The Deception

by Catherine Coulter

  “If you mean by that, your grace, that the duke is experienced in every wickedness known in this jungle of London, then I can see your point. Oh, dear, forgive me. I shouldn’t have said that. It’s just that he makes me want to throw him out the carriage window.”

  “I wouldn’t fit,” the duke said. “You wouldn’t either, given your, er, well, you wouldn’t.”

  “I know. His father made me want to hurl him about as well. Such a lovely man he was.” She sighed and closed her eyes.

  “This is the longest ride of my life,” the duke said. The remainder of the trip was horse-hoof clopping and no conversation. When the carriage finally turned onto the long gravel drive that led to Sanderson House, Marianne Clothilde said brightly, “Here we all are. Ready to enjoy ourselves. You children will enjoy yourselves won’t you, and not argue any more? Now that you’ve relieved yourselves of all your mutual bile. You won’t seek to replenish it?”

  “I have no bile,” the duke said. “I never had any bile at all until she came.”

  “Yes, dearest. I’m always struck by the beauty of all the lights here. Isn’t it lovely, Evangeline?”

  She said, “Yes,” but she was looking at his shadowed face.

  “Do you like to waltz, your grace?” “Yes,” he said.

  “He’s one of the best dancers in all of London,” Marianne Clothilde said.

  “You’re his mother. You must say all manner of things because it is your duty to do so.”

  “Do you really think so, Evangeline? I’m not so certain. Were I younger, why, I believe I should fall in love with him just as all the other ladies do.”

  “I hope there will be enough sober gentlemen who can waltz well,” Evangeline said.

  They heard the strains of the German waltz. It made her tap her foot in the carriage. She wondered if John Edgerton would be present. She knew she had to see him, but she didn’t want to, not tonight. Tonight she wanted a bit of enjoyment for herself, a few hours to forget what she’d done and what she was.

  At the top of massive stone steps, a butler, looking dashing in a bright red velvet doublet, stiff white ruff, and the hose of the sixteenth century, said, “Your grace, welcome.” The duke slipped on his mask, as did Marianne Clothilde. Evangeline’s was already firmly in place. No one knew her here. She could do as she pleased. She gave the duke a wicked smile as she placed her hand on his other arm. The butler led them up a wide staircase, past dozens of laughing guests dressed in outlandish fashions. There were footmen everywhere, dressed as courtiers from Queen Bess’s court. They should have looked ridiculous, but in the sparkling, outrageously garbed company they looked dashing.

  “I want you to enjoy yourself tonight,” Marianne Clothilde said to Evangeline when the duke turned to speak to one of his friends. “My son is being proprietary, which I find quite charming. Normally he is anything but. Yes, do have fun, Evangeline.”

  “It is kind of you to invite me, your grace. Thank you. I don’t think it would be possible not to enjoy oneself here,” she added, looking about her. “How can one possibly dance? There are so many people.” “You will need an experienced partner,” the duke said as he again took her arm. “I daresay that I will manage quite nicely.”

  “Not just yet, dearest,” said Marianne Clothilde. “Here’s Lady Sanderson, dressed as a Roman matron. I suppose it is clever. Lucille, how are you? Such a delightful evening. And so very many guests.”

  “Yes,” said Lady Sanderson. “It’s so very nice, isn’t it? Now, who is this person with her hand on our dear duke’s arm?”

  “This is Madame de la Valette, Lucille. She is a cousin.”

  “A cousin? I do wish I could see your face, my dear. I hope you’re lovely enough for our duke. He’s so very amiable, yet it is difficult to present young ladies who will please him. You are relatively young, aren’t you? He has very high standards, doesn’t he? So fickle. How are Sabrina and Phillip, your grace? Did you feel any more of the tender emotions toward her when you saw her married to one of your oldest friends? She is breeding, you know.”

  The duke, who was quite used to Lucille’s heavy hand, her relentless monologues meant to distress, amuse, and outrage, merely smiled and said, “Everything is in its proper place. Madame de la Valette is quite young, and tolerably toothsome. Bring me no chattering debutantes, Lucille. Now, if you ladies will excuse us, Madame and I will waltz. Do you think you’re spry enough, Evangeline?” he added in a low voice.

