Jo Beverley - [Rogue ] (36 page)

"I'm not sure. Eleanor, are you all right?"

"Yes," she answered impatiently. "Where is Nicholas?"

"At Madame Bellaire's still. He could only get a brief word to me. Said to come here and give you his apologies. He didn't say what for."

"That's not important. Why is he still there?"

"I can't say. We were all settled in for another jolly evening, pretending to enjoy ourselves. I'll be honest with you," he admitted with a grin, "it's not hard, except... Well, Nicholas comes down and gives me an envelope and says we're all to go. He told me to come here to you and the others to take the package to Melcham. He got the lists after all," he said jubilantly, "and I thought that goose was cooked. Did you escape?"

"No," said Eleanor, thinking over this news. "They released us. Madame Bellaire appears to have abducted me because she didn't trust Nicholas. I suppose he is now getting her out of the country as planned. When can I expect him home?"

"Tomorrow, if everything goes as planned," said Lucien. "But if I were him I wouldn't stay in that woman's company a moment longer than I had to."

"I suppose it is a matter of honor," said Eleanor.

"Some situations..." he said, but then abandoned that argument. "What I don't understand, though—"

"Francis will tell you," said Eleanor, feeling as if a weight had fallen from her shoulders. It was all going to work out after all. "Now I am tired. As everything seems to be in order, I think I will seek my bed. Good night, gentlemen, and thank you."

Tomorrow Nicholas would be home, free of entanglements. They could go to Somerset. She would grow huge with child as he regained his gilded beauty. They would be happy at last. As soon as she laid her head upon her pillow, she fell into an exhausted but contented sleep.

* * *

Nicholas was sitting in an elegant chair in Therese's boudoir sipping an excellent port. The Frenchwoman sat a small distance away, a picture of seductive beauty. Three men watched him, pistols aimed steadily at his head.

Nicholas spoke, with difficulty, in a tone of light amusement. He was not feeling amused, even though he had seen Amy and Eleanor leave and was reasonably sure of their safety. "Therese, do you seriously expect me to believe this is all an elaborate plot to get even with me? 'Hell hath no fury,' but this is ridiculous."

Therese's lips curved in a sensual smile. "Just one of the
aims, mon ami
."

"Doing it too brown," he said calmly. "I know the plot is real. It has at least four governments in a stew."

"Of course it is real," she purred. "Like all men, you underestimate a woman. I really did expect better of you. I am capable of driving more than one horse. But yet," she mused mischievously, "it is not quite accurate to say the plot is real. It exists, yes, but it is a... how you say?... a fraud."

He showed no reaction as he sipped at the wine again. "Are you going to explain that statement?"

"But of course! I am vain enough to hope that you, at least, will appreciate my genius. The fall of our friend Napoleon Bonaparte inconvenienced me. I had a select clientele of his closest officers and advisers and a lucrative trade in... let us call it 'influencing' them. I expected him to accept the agreement at Chatillon. Who did not? The power of France would have been reduced, but"—she shrugged—"instead he pursued war to destruction." A click of her tongue dismissed the
ci-devant
emperor. "I saw there would be problems in establishing my power again under the Bourbons and looked to the New World for scope for my talents. But I required funding."

She played the good hostess and refilled his glass from the decanter, eyes holding his. He nodded a brief acknowledgement. The damnable thing was he still wasn't sure how she felt about him. There was no longer any need to play the devoted lover, but some acting might be necessary to preserve his life. And life, with the thought of Eleanor waiting, was very sweet.

"Now," she continued, "one of the gentlemen I knew so well in Paris was working for the emperor's restoration even before the ink was dry on Napoleon's abdication. He believed, my poor Gaston, that the people would soon tire of the feeble Bourbons and demand the emperor back. It does not cost to encourage dreams, no matter how foolish. When I saw how many there were of this view, however—either patriots or those who feared to lose through the return of the monarchy—I saw my way."

She rose and walked the room, stirring gentle waves of sultry perfume from her gown. "Greed is a wonderful thing, Nicky! Men can be led through the nose by greed. In Italy, Germany, Spain, and even England there are men who fear to lose by the end of Napoleon, or by the end of war. Oh so cleverly, so secretly, I have formed them into a secret society." She looked back at him with a catlike smile. "Men love to be in a secret society, don't they, Nicky? Love to play at the spy."

Nicholas could feel that hit home. God, when he finally had leisure to think about the fool he'd been...

Therese laughed and stopped to touch his cheek in commiseration. He flinched away.

"Suffice to say," she murmured, "they have all paid into the fund, and in return they have received their money's worth of ciphers and secrets, passwords and symbols. I always give people their money's worth."

He was struggling to remain calm, but perhaps some flash of the anger in him escaped, for she moved away. "The contributions amount to some hundred thousand pounds at the moment, and it is time to make my exit. You see, Nicky, you are completely welcome to the names of all the leaders, just as your foolish brother-in-law is welcome to betray the plot for what he can get. The more trouble you cause them all, the less likely they are to look for me."

Nicholas maintained his cool facade, though he knew his eyes were telling another story. He was having trouble breathing smoothly. "And you had the satisfaction of watching me alienate my wife as well." He raised his glass. "My congratulations."

