Intriguing Lady Read online

  “Ah, yes! Your papa. How is he? I trust he has weathered the journey well.”

  Roberta shivered involuntarily at his menacing tone. “Amazingly well,” she replied with as much indifference as she could muster. “Though he did work himself up into a rage when we were stopped by some soldiers.” She broke off and gave a shrill laugh. “But, how silly of me. You must have heard about that, and about my ailment, from the young man who questioned us. Do you happen to know if they found the person they were seeking?”

  The comte appeared to weigh the seeming innocence of her question. Then, evidently deciding that it was genuine, he laughed. “You are extremely quick-witted, mademoiselle,” he said admiringly. “I did, indeed, hear of your recent sojourn in Switzerland from the young man. But, to answer your question, no, the person we are looking for has not yet been apprehended.”

  “He must have committed a terrible crime, for the army to be involved in the search. In England, the army would only be called into service for such a search if the fugitive had committed a crime of high treason.”

  “Ah! I see your meaning. It is the same in France. The man we are looking for is a traitor. A spy!”

  “No!” Roberta exclaimed, and struggled to hide the amusement she felt at such an outrageous claim. “Really! How simply terrifying. I hope you catch up with him. I can’t bear to think that such men get away.”

  “He won’t,” the comte assured her. “Our net is widespread, and he won’t slip through it.”

  The confidence with which he spoke caused a feeling of apprehension to well up inside her. Suddenly she realized he had spoken the truth about his reasons for hunting Sir Nicholas. She inhaled deeply to steady her nerves and tried to grasp the import of what she had just learned. But her mind refused to function. She felt only an overwhelming desire to rid herself of the comte’s presence and to warn Sir Nicholas.

  “I hope my careless revelations have not alarmed you, Mademoiselle Rushforth,” the comte said in the face of her continuing silence. “I will personally insure that you are not harmed.”

  “You—you mean he is on this boat?” Roberta asked, acting the part of a frightened lady without difficulty. She was frightened, not for herself, but for Sir Nicholas.

  “So I have been informed. That is why I am confident we will succeed in capturing him. If it is true that he is here, he is trapped.” He laughed again, revealing several black teeth and finally relinquishing his grasp on her arm. “Allow me to escort you back to your cabin, Mademoiselle Rushforth. I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you.”

  “Thank you,” Roberta murmured faintly. “You’re very kind, but I don’t think it necessary. I don’t think Ashley would approve if she knew I had been talking to a stranger.”

  “Hardly a stranger,” he replied in a caressing voice. “After all, we have met before.”

  “But—but we were not introduced,” Roberta responded quickly. She could feel the small hairs at her nape rising as he stepped closer and placed his hands intimately on her shoulders.

  “Perhaps this will seal our meeting,” he whispered, and brought his mouth down to meet hers. She twisted her head sharply, but his lips, wet and pressing, touched her cheek.

  “Please, Monsieur le Comte,” she managed with more composure than she dreamed possible, “don’t be so silly. I’ll excuse your action this time, because of the moon’s fullness, but I hope, if we should ever meet again, you will act more like a gentleman.”

  She turned and fled, only stopping for breath when she had reached Sir Nicholas’s cabin. Giving no more than a perfunctory knock, she entered. Such was her state of agitation that she gave no thought to the impropriety of entering a gentleman’s room. He was seated at a small table bolted to the floor by the porthole, peering intently at some papers. He looked up at that moment and hurriedly pulled the papers together, failing to notice one sheet flutter to the floor. She watched it float slowly down and in that moment decided against repeating the comte’s allegations. She would consult with her uncle, Lord Bromley, first, for how could she be certain what Sir Nicholas was really up to? His behavior was odd, to say the least, and if the comte was to be believed, he was not a man to be trusted.

  “Good evening, Miss Rushforth,” Sir Nicholas said, smiling at her lazily. “Do you make a habit of entering a man’s room unchaperoned?”

  She waited for the pounding of her heart to subside before nodding. “It’s a habit I picked up from you, Papa,” she responded lightly. “I have come to inform you that the comte is on board. I have just left him on the top deck.”

  “Indeed,” was the noncommittal reply. “Does Mrs. Ashley know you went for a walk alone?”

