"You may cease your pretense, infant. I know full well that you are ravenous. Come to the table; we have little time to waste." He filled a gla.s.s with milk from a copper pitcher and handed it to her.

Danielle drank deeply and then caught Linton's pained frown. "Oh, do I have .. . ?"

"Yes, you do," he interrupted. She wiped the milky mustache from her lips with a checkered napkin and decided to take the bull by the horn.

"My lord, may I please ask a question?"

Linton propped his elbows on the table and rested his chin in a cupped palm as he looked at her quizzically. "Now, I wonder why you are asking my permission," he mused. "What possible difference would it make if I said no? Since that little word appears not to exist in your otherwise extensive vocabulary."

"Oh, pray do not be odious," she begged. "I may deserve it, but it is most unpleasant. Could you not instead just be furious as I thought you would be and then it would be all over?"

"Make no mistake, Danielle, I an furious," the earl said grimly, "and I expect to remain so indefinitely. If you do not care for the consequences of your actions, you should have thought a little more clearly before."

It was pointless, then. If he would not respond to her in any way except for this frigid near-indifference, she would have done better to have stayed at home. If he saw her only as a troublesome responsibility, then there was no hope for the partners.h.i.+p that would have made all right.

"I will not accompany you to Paris," she said, fighting back the tears.

"You most certainly will! You do not suppose that I would trust you out of my sight after this?"

"You need have no fear." Cold anger came to her aid. "I understand full well what you want of your marriage. I'll not interfere with your pleasures again, my lord."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Justin pushed back his chair, completely nonplussed by this attack that seemed to come from nowhere.

Danielle shrugged. There was nothing left to lose. "I had thought, since I do not appear to be sufficient satisfaction in the bedchamber, that maybe we could at least share danger together. I am perhaps too young and unsophisticated for you in some areas, sir, but I have much experience of this present business. Since you do not acknowledge that, we will settle for the sham marriage of convenience. I will be perfectly discreet, I a.s.sure you."

Justin had allowed this dignified speech to run its course only because he was quite dumbfounded. He had intended to punish her with his simulated annoyance for just a few more minutes before bringing the charade to an end, and now she was talking apparent nonsense. Except that she wasn't, because Danielle never talked nonsense.

"You have been keeping something from me, have you not?" He rose from his chair and came to stand, towering over her. "I warned you the last time that I would not be so tolerant again."

"I have kept nothing from you that you do not yourself know . . ." The fire died from her voice. "Perhaps you were not aware that I knew, but . . ."

"Knew what?" Justin pulled her to her feet and Danny's knees began to quake.

"Let me go!" She yanked herself from his grip and fled across the state room. "If you did not wish me to know of your . . . your . . . renewed . . . relations.h.i.+p with Lady Mainwairing, you should have told your mother and sister to keep still tongues in their heads."

Justin's jaw dropped. "My what?"

"Well, it is common knowledge that you have taken up with your previous mistress." Danielle sought cover behind the bed, even as she fired her arrows.

Justin found a thread he could grasp. "My mother told you this?"

"Your sister," Danny returned. "At your mama's instigation. She was afraid that if I heard from someone outside the family, I would react in an indecorous manner."

Sarcasm dripped as she mimicked Beatrice, and Justin, who knew his mother and sister only too well, finally understood. This had been behind the estrangement between Danielle and his family, and Danielle had been harboring this viperous secret all these months, before, through, and after their own reconciliation that had followed the revelation of her activities with D'Evron.

"Come here," he instructed, his calm voice belying the hurt that fuelled his fury.

Danielle decided that that was the least safe option she had. She moistened her dry lips with the tip of her tongue and stood her ground.

"It will be the worse for you if you do not," he said quietly, reversing her decision.

Danny stomped across the cabin toward him. Justin did not touch her. "Why did you not tell me of this before? You knew the true nature of my relations with Margaret."

"I thought I did, but since everyone else put a different construction on them, I realized I was wrong." Somehow, the hoped-for note of dignified outrage wasn't ringing true.

"You thought I would deceive you? You still think I have deceived you?"

Danielle looked at him, her eyes wide. Could she have been wrong? "If... if it is not true, then I beg your pardon," she stammered inadequately.

"I do not understand," Justin said deliberately, twisting the knife, "exactly what I could have done to deserve your mistrust."

