"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 ma.s.sive 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 dest.i.tute 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 b.r.e.a.s.t.s." 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 G.o.d, he'd lost himself completely. 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 G.o.d 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, d.a.m.n 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 d.u.c.h.ess 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 d.u.c.h.ess'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 d.u.c.h.ess. 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 G.o.ddess with stout gold ribbons crossing and separating the soft white material covering her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

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 d.u.c.h.ess 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.

"h.e.l.lo, 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 n.o.body 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 l.u.s.t 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 d.a.m.ned duke? Yes, it is, isn't it? He's rich and t.i.tled, and that's what little wh.o.r.es like you want. That would make me more 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 b.i.t.c.h, 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 d.a.m.ned 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?"

She felt his anger pulsing over her. His large body was shaking. He was angry? She shook her head against his shoulder. "He said nothing. He just wanted to seduce me. I dealt with him, your grace," she added, terrified that he'd go after DeWitt.

She felt him stiffen taut as a bow string pulled tight. "No, please, you were right about such an occasion as this. At least half a dozen gentlemen have tried to seduce me. There's really nothing to it after the first three. DeWitt is a horrible man, but I would have shoved him over the railing if he'd tried anything. Who is he? How do you know him?"

"He hasn't been in London very long. I met him through Drew. He's Lord Hampton's secretary, from the Lake District, I believe. He's involved in all his lordship's political maneuvering. Now tell me, why did you come out here alone?"

He tried to pull away from her, but she wouldn't let him go. She stayed close, holding his lapels with her fists. "I wanted to be alone for a moment. There was nothing else. I saw that you were dancing. You were dancing with every lady here. You only danced with me once. Please, may we leave now?"

What the devil was going on here? He wanted to yell at her, but knew it wouldn't gain anything. He said, "Very well. But you will have to release me."

"I don't want to, but I will." She did release him but left her hands flattened against his chest. "Thank you," she said, looking up at him. "Thank you for coming after me."

She'd disarmed him. He had to shake his head. "d.a.m.n you, I came after you to beat you for being such a fool as to come out here alone. When I saw DeWitt follow you, I nearly threw my dancing partner into the punch bowl." He gave her a smile that held still a bit of anger, and she saw it plainly since she knew him so well. But he hadn't yelled or ranted or run after DeWitt and pounded him, thank G.o.d.

"Thank you," she said again. She stepped away from him, her reticule held tightly to her chest.

He said from behind her, "DeWitt has a reputation that isn't at all nice. I've heard it said that he likes to hurt women. He likes them at his mercy, both in bed and out of it. He was certainly wrong to follow you, wasn't he?"

"I did spit on him," she said, still so frightened and guilty that she wanted to fold up and let the cold freeze her to her soul.

"What would you have done if that hadn't worked?"

"I would have kicked him in the groin. My father told me to do that, as an extreme measure to stop a man."

"That would be the result, certainly. Now, if you would excuse me, I want to speak to DeWitt, teach him a very small lesson that would perhaps better his manners and his judgment."

She grabbed his arm with strength she didn't know she had. "No!" A black eyebrow arched upward. "No," she said again. "Please don't go near that man. He isn't honorable like you are. I know it. He's the kind of man who would laugh and smile to your face and slip a stiletto in your back the moment you turned away. No, don't go after him. Please, forget him. Please."

She looked distraught, even terrified. Because she was afraid for him? Evidently so. He was again disarmed, and annoyed.

"Please," she said again. "I want to go home. Please don't go after him. He's not honest and good like you are. He's an animal."

The duke flung back his domino and took her arm. "Let's fetch my mother, then, and we'll leave."

She laughed. "If you had a cutla.s.s right now, the image would be perfect. Oh, dear, I'm actually laughing instead of shaking in my slippers." "What d.a.m.ned image?"

"You looked like a pirate when you flung back the domino, the moonlight behind you."

He groaned. "Listen to me. If I were a pirate, I'd be wise to have you flogged. No other woman has ever made me see myself as you have. Let's go."

An hour later, when he stopped at her bedchamber door, she said, "Do you remember your promise to me?"

"Which one would that be?"

"I could return to Chesleigh whenever I wished to."

"Yes," he said.

"I want to return to Chesleigh tomorrow." He was silent overlong. Finally he said, "Would you like to tell me what's going on?" "I want to go back to Chesleigh." "Why?" he said, his voice very low, very gentle. "Tell me why you want to leave."

He blinked in surprise when she said suddenly, "Now that Napoleon is back in power, what will happen?"

He shook his head. "Napoleon is a man who must rule, not just one city or one country. He must have everything. He will never stop, never. There will be war, nothing else will stop him. Didn't you know? Wellington is now with the Prince of Orange in Brussels. Perhaps a month from now? Two months? It will be b.l.o.o.d.y, but you know, I'm not a doomsayer like many of our countrymen. The fact is that Napoleon decimated his army on his ill-advised invasion of Russia some two years ago. He has inexperienced boys now swelling his ranks. Wellington will win, he must." "I know he will as well. Thank you," she said, not looking at him. "I will leave in the morning, Edmund with me, if that pleases you. There is no need for you to escort us back to Chesleigh."