  “I’m wavering, your grace, but I shall try. Goodness, that woman is amazing.”

  “Yes, and Lady Sanderson knows well what she’s about.”

  “There are always so many cousins,” they heard Lady Sanderson saying to Marianne Clothilde. “I hope this one isn’t destitute as most of them are.”

  “Ignore her,” the duke said. “If you don’t, you will make me think you’re a fool. The crimson domino looks well on you, quite wicked, just as you wished. I would like to see you in Lady Sanderson’s Roman gown. It would doubtless drape magnificently over your breasts.” There, he thought, that should get her mind off what Lady Sanderson had said. “Waltz with me, Evangeline.”

  “Oh, yes,” she said and raised her arms. Marianne Clothilde was looking at her son and the cousin. She said thoughtfully, “They waltz well together. In fact, they look quite perfect.” “She is very tall.”

  “The duke is also very tall. He detests getting cricks in his neck. Now, Lucille, do you think you could conjure up a suitable partner for me?”

  The duke’s hand tightened about Evangeline’s waist as he guided her expertly through a crowded knot of dancers.

  “To be fair,” Evangeline said, panting slightly from being whirled about at least a dozen times, “you do dance well.”

  “Dancing well, like good manners, was bred deep into my bones.” “You won’t let me forget that, will you?” “Probably, if you distract me.” He smiled down at her and saw that her eyes were glowing behind her mask. He saw a portion of the dance floor that was relatively free and whirled her around in wide circles. She laughed aloud, nearly humming in her pleasure.

  When he was forced to rein in his steps, she said, “Is there anything that you don’t do well?” “Do I sniff a compliment? Surely not.” “Forgive me. I believe it was a compliment. Do you want me to take it back?”

  He lowered his head and touched his chin for an instant against her hair. Her hair smelled faintly of roses. “There are a goodly number of things I’d like to do better.” “For instance?”

  “Ah, an example? Very well. When you enrage me, I would like to be able to hold to my anger just a bit longer. But the fact is, if you come close enough, then I grab you and I forget I want to strangle you. I want to strip off your clothes and pull you beneath me and kiss you until you’re quite red in the face and then—” “That example was too detailed. It isn’t designed to maintain any sort of equilibrium.”

  “Well, yes. It did something to you. You’ve stepped on my foot at least three times now since I started with the details. Do you know that I’d even like to just lie beside you and look at you for a very long time, not even kiss you or examine every last inch of you, no, just look at you because you please me. Oh, yes, you’re an excellent dancer. Not quite at my level, but with practice you will match me perfectly.”

  All she had in her mind was a very clear picture of herself, lying quite naked, with him over her, looking at her, but interspersed with those looks were kisses. She gulped, then smiled. “You know, your grace, after you’ve looked your fill at me, I should like to look at you, at great length, indeed, until I am perhaps on the old and withered side.”

  It was like a fist to the belly. He could only stare at her, this woman who’d just knocked him down and made him so hard he thought he’d spill his seed in the very next instant. The orchestra ended the waltz; because they were both breathing hard, they stood there, staring at each other, until the duke became aware of laughter, aimed at them. Good God, he’d lost himself co
mpletely. As for Evangeline, she was breathing as hard as he was. It pleased him so much he still thought he’d lose his seed. He didn’t move from her side, nor did he say anything.

  “There’s Lady Jane Bellerman,” Evangeline said, “and she’s coming this way. I knew it was too good to last. She’s even taken off her mask.”

  The duke eyed the young lady, who was bearing down on him with alarming purpose, and said, “A shepherdess’s costume. Thank God she isn’t carrying a staff. She’d probably hit you with it.”

  “I think she looks lovely, more’s the pity,” Evangeline said, wishing the lady to Hades. “I suppose you’re going to dance with her?” “Would you tear out her hair if I did?” “Your conceit is showing again, your grace. I can see that there are a long line of ladies already forming a queue to grab you. Yes, I would say by the look on Lady Jane’s face that she should like to throw me off the balcony.”