  “I’m no longer a young girl who needs to ask permission to go for a walk,” she said with considerable irritation. “Had I known how you would react, I wouldn’t have bothered to come and warn you.”

  “As it happens, Miss Rushforth, I’m aware of his presence. I saw him come on board. He was the late arrival.” The maddeningly calm way in which he spoke caused Roberta to mutter angrily that he couldn’t possibly have recognized the comte under the heavy cloak he had worn.

  “Oh! But it was the cloak that I identified. The comte is the only person I know who would sport something so vulgar.”

  “Yet you don’t seem in the least bit agitated,” Roberta ventured, trying hard to match his casual attitude. “I would have thought that, knowing of his presence, you would have taken the precaution of locking your door.”

  “There, I grant you, I made a mistake. However, as no harm has come because of my thoughtlessness, there is little to worry about.” He stood up and clumsily collected the papers, which he then thrust inside his jacket. “I think I will retire now, Miss Rushforth, and try to get some sleep before we land.”

  “Of course, Sir Nicholas,” Roberta replied, eyeing the single sheet of paper still on the floor. It lay no more than a few feet from her. “Perhaps you should check your porthole first, though, and make certain it is secure.” He nodded his agreement, and as soon as he turned his back, she retrieved the paper and quickly hid it in the folds of her dress. “Good night,” she said, and before he had a chance to respond, she departed.

  Once in the privacy of her own cabin, she pulled the paper out and smoothed it with trembling fingers. She studied it carefully, but it made no sense to her. It appeared to be a list, written in fine copperplate, but the letters were a jumble and formed no recognizable words.

  “It must be in code,” she breathed, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Oh, Sir Nicholas, what a careless man you are!”

  She sat down at a table similar to the one in Sir Nicholas’s cabin and searched the drawer for writing implements. Dipping the pen into the ink, she slowly copied the letters onto a fresh sheet of paper, stopping frequently to check that she had made no mistake. When she finished and was satisfied that all was in order, she carefully folded her copy and tucked it into the top of her chemise, where it lay like a cold, sharp knife against her bosom. She returned the original to her dress pocket.

  “Now all I have to do is wait for a suitable opportunity to return it to you, Sir Nicholas,” she murmured, “and I hope one arises before you discover it is missing.”

  She lay on her bunk, fully dressed, and stared at the ceiling, far too excited to sleep. She had a lot to think about. She had to find a plausible reason to persuade Sir Nicholas to accompany them to London, for she now felt it imperative that she not lose sight of him until she had spoken to her uncle. Lord Bromley, in his capacity as Under Secretary, would know exactly how to handle such an unusual situation.

  She jerked up into a sitting position some five minutes later, a self-satisfied expression on her face. “The comte, of course! He would be most suspicious if he noticed that I had left my father at Dover,” she exclaimed triumphantly. “Sir Nicholas, you’ll just have to accept my offer to take you to London.”

  Chapter 6

  It was early afternoon before th
e boat finally reached Dover. The trip had been rough, and as far as Roberta could determine from the faces of the people who had gathered on deck, she was one of the few lucky ones who had not suffered seasickness. There was no sign of Mrs. Ashley or Sir Nicholas, and she assumed they were still in their cabins. As she stood, looking toward land, Williams came up behind her.

  “That was as rough a trip as I’ve ever ’ad,” he said. “I expect Mrs. Ashley is glad it’s over.”

  Roberta turned guiltily. She really hadn’t given a thought to Mrs. Ashley’s discomfort, for she had devoted all her energy to the problems Sir Nicholas presented. “I expect so, Williams,” she replied. “She never has liked sea voyages. I take it you didn’t suffer unduly?”

  “Nay, not me, Miss Roberta. Matter of fact, I rather enjoyed the battle we had with the elements. I looked in on…oh…your papa just a short while ago, and he’s all ready for the journey to London.”

  “You mean he wants to join us?” she exclaimed. “I—I thought he would have preferred to make his own arrangements, and travel alone.”

  Williams looked about cautiously before mumbling, “It was his suggestion, Miss Roberta. He thought it for the best on account of the comte being on board. It would look very strange if you were seen going off without your father,” he said.

