To her absolute delight, they no sooner finished that ditty than they broke into another, this one about Wellington upon receiving word that Napoleon had abdicated. The two were meant to go together, surely.

aHe was pulling on his boots so it was said,

planning the next campaign, all in his head.

Then the messenger came all out of breath,

shouting, aNo more death, no more death.a

aAnd Wellington said, aLeave me be, leave me be,

Iall put on my shirt and then Iall see.a

aBut the messenger grinned and danced with guile,

shouting, aListen, milord, heas choked on his bile.

Napoleonas eaten his hat, tossed down his sword.

Weall now go home and all be bored.a

aHurrah, Hurrah,a said Wellington.

aBy G.o.d, weave done it, by G.o.d, weave won!

No more battles, no more glory,

Iam England-bound to become a Tory.a a

She was grinning like a fool at the lilting melody, and the way the soldiers were butchering it and having such fun doing it. They enjoyed it, that was the point. She drew back into her bedchamber as the soldiers pa.s.sed out of her sight and her hearing, down the street and around the corner, their voices becoming a faraway echo.

The words werenat perfect, oh no, but to sing about what Wellington had supposedly said, it was warming, at least to her. There was another song, this one shorter, but shead heard it several times already when shead been out walking with Badger in St. James and had seen it being sold at Hookhams. Both the words and the music had been hastily printed, and thus reading it was difficult, but evidently enough people managed well enough. It was about the French Senate, manipulated by the astute and cunning Talleyrand, who had doubtless convinced the Czar to vote in old Louis to become king, and now that fat old idiot, brother to the late King, would now become Louis XVIII.

And now, wherever he was, Marcus was safe. Head been safe since April 6, the day Napoleon had abdicated, no, that wasnat true, theread been another huge battle at Toulouse and a myriad of small skirmishes. G.o.d, how shead prayed he hadnat been in Toulouse, the loss of life in that needless battle had been staggering. Surely he wouldnat have been there, surely. Spears would have gotten her word somehow.

Soon she would know exactly where he was. Soon, she would have him, the stupid fool, for time was growing short.

She walked to her small writing desk, opened the bottom drawer, and pulled out Spearsas last letter. Unfortunately the letter was dated at the end of March. Head written that he and his lordship were off on an a.s.signment and he didnat know where they were being sent. He would inform her, he concluded, when he was able. He ended by a.s.suring her that his lordship continued in his stubborn ways, but even a stoat could be brought about to mend his manners, perhaps. He finished by saying that all h.e.l.l was breaking loose now.

What did that mean? It made her shudder. What if he had been wounded or killed after Napoleonas abdication? Shead searched the papers for war news, for the notices of deaths. No word of Marcus. She wouldnat believe he was dead, never, for she knew that if anything had happened to him, Spears would have managed to get back to her, yes, yes, he would, she must believe that or go mad. No, he was well. She folded the letter and slipped it back into the desk drawer.

That evening, a balmy spring evening so enjoyed by lovers, as she sat alone in the magnificent drawing room of the Wyndham townhouse in Berkeley Square, she realized she had to devise a plan, a campaign really, just as Wellington was always doing, mostly with outstanding success. Once she found Marcus, she couldnat really see him succ.u.mbing to reason, despite all the private conversations shead created, first playing herself and then playing him. No, it would take more than words and sound reason. With Marcus, it would require an a.s.sault, the use of guile and cunning. Not a frontal a.s.sault, but an a.s.sault that would allow for no unforeseen deviations by his clever and equally cunning lordship. She rose, rang the bell cord, and waited for Badger. She hummed the ditty shead heard earlier, treasuring the melody and the words alike.

When Badger appeared in the drawing room, she grinned at him, not at all a stingy grin, and announced blithely, aIave got it now, Badger. The Plan. Are you all set to leave the moment we hear word?a aIave been ready for three weeks, d.u.c.h.ess,a Badger said, grinning back at her. aHis b.l.o.o.d.y lordship doesnat stand a chance if youave finally got a plan.a aNo, he doesnat, the fool.a

8.