  “Quite possibly, but you may trust me to protect you. Now, where is this line of ladies? No, don’t hit me. It isn’t done in the middle of a ballroom with more people watching our every action than you can imagine. Yes, I’ll do my duty by Lady Jane. As for you, don’t dance with any gentleman more than once.”

  “Why ever not? I was going to dance with you again.”

  “You’re being a blockhead again, Evangeline. It would provide unnecessary gossip, that’s why.” “You mean you won’t dance with me again?” “That’s quite different. You’re my cousin. I must see to you, it’s my duty. Ah, Lady Jane, that lovely virgin shepherdess, is very nearly upon us.” “I didn’t know that all shepherdesses were virgins.” “Only the most valuable ones. Now I must be off, Evangeline. Stay close. Ah, dare I believe that for just this once I’ve had the last word?”

  She said in a very sweet voice, “Since you’re my employer, since you pay me so very well for my services, why then, I should fear losing my recompense.” “Perhaps,” he said finally, stroking his chin with his long fingers, fingers that itched to stroke her, any part of her, “I will rectify your father’s failings. He never thrashed you, did he? I didn’t think so. Perhaps soon you’ll be over my knee, that quite nice bottom of yours all white and soft beneath my hand. Now, I must see to Lady Jane.” He strode off, not looking back, damn him.

  At least he drew the young lady’s fire by catching her a good six feet from Evangeline. She was grateful for that. And yet again, she pictured everything he’d said clearly in her mind.

  The orchestra struck up another waltz, and she was at once pulled into the knot of dancers by an Arthurian knight who was a good four inches shorter than she was. She saw the dowager duchess waltzing with an aging Greek philosopher, Lord Harvey, her Arthurian knight told her, between hiccups, for which he apologized continuously. She saw the duke dancing with Lady Jane. He was laughing down at her, at something she said. She didn’t remember a single clever thing out of Lady Jane’s mouth at the duchess’s dinner party.

  A Puritan partnered her next, only this one wasn’t at all ready to deny the flesh. She had to give him a little kick in the shin. Next there was a knight with armor that looked very heavy and uncomfortable. He was amusing, she’d give him that.

  Between dances she had only enough time to catch her breath and an occasional glimpse of a nodding smile of approval from the duchess. And she watched the duke. He never approached her again. He danced each dance with a different young lady, and he danced every dance.

  Hadn’t he spoken about his duty to her? Why didn’t he come to her? But no, the righteous clod was much too occupied with English shepherdesses, giddy nymphs, even a goddess with stout gold ribbons crossing and separating the soft white material covering her breasts.

  When a French chevalier of the last century said it was near midnight, she was frankly surprised. When he wanted to remove her mask for her, she said quickly, “Oh, no. I see the duchess waving to me. Good-bye, sir,” and made her escape. She slipped out of one of the long French doors that gave onto the balcony. The night was cold, the moon bright overhead, splashing light onto the beautiful gardens beneath her. She walked to the iron railing, still feeling warm from all her dancing.

  “Hello, Madame de la Valette. Fancy that finally you’re free of all the gentlemen and out here all alone.”

  She whirled about at the softly spoken words to face a tall, slender man costumed in a gray domino and mask. There was something familiar about his voice, but she couldn’t grasp it.

  She remembered the duke’s warning and took a final step back, her side against the iron railing. “You know my name,” she said, eyeing him closely. He didn’t appear at all drunk. Perhaps he’d just wanted a moment of cool air and quiet. No, she didn’t believe that for an instant.

  “It’s midnight,” he said, raised his gloved fingers to his mask, and pulled loose the ribbons.

  Evangeline stared at him, at the mole on his cheek, at his eyes. It was Conan DeWitt, the man she had met at the old Norman church in Chitterly.

  Chapter 31

  He was wearing a gray domino, the gray mask held in his long, gloved fingers. “Don’t look so shocked, Madame Eagle. I’m quite accepted in society. Naturally, since you’re connected to the duke, you are as well. I nearly gave up speaking to you. You’ve been quite popular.” “What do you want, DeWitt?” “You remember my name, do you?” “I remember the name of every traitor I’ve seen. What do you want?”

