Justin pulled the cover away from her face and laid a hand on her brow. She seemed quite cool. "Do you have the headache again?" he asked gently.

"No."

"Well, if you will not tell me what is the matter, I must send for the doctor."

"I don't need the doctor." Danielle thumped onto her side facing away from him. "I just have the bellyache. It's quite normal and will go away if you'll leave me in peace." She twitched the covers overhead again.

"Oh, I see." Justin frowned. It had been nearly four weeks then since he had last shared her bed. He was usually so attuned to her body that her monthly cycles were as well known to him as they were to Danielle. His lack of awareness on this occasion served only to emphasize the lonely estrangement of their lives. Well, he was not going to accept his dismissal this time. "Come," he said briskly. "You may have the bellyache but that is no reason to suffer in misery. Why do you have no fire and no light? It is a wretched day and this room is as cold and dark as a tomb."

"I like it like that," Danny said petulantly. "I feel miserable and it suits my mood."

Justin smiled slightly. This Danny he could deal with. "Well, it does not suit mine, child." He tugged on the bellpull and when Molly appeared a minute or two later she saw His Lords.h.i.+p kneeling by the grate, setting a taper to the kindling.

"My lord, please," she gasped in horror. "I will do it."

"It's done," he said tranquilly, rising to his feet. "I suggest you light the candles and draw the curtains."

"I... I am sorry, my lord," Molly stammered, twisting her hands. "I would have done so before but my lady said . . ."

"I understand completely, Molly," Justin rea.s.sured. "I know exactly how stubborn Her Ladys.h.i.+p can be."

A muttered expletive came from the bed where Danny now lay on her back, the covers pulled down to her nose as she regarded them balefully.

"You will feel a great deal better, my love, when you have washed your face and brushed your hair," Justin told her, pulling the heavy gold drapes across the long window, shutting out the dark, rain-sodden afternoon. The room had undergone a complete transformation; the fire blazed cheerfully and the soft candlelight illuminated the gold, cream, and white of the furnis.h.i.+ngs. Only Danielle remained untransformed.

"Now, Molly, you will be pleased to fetch your mistress some broth."

"I do not wish for any broth," Danny wailed.

"Would you prefer gruel, then?" her husband asked cheerfully.

"I loathe gruel!"

"Then it had best be broth. See to it, Molly."

"Yes, my lord." Molly bobbed a curtsy and made haste from the room.

The water in the ewer was cold, but Justin decided that the chill might have a salutory effect and wrung out a washcloth.

"What are you doing with that?" Danielle demanded warily.

"I intend to wash your face, brat. You are looking rather grubby and disheveled. I am persuaded you will feel more the thing when you are tidy."

Danny's arms flailed in protest, but her husband just laughed and caught both her wrists in one large hand. "You will not succeed in preventing me, Danny, so I suggest you submit with a good grace."

Danielle snuffled and snorted under the vigorous application of the washcloth, but with her eyes unglued and her cheeks tingling, she did feel a little less cross.

Justin brushed her hair until the bright curls shone again, but his movements were tender and caressing and Danny found herself leaning back against his shoulder automatically, with all the old trust and comfort. Justin felt it, too, and his heart leaped. He toyed with the idea of taking advantage of the moment and attempting again to discover what had been troubling her in recent weeks, and then he dismissed the idea. If she withdrew from him, he would lose this moment and it was too precious. There would be other opportunities and all the more so if he played a casual game, rebuilding their love brick by brick, un.o.btrusively.

"There, that is a great improvement," he announced, f plumping up the pillows and settling her against them. "Now, you shall take a gla.s.s of port for your ache and eat some broth and I shall tell you a very funny story that will quite chase away the megrims."

Danielle chuckled. "You are skilled at nursing, milord. Even more so than my old nurse. She used to weep when I was ill, you see, and that did not help matters at all."

Justin touched the tip of her nose with a light forefinger and went to his own parlor for the port. If only he could have her defenseless and in need of comfort for more than the hour or so afforded by this monthly inconvenience, he could get to the bottom of whatever it was.

Danielle required little encouragement to eat the steaming bowl of broth, rich from the ever bubbling stockpot belowstairs. She found Justin's story hilarious and choked violently on a toast crumb which led the earl to observe, as he patted her back and mopped up the slurped soup, that she was still as much of an urchin as ever. The remark was intended in jest, but it brought so many painful memories of those early good times when he'd cared for her, scolded her, and loved her and she had accepted it all in youthful trust and naivete, that Danielle stiffened in sadness and the impudent retort that rose so naturally to her lips was swallowed.

"What is it, Danny?" Linton asked involuntarily.

"Why nothing at all, Justin." She laughed, that brittle laugh that he had come to dread. "I think I will sleep for a little while and then I shall be quite restored."