  Roberta nodded in satisfaction, pleased that this hurdle had been jumped without trouble.

  “Sir Nicholas even asked if it would be possible to make Reigate by dusk,” Williams added, “for he knows of a very good inn there where we could spend the night.”

  “And can we?” she inquired, fingering the piece of paper in her pocket. She wondered if Sir Nicholas had noticed it was missing yet.

  “With the fresh team that should be awaiting us, I’m sure of it. I’ll just give them their heads.”

  “Good. Now, as for getting ashore, we will wait for you in Papa’s cabin, and when you have the carriage ready, you can fetch us. The captain won’t mind our lingering if you make it worth his while, will he?”

  “I’ve already taken care of that, Miss Roberta. Your father gave the necessary funds.” He tipped his tricorn and left Roberta in deep thought.

  “It would seem that Sir Nicholas and I think along the same lines,” she said. “Now I am forced to wonder why he wants to go to Reigate.”

  The answer to that was obvious when they arrived at the inn. The landlord, after Sir Nicholas had spoken quietly in his ear, greeted the party warmly.

  “An old and trustworthy friend,” Sir Nicholas said when Roberta asked what it was all about. “He’ll take very good care of us, and I can promise you an excellent meal. People come from miles around to enjoy the hospitality he offers.”

  “A safe haven, indeed,” Roberta remarked cryptically, and bustled off to her room, with Mrs. Ashley close behind.

  The food was every bit as good as Sir Nicholas had promised, and by the time the last covers had been removed and the sweet wine drunk, there was a general feeling of good humor between them. Even Mrs. Ashley had unbent and had shown a remarkable friendliness toward Sir Nicholas.

  If she only knew the truth of it, Roberta thought as they made their way from the private dining room to their respective bedrooms, she would be acting quite differently towards him. But it suited her plan for Mrs. Ashley to behave that way, for it would help lull Sir Nicholas into a false sense of security.

  There was a long public passageway to negotiate between the dining room and the stairs, and as Roberta had been the one to open the door, she was, in effect, leading the party to bed. She passed one room whose door was slightly ajar, and with casual curiosity peeped in. Several men were seated around a large oval table, and she could see someone’s hand dealing cards.

  “It would appear that it is not only the food that attracts people here,” she remarked as Sir Nicholas joined her. “Do they play for very high stakes?”

  “Sometimes,” he answered as he closed the door. “I have seen men lose large fortunes at that table.”

  Roberta shook her head in bafflement. “I have never understood what drives men to gamble all on the turn of a card.”

  “Women do as well,” Sir Nicholas returned with a grin, although with his falsely aged face it looked more like a grimace. “There was one in particular, I remember—don’t turn now,” he continued as he hunched his shoulders slightly; “the comte is coming up behind you—disgusting performance, Roberta,” he said, his voice rising angrily, “and one I wish you had witnessed. It would have taught you a lesson.”

  “Quite so, Papa,” she said blithely, taking a few steps toward Sir Nicholas’s right side. “Only, as I have never been tempted to gamble, I am at a loss to understand quite what lesson I would have learned by seeing this woman lose a fortune.”

  “That’s not the point, Roberta,” he grumbled as he leaned further over his cane. “You never know when temptation will come your way.”

  Mrs. Ashley looked curiously at the two of them and shrugged her shoulders. She had seen the stranger approaching and assumed they were enacting the scene for his benefit. Filled as she was with several glasses of wine, she decided to add further credence to their performance.

  “Come, come, Roberta,” she chided. “Leave your father in peace. You know you shouldn’t agitate him just before bedtime.” She brushed past them, tut-tutting, and continued past the comte, raising her eyebrows in seeming exasperation. “I never knew a more argumentative family,” she sighed mournfully, and mounted the stairs. She thought she had seen the man nod in sympathy, and as she let herself into her bedroom, she felt well pleased by her performance.

  “With your cheeseparing ways, Papa,” Roberta continued crossly, “even if temptation did cross my path, I wouldn’t have the means to be more than a bystander. Anyway, Ashley is quite right. You mustn’t work yourself up into such a state so late in the evening. I’ll see you to your door. Williams will be there to help you undress.” She turned and started in surprise as the comte stepped in front of her. “You!” she gasped. “Ahem! Good evening. I had not expected to see you again.”