"You might have trusted me enough to tell me that you had been Maman's lover," she flashed, unable to bear alone the guilt of this tangle.

"Sweet heaven!" Justin felt the ground of his righteous wrath slip from beneath his feet. "Who told you that?"

"No one told me." Danielle stiffened her knees and her resolve. "I happened to be behind the screen in the retiring room at Almack's when the Dowager d.u.c.h.ess of Avonley and Lady Almera Drelincourt happened to be discussing, with considerable amus.e.m.e.nt, the idea that you had taken the mother to mistress and the daughter to wife. They appeared to find it monstrous funny, my lord. I did not."

Justin winced, imagining the horror of that revelation on this direct creature. "I should have told you, my love, but I did not think to do so. It happened long before you were born and I was little more than a child myself. Had I thought anyone would still remember I would, of course, have spared you that. To tell the truth, I did not realize anyone knew of it."

"That is no excuse," Danielle said fiercely. "It was a fundamental fact that you should have told me long ago. I do not find the concept hard to accept, but... but you might have told me a little of her when she was happy. It was an unpardonable deceit to have kept that from me. I do not care how many mistresses you may have had, but I should have liked to have heard from you that one of them was my mother. After everything that has happened between us... my circ.u.mstances .. . the way we met, that you should keep that from me! How could I help but lose trust?"

"I do not know how to ask your forgiveness," the earl said, feeling desperately for the right words in what was probably the most major crisis he had yet faced. "The only occasion on which I thought of that interlude was in the Inn of the Rooster when you were telling me of your escape from Languedoc. It seemed inappropriate at that time to mention it, and afterwards ..." He paused. "You have kept me so busy, my love, that I have not thought of it. It was an unpardonable thoughtlessness, and I know not how to make amends."

Danielle felt as if Atlas's burden had been lifted from her shoulders. He should have thought to tell her, but he had not deliberately deceived her. If she had confronted him, instead of losing all faith in a man whom she should have known would never knowingly have given her cause to do so, the issue would have been dealt with long ago. It was all the fault of this d.a.m.nable society where living a lie was quite natural. Until she had become a part of that society it would not have occurred to her not to face her husband with the rumors.

"It is over," she said quietly. "I have been foolish and you have been thoughtless. We are even, n'est-ce pas?"

Justin felt a surge of relief as he reached for her and she came willingly into his arms, her body soft and trusting. "We will begin anew, my love. Only truth between us from now on-however unpalatable."

"Only truth," she concurred, meeting his gaze.

"Your word, Danny."

"Word of a Varennes."

"Then I am satisfied. Let us take horse, Madam wife, and begin our enterprise."

Chapter 16.

"What think you of the little de St. Varennes, Madame Verigny?" Marie Antoinette pa.s.sed a desultory needle through the tapestry of her embroidery frame as she posed the question to one of her ladies.

Madame Verigny looked across the queen's crowded salon in the Tuileries Palace to where Danielle sat on a low chair apparently engaged in animated conversation with a clearly admiring group of courtiers. "Elle est tresjeune et tres belle." Madame's laugh was brittle. "And not unaware of her charms, I think. Her husband should have a care-when midsummer weds with spring there is always danger."

"Tu as raison" Marie Antoinette agreed. "But I think that is a marriage made in heaven. They have eyes only for each other. La pet.i.te is a coquette, bien sur, but do you notice the way her eyes light up when the earl is near? It is almost indecorous." She laughed, a rare sound these days. "I find her a refres.h.i.+ng addition to our exile and we are in sore need of some warmth and sunlight in this gloomy place."

Madame Verigny agreed. The Tuileries was a damp dank contrast to the glittering airiness of the many-windowed Versailles. The perimeter walls were high, the gardens overgrown with trees, and the steep scarp of the Seine prevented any approach from the south. The Swiss Guard were in constant attendance, an ever-present reminder of the royal family's need for protection, although since the mob attack on Versailles last October there had been little overt hostility. But the court remained immured inside the walls of the Louvre and the Tuileries and avoided exposure to the world of the city. As a result, their only amus.e.m.e.nts were gossip and backbiting, and an addition to the coterie was indeed welcome.