"I will leave you then." He rose from the bed and took the tray, placing it on the dresser. "Do you care to stay home tonight, my love? We haven't played chess together this age."

How easy it would be to say yes, to eat dinner together in his parlor as they had used to do, play chess and talk companionably and then to bed, to sleep in the circle of his arm. But the image of her mother and then of Margaret Mainwairing, eagerly awaiting Linton's footfall, was engraved on the retina of her mind's eye. "Have you forgotten, my lord, that we are promised to the Wesleys' this evening? There is to be a recital-a harpist as I recall."

"I had forgotten, I must confess. You could, perhaps, plead your sickbed as excuse." It was a last, desperate attempt, but he saw in her eyes, now strangely blank, that it would not do.

"There is nothing the matter with me that an hour's rest and a bath will not cure, Linton," she said briskly. "And it will be a most interesting soiree, I dare swear."

"Indeed, my love," he concurred dryly. "If my absence will not disturb you, I should prefer to spend the evening at Watier's."

"But of course, my lord. We do not need to live in each other's pockets, after all."

Linton bowed his acquiescence and left her chamber, desolation twisting like serpents in his belly. He had married a loving child-a child grateful to him for his help, a child who, from the depths of her inexperience, had perhaps mistaken grat.i.tude for love. For a few months they had lived an idyll until Danielle had lost her naivete as she took her place in the world of sham and pleasure. If she no longer loved him, then they faced a bleak future. He could have married any number of eager eligible young damsels who would have born his children, acted as his hostess, run his households competently if not with Danielle's devastating efficiency, but Justin in his foolishness had waited for something else, and he had found it in the mercurial Danielle. He could not now imagine his life without her, but he was beginning to imagine his life without her love. While she did not say the words he dreaded, he could still hope, still plan a campaign whereby he would woo the woman as he had never needed to woo the child.

The following morning he appeared in her bedchamber, resplendent in a frogged silk dressing gown, his hair in a neat queue at the nape of his neck. "You are feeling more the thing, I trust, love?" He bent to kiss her-a simple morning salute.

"Indeed yes, I thank you, sir," she responded politely. "Did you pa.s.s an enjoyable evening?" She was looking quite entrancing with her curls tumbled about her shoulders, her skin fresh from sleep, and a profusion of lace and ruffles adorning her negligee.

"I have urgent business at Danesbury." Justin smiled and rifled carelessly through the scattered notes on her coverlet. "Your admirers are always faithful, my dear." But Danielle merely shrugged lightly. "Will you accompany me?" He returned to the original subject with apparent ease. "Apart from the pleasure I shall take in your company, there are matters of the estate that you might wish to concern yourself with."

"If you require my presence, sir, then of course I shall be pleased to accompany you."

It was said in the way she had given him her body until he had found himself unable to take in that way-a dull "as you command, my lord."

"I do not require your presence, Danielle. I merely wished for your company. However, since I am sure you have more exciting things to do in town, I shall see you on my return." He refrained, with the greatest difficulty, from slamming the connecting door. Had he looked back to see the stricken expression on his wife's face, subsequent events might have taken a different turn.

During her husband's absence, Danielle threw caution to the winds and intensified her activities with D'Evron. No longer concerned that Justin might remark on her erratic comings and goings in riding dress when she had taken no horse from the stables, or that he might look askance at the frequent visits from the chevalier, she was out at all hours, frequently returning late at night, heedless of the concern this was causing Bedford who controlled the backstairs whispers with Molly's more than ample support, but awaited the return of His Lords.h.i.+p with more than usual eagerness.

On one particularly tricky expedition, just a few days after Linton's departure, Danielle called upon Julian's help.

"I must go at.night, Jules, and the chevalier is unable to aceompany me," she explained calmly. "You need not involve yourself, but you will drive me and wait outside, then all will be comme ilfaut."

"What the deuce do you mean, comme ilfaut?" His Lords.h.i.+p exclaimed. "You cannot go to Billingsgate at any time, and certainly not in the middle of the night."

"Not alone, no," she agreed. "But with you, I will have no fear. It is the only time I can speak with Monsieur Farme and he is not being at all kind to his wife, you understand. He works at the fishmarket from dawn till dusk and then drinks his earnings. C'est abominable! Madame does not even understand how to do the marketing in this country and he will not help her in the slightest. The baby has the croup and monsieur complains constantly about the crying at night but he will not give money for medicine. It is necessary to persuade him to see reason."

"Danny, you cannot mean to interfere in the private affairs of man and wife?" Julian looked at her in horror. "It is no business of yours."

"It most certainly is," Danielle declared. "Am I to stand by and watch this happen? Do not be absurd, Jules. If you do not choose to accompany me, then I will go alone."