  He took a step toward her. “Don’t anger me, Madame. I believe you dangerous to us, no matter what Edgerton says. He’s told me he’s got a hold over you that will never be broken, no matter your pathetic attempts to escape us, no matter your tender virtue. Now, let’s get this over with. The Lynx asked me to come here. He was unable to come, though I know he wanted to see you very much. This is his message to you.” He handed an envelope to her. Evangeline quickly stuffed it in her reticule. “My letter from my father?” “It’s in the envelope.”

  He looked at her more closely. “I still doubt you no matter what Edgerton has over you. He killed that foolish old woman whom nobody cared about, and yet you allowed your delicate woman’s conscience to collapse.”

  “I cared about her, Mr. DeWitt. Tell Edgerton to release me from this.”

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? No, you won’t be released from anything as yet. Our emperor is in Paris. Soon, Madame, he will destroy the allied armies and will rule once again. This time his name and dynasty will stretch far into the future. When that happens, then you will be free, but not before.”

  “Napoleon will never hold power again as he did before. All he has is one country filled with madmen, and if it comes to another battle, he will lose.”

  She saw that his hand was trembling when he withdrew an enamel snuffbox from his waistcoat pocket and flicked it open. As he inhaled a pinch of snuff, he said, his voice low and controlled, “I don’t like you, Eagle. I do consider woman occasionally useful, but my uses for them are somewhat different than Houchard’s. I believe that Edgerton has allowed his lust for you to blind him. You’re dangerous. Edgerton told me that if you balked at all, I was to remind you of two deaths, not just one. I see from your face that the warning makes sense.”

  Without warning he grabbed her arms and jerked her to him. She felt the fury in him, and was so afraid she nearly bit her tongue. “Let me go.”

  “Oh, no, not just yet. I’d like to fling you up against the railing and take you right here. I’d like to find out what keeps Edgerton enthralled with you, for you’ve surely let him bed you, haven’t you? What do you say? The duke’s probably had you as well, why not I?”

  “You fool. It’s very cold out here.” And then she spat in his face.

  He held her left wrist and released her right. He pulled a handkerchief from his waistcoat pocket and wiped his face. He said very softly, “You’ll pay for that. I’m accounted a handsome man, a good lover. Is it that damned duke? Yes, it is, isn’t it? He’s rich and titled, and that’s what little whores like you want. That would make me mo
re acceptable, wouldn’t it? No, don’t try to kick me or I’ll throw you over this railing. I care not that you won’t see to your next mission. They’ll find that letter in your reticule, and all will know you’re a traitor.”

  “The only thing that would make you acceptable to me is if you were flailing at the end of a hangman’s noose.” “You little bitch, I’ll—” “Evangeline.”

  Conan DeWitt dropped his hands and took a lazy step back. Evangeline looked up to see the duke stepping onto the balcony. She clasped her reticule tightly against her and quickly stepped around DeWitt. “Your grace,” she said.

  The duke looked at Conan DeWitt, at Evangeline, whose face was pale as the white moon shining overhead, and wanted to commit murder. He said, his voice calm and dry, “DeWitt, may I ask what you’re doing here with my cousin? It’s very cold.”

  He knew DeWitt, she thought, and took another step toward the duke.

  “Yes, we were just discussing how very changeable the weather is in England. I was just telling Madame that she would catch a chill if she remained out here. I saw her coming out and wanted to meet her. She’s kindly been giving me her opinions of England and Englishmen. But now even I feel the cold to my bones. Your grace. Madame.” He nodded to both of them and walked away. The duke wanted to grab him, but he held himself back. Evangeline looked ready to collapse, she was so pale.

  The duke had seen her leave the dance floor and go onto the balcony. He’d seen a man in a gray domino and mask follow her. He’d been on her heels as soon as he’d been able to get away from Lady Winthrop, who had wanted him in her bed since her best friend had wagered that she wouldn’t win him.

  That damned pallor of hers. She looked as if she’d just been destroyed, flattened. He pulled her against him, just as Conan DeWitt had done. He said, his voice warm against her forehead, “Did he insult you? What did he say to you?”