"Not just that, mon cher. I have enjoyed playing with you—as a cat plays with a mouse." She took a moment to enjoy that and then continued. "You may have denied me your true devotion, Nicholas Delaney, but you have denied me little else, have you? And now, in my
coup de grace
, I have destroyed your marriage." It was like watching layers peel away. She was no longer loving, no longer amused, no longer beautiful. "You left me once with a broken heart," she spat. "The only man who has ever done so. Now you too will long for love and be spurned. That is what I promised myself when you abandoned me!"

"Don't be melodramatic, Therese," he said dryly. "We had a mild affair—a young man and a whore. Did you expect me to marry you?"

She hit him full force. His head rocked back, but he caught her wrist before she could land the second blow. Immediately a pistol rested cold against his temple, but he did not release her.

"Once is enough for that insult, I think. So you really did care." He slowly opened his fingers so she could move her arm. "I'm sorry. I try not to hurt my lovers."

Her eyes flashed bitterly. "Why? Why are you the only one who is not at my feet? You, the only one I have ever loved!"

"I doubt that." He raised a finger and pushed the muzzle slightly away from his face. "I was the only one you didn't subjugate, and so you fancied yourself in love. If this is how you love, how do you hate?"

She had recovered her composure, though her eyes still burned. "Love, hate," she shrugged. "There is little difference, as you will find." She leaned close again, but not close enough for him to grab her. "Do you remember your wife saying she hated you? Remember it, Nicky. Remember it well. You will drink the bitter cup. My only regret is that I will be unable to see it for myself."

He raised an eyebrow. "Hence the preview. You are destined to be disappointed if you hope for reports of more such scenes. Eleanor does not have a quarrelsome nature."

The woman looked momentarily diverted. "She is cold? Poor Nicholas. And with your talents, too... But what can you expect? Raped by one brother, deserted by the other. Truly, as a woman, I regret that to make you suffer, she must suffer yet more."

Nicholas could not help but stiffen. "How did you know about that?" Then he answered himself, "Of course, Sir Lionel."

Therese had a smile of total satisfaction. "But no. I myself arranged the whole, my darling. Am I not clever?"

She pointed one long-nailed finger at him. "One of many arrows shot at random. One which found a mark. I was actually looking for a blackmail lever against you through your brother's unnatural tastes. After all, you had involved yourself in the matter of Richard Anstable, and I didn't know how long it would take for you to follow the path to me."

She refilled his empty glass. "Drink, Nicky. I doubt you will drink such quality again for quite some time."

That, thought Nicholas, sounded decidedly ominous.

"If your brother proved up to the task," Therese continued, "I intended her as a reward for my friend Deveril. He was a little put out by her escape. I, however, was enthralled when we discovered she was married to you. Enthralled and intrigued. Is she frigid after such an experience? Does she shrink from you in disgust? Perhaps you would have been punished enough, a man of your appetites and talents, without my further interference."

Nicholas took another measured sip from his glass. She snatched it from him. "What? Are we not to hear the secrets of your marriage bed? You have certainly not sought it much, as I know, and I am sure I have left even you little capacity when you have been home."

The guards smirked. She laughed and drained the glass in one swallow, then licked ruby wine from ruby lips.

Nicholas allowed a taunting smile to show. "Do you doubt that I could please any woman, any time?"

Her lips tightened, but after a moment she recovered.

"Ah, Nicky... Almost you tempt me to keep you for my amusement. But," she sighed, "to have to have armed guards around would be so tedious."

"Not for the guards," he remarked, causing a smothered guffaw. "Do we have to continue with this, Therese? What precisely do you plan to do with me?"

There was hatred in her eyes now, and he tensed himself for whatever was to come.

"You are altogether too, too confident. I know how very skillfully you can recover a woman's favor, no matter how badly you have treated her. Does everything in your life always fall out according to your wish, with a subtle smile here, a skillful touch there? How boring for you. We must change all that."

He recognized the approach of what she considered the
coup de grace
and only hoped she had misjudged.

"I think you will have to disappear," she said. "How long do you think it will take your wife to accept that she is a widow? How long before one of your friends consoles her? The so beautiful marquess of Arden, perhaps? Perhaps he will be able to wipe even your memory from her mind, and her body..."

Despite the futility of it, he fought as the guards skillfully overpowered, bound, and gagged him.

Chapter 13

Eleanor spent the next day waiting for Nicholas to return. Francis and Lucien came separately and together six times to enquire, although they knew she would send word immediately. After Lucien's third exit—because of a pressing engagement elsewhere—he sent round one of his father's magnificent liveried footmen to wait and bring the news to him immediately. The tall and handsome young man created quite a stir in the household.

Try as she might to remain calm, Eleanor grew frantic as the day passed. She couldn't eat, could hardly sit still. Her child was moving inside her now, and it too seemed to be affected, causing almost constant flutters and bumps. Each ring of the bell or footstep in the hall had her on her feet ready for news or the hoped-for appearance of Nicholas.

Close to dinner, Francis called again. At the sight of his questioning, fearful face she burst into tears in his arms.

"Surely he should be here by now, Francis. What if he's dead!"

He patted her back. "There, there. Come now, Eleanor. Nicholas leads a charmed life. He'll be fine."

"Luck can run out," she said, pulling away and wiping the tears away with her handkerchief.

"No reason for it," he said with forced cheerfulness. "He's just been delayed."