Thus it was that the young Lord Julian found himself in a bare, grimy apartment smelling strongly of fish, surrounded by wailing tots and coughing babies, watching his cousin's wife confront a mountainous man much the worse for liquor. Julian could not follow the exchange. It bore no relation to the upper cla.s.s French he had learned, but the effect of a diminutive aristocrat speaking the language of the gutter was quite apparent on Monsieur Farme's face.

Madame was an emaciated figure in a ragged gown, her eyes, red with weeping, sunken into the pale face. Her hands fluttered and twisted as Danielle's angry words flew through the room and Julian found himself obliged to calm and soothe the woman while his cousin-in-law fought the man. It was a most disconcerting role reversal, but seemed only appropriate since Danielle was clearly more capable than he of dealing with Monsieur Farme.

"Eh bien, monsieur, nous sommes en accord, n'est-ce pas?" Danielle, in the twinkling of an eye, was the Countess of Linton speaking the language of a de St. Varennes. "You will provide your wife with monies on which she may conduct your household and I will find someone who will a.s.sist her in making her way about the market. I will also send un medecin to look to the babe. His bill will be small, and you will pay it without delay, I think." She gave him her shark's smile. It was one Julian had never seen before and would rather not see again, he decided. Danielle had issued no threats, no bl.u.s.tering accusations, but it would take a stronger man than Monsieur Farme to resist the implied consequences of continuing along his present course.

Danielle took Madame Farme to one side and spoke a few words. As she took her hand in a gesture of farewell, madame felt the crispness of a roll of bank notes slipped into her palm that instantly clenched into a fist. "I will visit you again, madame, in a day or so, just to see-how you are going on." Danielle turned all smiles to the recalcitrant husband. "Monsieur Farme, I look forward to meeting you again."

Farme didn't appear as if he reciprocated the courtesy and Julian felt an absurd urge to laugh at the man's discomfiture. He restrained himself, however, and encouraged Danielle back to the waiting curricle that was guarded by his own tiger who, after a few bewildered moments, had reverted to his origins and was exchanging slang with an interested group of spectators.

Julian handed her into the curricle, took the reins, and instructed the tiger to stand away from their heads. The boy did so, springing up behind with an agile twist of a wiry body.

"It is the outside of enough, Danny," Julian said eventually, once he had negotiated the narrow streets. "You cannot continue in this way. I am convinced the place was flea-ridden-I begin to itch already."

"Nonsense." Danny waved her hand in careless dismissal. "If there are fleas you can see them. There were none there. Bedbugs, mayhap, but since you are not obliged to sleep in the beds, you need have no fear."

"Have you no sense of propriety?" Julian demanded, knowing the answer full well.

"None whatsoever, Jules," she said cheerfully. "But I am truly grateful for your a.s.sistance. I hope it will not be necessary to ask for it again."

"You d.a.m.n well will ask for it," Julian stated fiercely. "I begin to think I must lay the whole before Linton. I had no idea of the conditions in which you were acting."

"Jules, you cannot!" Danny exclaimed. "You promised."

"More fool I," he said glumly. "But I do not know what's to be done."

"Mon ami, you must cease worrying. It is not necessary, I a.s.sure you."

Lord Julian remained unconvinced by this a.s.surance and more than ever certain that in all honor he could no longer be Danielle's accomplice in deceiving her husband. But in all honor how could he do otherwise?

As it happened, Julian need not have concerned himself. The balloon was to go up very shortly and not at his instigation.

Chapter 13.

Linton returned from Danesbury after a two-week absence that he had deliberately prolonged in the vague hope that Danielle would miss him and be in a more receptive mood on his return. He was also resolved that they would not follow the crowd to Bath for the summer season. He would take Danielle back to Mervanwey and in the quiet haven where they had pa.s.sed such an idyllic summer last year, he would attempt to recapture his loving bride. It was quite possible, of course, that Danielle would object to the plan but, for once, Linton was prepared to exercise the husband's right of command and brook no argument. If he was again reduced to dragging her through the countryside on the end of a leading rein, then so be it.

He found Danielle in the bookroom, dealing with correspondence. Her eyes lit up as she saw him and for a second he hoped, but then the warmth was extinguished almost as if it had never been. "Why, Linton," she said, offering her cheek for his salute. "I did not expect you so soon."

"I had hoped you might have missed me," he replied with a smile as dry as fallen leaves. "But I am sure you have been well amused."

"Tolerably so." She shrugged her slim shoulders. "I have been looking at the leases of two houses in Bath. It is almost the end of the Season and we must make a decision before they are all taken. You must tell me which one you prefer and I will instruct Peter to deal with the arrangements."

"We do not go to Bath," he said, deciding that confrontation at this point could hardly worsen matters.

"And why not, pray?" Her eyes snapped and her mouth took on that mutinous pout that always spelled trouble.

"Because I do not wish it," Justin told her flatly. "We will go, instead, to Mervanwey."

"And if I do not choose to do so?"