Danielle, after four days, was heartily sick of the place. It stank of unwashed bodies and chamber pots hidden behind tapestry screens. Both men and women spent an inordinate amount of time scratching as the lice dropped from their elaborate coiffures to feast greedily on the tender flesh of backs and bosoms. Danielle, perforce, wore her hair lightly powdered because to appear otherwise would be seen as a gross insult to the queen, but she scrubbed herself in cold water both night and morning and spent the larger part of every night in pursuit of bed bugs who had a more than comfortable home in the feather mattress and appeared to find Danielle's blood considerably sweeter than they found Justin's. Justin, in desperation after the first night, had scoured the apothecaries for a lotion that faithfully promised to repel all boarders and had bought coa.r.s.e linen sheets to lay on the mattress as an added barrier. But his wife still leaped from the bed with a stream of profanities at least half a dozen times a night to hold a candle above the mattress in fruitless search of the beasties who vanished into the feathers the minute there was light.

She was waiting now for Justin's return from the a.s.sembly which, since the removal from Versailles, had its home on the north side of the Tuileries Gardens in what had once been a riding school built for the young Louis XV. The building was close to both the Tuileries and the Palais Royal where, in the former, the royalists debated with a pa.s.sion equal to that of their rival faction in the latter. Covered pa.s.sages now ran between the clubs and hotels of the Place Vendome, where administrative offices were set up, and members of the a.s.sembly could travel easily between the new parliament house and their offices, regardless of the weather.

Justin had promised to escort Danielle to the a.s.sembly in the late afternoon, once she had performed her duty asguest of the queen's court and could slip away without undue remark. Faithful to his promise he strode into the salon at around four o'clock, making his obeisance to Marie Antoinette before acknowledging his wife.

"I was just saying to Madame Verigny how pleasant it is to have company from the outside, my lord." The queen smiled at the tall, sober-suited figure. "But you are no courtier, sir. You are rarely with us." She tapped his wrist with her ivory fan.

"I beg pardon, Madame, if I appear neglectful," Linton murmured. "Danielle and I are most grateful for your hospitality, but there are matters of her estate that I must settle."

"It was most fortuitous that she was in England at the time of the jacquerie." Toinette said with a shudder. "Such a terrible story. The poor child must have been devastated."

"She was," Linton concurred truthfully. "But I feel sure that your kindness in receiving her has done much to restore her spirits."

"She does not appear to lack for spirit," Madame Verigny said tartly, and found herself on the receiving end of a frigid stare. Color crept into her cheeks and she returned to her embroidery as my lord made a deep leg to Her Majesty and went to his wife.

"That was unwise of you," the queen said to her companion. "I do not think My Lord Linton takes kindly to criticism of his wife, implied or otherwise, and indeed I do not myself think she has deserved it." Crushed, Madame Verigny made no response.

Danielle greeted her husband with impeccable lack of enthusiasm before excusing herself from the attentive group. "Dear G.o.d, but I am like to die of boredom, Justin," she declared as soon as they reached the corridor. "Maman always said Louis's court was a dead bore but I did not realize how much truth she spoke. You must allow me some freedom soon or I shall do something dreadful, I feel certain."

"Tomorrow," he soothed, "you shall don the gown of the burgher's wife and visit the shops, with Molly in attendance."

"But poor Molly has the most dreadful mal d'estomac. She insists it is the food and I daresay, if you are unused, it might have an adverse effect, but I think it was perhaps unkind in me to have brought her. Do you think so?" She looked up at him anxiously.

"I think, my love, that Molly will regale her children and her grandchildren with this tale of adventure and there will be no mention of her discomforts," Justin rea.s.sured with confidence.

"Well, I hope that you are right. Perhaps she is feeling more the thing already. I will visit her before we leave."

Danielle found Molly in the slip of a room adjoining the chamber occupied by the earl and his countess. She was still wan-faced and laid upon her bed, but the worst purging was now over. She managed a small smile as Danielle bathed her forehead with lavender water and matter-of-factly emptied the chamber pot out of the window. "I will procure you some bouillon when I return," Danielle promised, quite unsure how she was to manage such a thing in this rabbit warren of corridors peopled by faceless individuals, but she was determined nevertheless and Justin would help her.

