beginning to get a feeling of dire foreboding. He said, ‘Celia … please tell me you didn’t steal Lucy Walter’s so-called marriage lines and give them to Hugo to sell?’
Her eyes flew to meet his.
‘How do you --?’ She stopped abruptly.
‘How do I know? You’ve just more or less told me.’ He dropped his head in his hands and tried to think past the fact that this was getting worse and worse – and God alone knew what Ashley was going to make of it. ‘Christ. I’m having trouble believing that even you could be this stupid. I’m assuming Verney expected Ned Hyde to buy it?’
She nodded. ‘He said that, even if it was a forgery, Hyde would still want it so Lucy couldn’t use it to cause trouble. But he didn’t.’
‘So what did Verney do next?’
‘Next? I don’t know. For all I know, he still has it.’
He doesn’t, thought Francis. Thomas Scot does. Which means Verney’s loyalties are, at best, divided. Then, knowing better than to expect Celia to concentrate on anything that didn’t personally involve her, he said, ‘If you think you can use this to blackmail Verney into marrying you, you’re deluded. It was you who stole the letter, not him. And since you don’t know what he did with it, you can’t prove that he did anything at all. All you’ll achieve is to brand yourself a thief.’
‘But --’
He stood up.
‘There aren’t any buts. The whole thing is a petard waiting to blow up in your face. If you threaten Verney with this, he’ll say exactly what I’ve just said – and then he probably will walk out on you. If your relationship with him is crumbling and you want to shore it up, you’re going to have to keep your temper and hold an adult conversation – or, alternatively, put a smile on your face, something enticing on the rest of you and seduce him. If neither of those work, nothing will.’
* * *
‘So what do you want to do about Verney?’ asked Francis, when he finished relating the whole sorry tale to Ashley.
‘Not a great deal. If, as Eden believes, the marriage-lines are forged, Verney hasn’t exactly done much damage. But since he could have done, I’ll make sure Hyde is aware that his allegiance is questionable – and what happens thereafter will be up to him, not me.’ Ashley let his head fall back and communed silently with the ceiling for a few moments. Then he said, ‘It’s galling to think of the time I’ve wasted over Lucy Walter and Henri de Vauvallon. But in matters like this, I suppose there’s always a red herring or two. And events have now moved on.’ He sighed. ‘His Majesty wants me to burgle Lucy’s lodgings and retrieve his letters. If Celia had taken those as well, she could have saved me a great deal of trouble.’
Francis stared at him.
‘You’re not really going to do it, are you?’
‘I said I would. I also said it would have to wait until I’m fit enough to go tripping around rooftops. But since I’m reluctant to ruin my only remaining suit of clothes, I’m going to have to ensure that the lady is otherwise engaged and hope that Jem’s dalliance with the maidservant is sufficiently advanced to let me in through the front door – after which, I’ll only have to pick a couple of locks.’
‘Only?’
‘Yes. It’s not especially difficult.’
A prickle of suspicion made its way down Francis’s neck.
‘Why do I get the feeling you’re telling me this for a purpose?’
Ashley grinned. ‘Because I want you to reserve a box for Mistress Walter and her friends at the theatre tomorrow evening. Tell her it’s by way of an apology from Celia, if you like. And then, since you don’t need to watch every single performance, you can come and watch the street for me instead. All being well, we’ll be back for the final curtain.’
‘Watch the street for what?’
‘Unexpected visitors.’
‘And if I see
any? No. Don’t tell me. I’m supposed to hoot like an owl – or some such thing.’
‘I was thinking more in terms of a piercing whistle. But if hooting is your preference, I haven’t any objection.’ He paused. ‘So you’ll do it?’
‘Why not? Since larceny already runs in the family, what have I got to lose?’
* * *
Ashley told Jem that they were going house-breaking.
‘Gawd!’ said Mr Barker. ‘Totting a crib? Are you dicked in the nob? You had enough to say when I was doing a bit of dipping!’
‘That was because you were bad at it.’
‘I did all right,’ muttered Jem sulkily. ‘And you’re no ace cracksman.’
‘I’m careful and I plan – which is generally sufficient. Can you get me a couple of lengths of strong wire?’
‘Reckon so. What for?’
‘I need to make some lock-picks.’
‘Gawd!’ breathed Jem again.
‘And, while I’m working on that, you can continue your flirtation with that saucy piece at Mistress Walter’s lodgings. Make an assignation with her for tomorrow night.’
‘A what?’
‘Tell her you’ll be round tomorrow evening with some wine.’
Jem scratched his head and looked moderately more cheerful.
‘Ah. Well, it’s an ill-wind, ain’t it, Colonel?’
‘It certainly is.’
* * *
An hour or so later and having searched the entire house, Athenais found Ashley in the attic bending wire into small, oddly intricate shapes. She said, ‘What on earth are you doing?’
He tossed the pieces aside and smiled at her.
‘Nothing very important.’ Reaching out, he took her hand and pulled her down beside him. ‘You’ll want to ask about last night.’
She nodded, colouring a little.
After the encounter with the Marquis, Ashley had accompanied her to her room, pulled the pins from her hair and kissed her with his usual languorous skill. Then he’d said, ‘I’m not going to stay with you tonight. Not because I don’t want to – but because that piece of vermin has left a bad taste in my mouth … and also because there’s something you and I need to talk about before taking matters any further. And so, since I can’t guarantee to keep my hands off you, I’m going to sleep upstairs.’