"I regret to inform you, Madam Wife, that this is not a matter in which you have any choice." Her jaw dropped and she stared at him, speechless with indignation, her body stiff with rebellion. "You are looking sadly pulled, my dear," Justin went on. "A few months of sea air will restore you, I am convinced."

"Well, I will not go," she declared.

Justin raised his gla.s.s and subjected her to that unnerving scrutiny. "No?" he inquired gently. "I beg leave to inform you that you are mistaken."

Danielle proceeded to inform him in a very few well-chosen epithets exactly what she thought of this autocratic statement.

Her husband remained unmoved throughout the tirade, looked merely bored, in fact. When she fell into a frustrated silence, he pinched her cheek carelessly and said he hoped she had sufficiently relieved her feelings.

Danielle made a sound like an infuriated kitten and flounced out of the room. It had been months since Justin had treated her like that and Danielle knew full well that if he had made up his mind on the matter, to Mervanwey they would go. She toyed momentarily with the idea of settling on one of the Bath houses herself and presenting him with a fait accompli, but in her heart of hearts knew that such childish defiance would not work. It was interesting, though, that he was prepared to spend the summer away from the charms of Margaret Mainwairing, or perhaps he intended to leave his wife safely out of the way in Cornwall while he took his own pleasure elsewhere. Well, if that was his plan he would find himself obliged to revise it.

Justin took himself to White's, deciding that fighting with his wife was infinitely more satisfying than the cool polite distance of recent weeks. At least she was forced to respond to him in a familiar way he could handle.

The Earl of March had been waiting for three days for his grandson-in-law to return to town. No one seemed to know when to expect him, not even Danielle, and Charles had stationed himself at White's where he knew Linton would come within hours of his arrival in Grosvenor Square. Accordingly, he was much relieved when his patience was rewarded by the sight of the powerful figure in dove gray britches and a superbly cut coat of blue cloth with silver b.u.t.tons. A diamond pin nestled in the immaculate folds of his cravat and his hair was but lightly powdered.

Linton greeted friends and acquaintances with casual ease but a slight frown showed in the blue black eyes as he recognized the unmistakable signs of constraint in the returned courtesies. He could almost feel the speculative eyes on his back as he made his way to the Earl of March, who had been betrayed into an urgent gesticulation when he had caught his eye.

"What's to do, March?" he asked bluntly. "I have the distinct impression that my appearance has caused a degree of embarra.s.sment."

"No doubt." March sighed heavily. "You had best talk to Lavinia without delay, Justin. She has been in such a taking, I have been at my wits end to know what to do for the best."

"So Danielle has set the town by the ears in my absence," Justin observed, his lips tightening.

"You must talk to Lavinia, dear boy. She is better able than I to explain."

"Then I will do so at once. I'm obliged to you, March." Justin bowed and turned'on his heel. Whatever the little wretch had done this time, it was clearly more serious than one of her usual pranks.

Lady Lavinia was not the calm matron Justin was accustomed to. She greeted him with a mixture of reproach and relief that he wisely allowed to run its course before saying, "You had best tell me the whole, ma'am."

"It is such a scandal, Justin." Lavinia paced the drawing room. "I cannot think what you were about to leave her alone for such a time. And your mother has been here every day, insisting I do something because Danielle will not mind her. But what can I do? The child will not mind me either."

"Ma'am, I am quite in the dark as yet,1' Justin prompted, beginning to despair of ever hearing this horrifying story.

"Justin, she has been seen entering and leaving D'Evron's lodgings any number of times in these last two weeks, at all hours of the day and night, and quite unaccompanied," Lady Lavinia moaned tragically. "Not that it would be much better if she had been. She is also always to be seen driving in his company, but they do not drive in the park or anywhere respectable, they are always heading out of town." Lady Lavinia's geographical knowledge of London was confined exclusively to the few square miles inhabited by the ton, any area outside that was a foreign land.

"Am I to understand, Lavinia, that Danielle is considered to be D'Evron's mistress?" Justin took snuff with an insouciance that amazed the countess.

"That is what is said," she replied with a defeated sigh. "I have no idea whether or not it is true, but she is so indiscreet and . . ." She hesitated before continuing bravely. "You will forgive me for saying this, Justin, I cannot but have helped noticing that there has been some estrangement between you recently. If you have angered her in some way . . . she is so impulsive." Her voice faded.

"So, you are suggesting that she has taken a lover in revenge? I think not, ma'am. My wife, as you so rightly say, is both indiscreet and impulsive, but she is not vindictive. She has business with D'Evron concerning her compatriots who find themselves in difficult circ.u.mstances. This business has my approval and it would be wise to let that be known widely and without delay. However, I do not approve of her manner of conducting that business in my absence, but you may safely leave that matter in my hands. The scandal can be easily scotched if D'Evron is seen also in my company and their work together with the emigres is made open knowledge."