"Tomorrow, we shall take the air if you feel able to leave your bed. I feel sure it will do you the world of good, Molly. The air in this place is quite fetid and must be most unhealthy. I shall send my lord for vinegar and scent to dispel the atmosphere. In fact, I cannot imagine why I did not think to do so before." So saying, she left Molly's chamber to give her husband the requisite orders which he received with a nod of comprehension and wondered why he had not thought to take such an elementary precaution himself.

They arrived at the parliament house in the middle of a vociferous debate. The long low narrow building was poorly lit and far too small to handle the haranguing tongues. Justin and Danielle squeezed into the public gallery that could accommodate a bare three hundred souls and Danielle gazed in fascination at the scene before her. She had visited both the House of Lords and the House of Commons in London under the auspices of Pitt and lint on. Nothing in this disorderly tumult remotely resembled that well-regulated process of debate, except for the seating where members sat across from one another separated by a gangway. There were three members on their feet simultaneously and the president, who held the position for but two weeks at a time, was quite unable to maintain order. As the voices rose in a floodtide of rhetoric, not one of them could be heard clearly.

"It is a madhouse," Danielle whispered.

"Yes, but do not say so aloud," her husband warned. "It is not always thus and some worthwhile legislation is coming out of this."

Danielle accepted the rebuke and lapsed into willing silence, concentrating on what was being said and forming her own impressions until she began to make sense out of the tumult. Her ears p.r.i.c.ked at the comments of her fellow spectators, and she concentrated on those around her. It was what she did best, this picking up of unconsidered trifles, gauging the mood of groups and drawing her own deductions. It was what Pitt would want of her and why Justin, who could not do this himself, had accepted her companions.h.i.+p, once it had become a fait accompli, with only simulated annoyance.

Once back in their chamber he listened to her and shared his own impressions before they joined the court at dinner, Danielle having first procured a cup of bouillon for Molly by dint of shameless and lavish bribery.

Dinner was a long and tedious affair, the food ill-prepared in the poorly equipped kitchens that had not been required to feed the court since Louis XIV had built Versailles. It arrived at the table cold having been brought vast distances through draughty corridors, and the conversation for the most part was insipid. Justin fared better than Danielle in this last, since he was at least able to talk politics with those courtiers sensible enough to have an opinion. Danielle, on the other hand, was obliged to listen to the malicious gossip of bored women and their complaints at the discomforts of the Tuileries. There were few who evinced an intelligent interest in the state of their nation; they had never been encouraged to do so, after all, in the pleasure-oriented world of Marie Antoinette's court.

It was toward the end of the meal that she became aware of the interested scrutiny of a pair of pale eyes. Their owner was a stranger to her, but that was not surprising since the composition of the court was constantly in a state of flux. As her eyes met the stranger's, he smiled, the expression lightening the long, aristocratic face. Danielle smiled back and the man murmured something to his neighbor.

"Who is the gentleman in the blue velvet?" Danielle asked Madame Cloury beside her. "He wears his hair in pigeon's wings. I have not seen him before."

Madame Cloury glanced across the table casually. "Oh, that is the Comte de St. Estephe. He rarely honors us with his presence." The plump white shoulders lifted, the movement causing one full breast to pop free of a neckline so low it barely qualified as such. Quite unconcerned, madame tucked the errant flesh away again. "He is a dour creature, St. Estephe," she continued. "His wife died in childbed some years ago. She was a poor little dab of a thing and petrified of her husband. It was said that he used her dreadfully and he is always so dark looking I am sure it was true." She shuddered deliciously and dropped her voice. "Two years ago, his mistress cut her wrists and died. It caused such a scandal but no one could implicate St. Estephe, you understand. But since then he has spent little time at court and takes his mistresses from the demimonde and they, naturellement, must take their chance."

Danielle, in spite of her distaste for the game of character a.s.sa.s.sination, was intrigued. The man looked innocent enough, although his eyes were cold and reminded her of those of a gaffed fish. But the smile had appeared warm and friendly enough. He could hardly be held responsible for the thin lips and fishy eyes that had accompanied him into the world. He was perhaps a year or so older than Linton, she decided. His dress was simple to a fault amongst this glittering throng. His only jewelry was an enormous sapphire on his index finger and his hair, while correctly powdered and curled, was a far cry from the ma.s.sive creations around him. All of which put Danielle quite in charity with the man. She was wondering how best to contrive an introduction when the queen rose from her place in the center of the long table on the dais, signaling the withdrawal of the ladies. Danielle resigned herself to the inevitable hour or so of simpering chat and indifferent performances on the spinet before the gentlemen, flushed with port and cognac, would decide to join them.