  The comte smiled, but Roberta noticed that his eyes remained hard and cold. “Mademoiselle Rushforth,” he said as he took her hand and kissed it, “I hope you have forgiven me.”

  “Roberta!” Sir Nicholas snapped. “Who is this man? Why is he fondling you in such a fashion?”

  The comte seemed unmoved by Sir Nicholas’s questions, but Roberta, looking utterly adorable in her apparent confusion, quickly withdrew her hand. “It’s—it’s the gentleman I met on the boat,” she said, and then, grinning sheepishly at the comte, added, “Please excuse Papa. He’s an advocate of plain speaking, which sometimes can be quite embarrassing.”

  The comte bowed. “Then I will not add to your distress, mademoiselle. I bid you good night and hope that I will have the pleasure of meeting you again in London.” He retreated up the passageway and watched through narrowed eyes as Roberta and Sir Nicholas made their way up the stairs. When they were finally out of sight, he snapped his fingers and a liveried servant appeared. “Find out where this Mlle. Rushforth resides,” he commanded, and without a backward glance, pushed open the door to the gaming room and took his place at the table.

  “What has he done that forces him to ask for your forgiveness?” Sir Nicholas demanded abruptly when he deemed that they were safely out of the comte’s hearing.

  Roberta blushed and looked to the floor. “I…ah…that really is none of your business,” she answered, “but if it interests you, he tried to kiss me.”

  “Did he, by George!” Sir Nicholas exclaimed. “He must be very taken by you, Miss Rushforth, for I have never known him to indulge in such an unlikely flirtation before. Unless, of course, you encouraged him.”

  “Encouraged him!” Roberta sputtered, recalling how revolted she had felt by the comte’s wet kiss. “How dare you even insinuate such a thing!”

  Sir Nicholas laughed, but without mirth. “My apologies. I spoke without thinking
. However, I beg you, please heed my warnings. He is a dangerous man to cross.”

  “I thank you for reminding me of that fact,” she responded coldly. “And if anything untoward happens to me, I will not forget that you were the one responsible for my meeting him.” She lifted her head arrogantly and entered her room, slamming the door hard behind her. “How dare he be so patronizing!” she fumed. “And so free with his advice?” It was about time someone exposed him for what he was, and it would be her pleasure to do so.

  She undressed quickly and, tossing her clothes and her copy of the coded list haphazardly onto a chair, climbed wearily into bed. She thought sleep would elude her, but within seconds, her eyelids closed. As sleep overtook her, she remembered that she hadn’t returned the paper to Sir Nicholas.

  It was a dream, the recurring dream: she was being waltzed around the beeswaxed floor of Almack’s by Stephen. She was only vaguely aware of the envious glances leveled at them by those young ladies who were not permitted to stand up for such an intimate dance, for her entire being was thrilling to Stephen’s touch. They moved as one, swaying gracefully in perfect time to the music. Round and round they went, dipping, swirling, turning tirelessly.

  Even so, her heart was heavy. There would be no tomorrow for her. After tonight, when she had told him that she wouldn’t marry him, it would all be over, and she would never see him again.

  She studied his face with tear-clouded eyes, etching every line in her mind. His eyes were half closed, and he smiled down at her lazily. She felt his arms tighten about her, and in a moment of total abandonment, she pressed herself closer to him.

  “Happy, my darling girl?” he asked, his lips against her ear.

  “Yes, yes,” she cried incoherently. “I don’t want this dance to end, ever.”

  But it did end, and it was with great reluctance that they parted and went in search of some liquid refreshment.

  “Follow me,” Stephen whispered after he had procured two glasses of lemonade, and in a trancelike state she did. He led her to a sparsely furnished antechamber and closed the door quietly. He placed the glasses on a small table and strode over to her. They looked at each other wordlessly, and then he caught her in an embrace. He kissed her on both eyes, her nose, her throat, and finally allowed his mouth to touch hers. She clung to him, momentarily forgetting what she had resolved to do, and allowed his tongue to part her lips. A wonderfully warm sensation coursed through her body. It came to an abrupt end when a fit of coughing overtook her.