Roland, Comte de St. Estephe watched her leave, a tiny smile curling his lips. He stroked his angular chin thoughtfully and glanced up the table to where Justin, Earl of Linton, sat, twirling his port gla.s.s absently as he leaned back in his chair- perfectly at ease, it seemed, except for those shrewd blue black eyes that were everywhere. They had also watched the departure of the young countess and the look they carried interested St. Estephe mightily.

The news that the Lintons were visiting the French court had brought him hotfoot from his estate in Dijon to meet his enemy for the first time. He had been waiting many years for the appropriate opportunity. Now, he moved his seat to a vacant one opposite the earl. "Milord Linton, I believe."

"Yes, indeed." Justin's eyebrows lifted in inquiry.

"St. Estephe, at your service, sir." The comte bowed his head, examining the earl's expression intently for an unguarded flicker of recognition, but there was none. Either the man was a consummate actor or he did not know the story. "My father spoke often of yours," he said musingly. "They were good friends at one time, I believe."

Justin's face was a blank. "Forgive me, comte. My father died some eighteen years ago and I have a lamentable memory."

Not with those intelligent eyes, St. Estephe thought. But Linton looked genuinely apologetic so the comte shrugged and smiled. "Ah, well, it was many years ago that they were friends. Before my own birth, I believe, so it is hardly surprising. But I am most happy to make your acquaintance, my lord."

"And I yours," Linton replied automatically, wondering why he disliked the man after a mere ten minutes in his company. It wasn't just that he had been put at an embarra.s.sing disadvantage-the comte had rescued him from his predicament with impeccable courtesy after all. Perhaps it had something to do with that calculating gleam in those eyes so pale as to appear almost opaque.

St. Estephe, well satisfied, excused himself and went off to greet other acquaintances in the peripatetic fas.h.i.+on that was considered quite comme ilfaut at this stage of the dining ritual. He was one of the first to join the ladies in the long salon which remained dark and gloomy in defiance of the early summer evening. He made his obeisance to his queen who lightly chided him for being so long absent from court. The comte replied with the acceptable mixture of regret and flattery before turning the conversation adroitly to the Countess of Linton.

"Yes, she is a taking little thing," Marie Antoinette agreed. "Quite charming and refres.h.i.+ngly naive. We are enjoying her visit. They are here to settle matters of her estate after her family was ma.s.sacred . . . Well, we will not talk of such gloomy subjects; they do little to lighten the atmosphere in this dreary place. Do you care for an introduction?"

"Of all things, Madame."

"You should be warned, though." The queen smiled. "If you pay her too close attention, you will have Linton to reckon with. He regards her with an unfas.h.i.+onably jealous eye. She is very young, you realize."

"I shall take great care," St. Estephe promised, but his heart sang at this piece of information. The challenge would be greater and the revenge all the sweeter in those circ.u.mstances.

When the liveried flunky bowed beside the Countess of Linton with the message that Her Majesty wished to speak with her, Danielle rose from the sofa with alacrity. She had been covertly watching the exchange between the comte and 'Toinette and her ears were burning unmistakably.

"Madame." She curtsied deeply.

"I wish to present the Comte de St. Estephe, Danielle. He is most eager to make your acquaintance."

"You do me too much honor, sir." She curtsied again and swam upward, giving him her hand.

"The honor is all mine, my lady." He was in the act of pressing his lips to the small hand in a manner rather more ardent than the ritual demanded when Linton walked into the salon.

Justin frowned. What the deuce was the man doing s...o...b..ring all over Danny's fingers? And Danielle herself seemed to be enjoying it; judging by the delicate flush on her cheeks and the musical peal of her unmistakable laughter. That his wife was a natural flirt did not ordinarily disturb Linton in the least. It was harmless enough and she knew well how to freeze the gallant who stepped beyond the line of dalliance. But the comte made him as uneasy as the Chevalier D'Evron had once done-the sense that he was not just what he seemed.