PARIS.

MAY 1814.

HEaD BEEN AN a.s.s, a complete sod of an a.s.s, and he wished he could forget it, but he couldnat seem to, even though so many days and weeks had pa.s.sed. It was always there in the back of his mind, ready to spring back and shout it to his face, like now. d.a.m.nation, but head been b.l.o.o.d.y unfair to her. Not that shead shown any particular pain or distress when head shouted all those things at hera"calling her cold-blooded, frigid, for G.o.das sakea"insulting her until if head been her, he would have killed him. Dead, right on the spot, but she hadnat, shead just sat there, looking at him, saying nothing, d.a.m.n her beautiful eyes, d.a.m.n her control. Control, something head lost completely.

He hated being an a.s.s and realizing it and feeling guilty about it. And head done nothing about it. Head not written an apology to her, for surely what her father had done wasnat her fault, no, head done nothing at all. G.o.d, he wished she were here right now and he would . . . What would he do? He didnat really know. He hoped he would apologize for spewing his venom and bitterness on her.

He shook his head. He looked up to see his friend North Nightingale, Major Lord Chilton, come into the vast chamber. He waited until North was close then said, aAh, here comes Lord Brooks with two of his bootlicking aides, the chinless sots. They were right on your heels.a aWhere they belong,a North said, and smiled, that dark saturnine smile of his, and looked around the immense room with its thirty-foot ceilings and its gilded and lavish gold-and-white furnishings. Marcus was used to the opulence. North wasnat yet used to the heavy splendor of it, the oppressiveness of it. The room was in the former Parisian mansion of the Duc de Noaille, now on loan to Wellington and his staff. Czar Alexander was just down the street, in the even more splendidly decadent mansion of Talleyrand; he was Talleyrandas guest, no surprise, Wellington had remarked to Marcus and North shortly after Napoleonas abdication, since Talleyrand wanted to manipulate Alexander, and having him under his own roof with access to his remarkable cellars, would aid him enormously, as it indeed had.

aYes, but theyare not all that bad, Marcusa"the aides, that is. I heard them singing that new ditty about Talleyrand and how that wily and ruthless old fox is maneuvering not only the Czar but also the French Senate to bring back fat old Louis. They sang rather well as I recall.a aHeas got no more sense than a goat, does Louis, but at least heas the rightful ruler.a aAnd no more presence than a pompous stoat. Ah, but Talleyrand succeeded, and Louis is now on the French throne. Lord, but I never want to tangle with that man. Itas said that his mistresses put shame to a legionas numbers.a Marcus looked bored. aIave sometimes wished,a he said after a moment, keeping an eye on Lord Brooks and those two eavesdropping aides of his, athat Talleyrand were English. Castlereagh is a brilliant diplomat; men trust him, but still, it seems to me thereas just too much honor in Castlereagh, not enough guile. He has difficulty, Iave seen, lying directly into another manas face.a aA failure indeed,a North said, and un.o.btrusively poked Marcus in the ribs, for Lord Brooks appeared to be coming over for a chat.

aMy lords,a Lord Brooks said, all amiability as he looked them over, as he did on a daily basis. He was an older man with a fierce tuft of white hair, a large nose, and a brain that was exceeded only by his height, which was just barely over five and a half feet. aSo, we now have Louis XVIII as the French king. I believe it an excellent thing that Napoleon has retained his t.i.tle of emperor, donat you?a Marcus thought it the height of stupidity, but said nothing, merely began sorting through some military dispatches.

North said easily, shrugging, aEmperor of what, isnat that a question that gives one pause? Ah, yes, he is now the sovereign ruler of Elba, an emperor of boulders and beaches and a few scrubby trees.a Marcus said, aDonat forget all those French and Polish bodyguards. And he does have a navy, Lord Brooks, the brig Inconstant.a aYou perhaps dwell too lightly on an occurrence that surely justifies more sober reflection,a Lord Brooks said, looked at both men as if he would like to strike his glove on their cheeks, then strode back to his aides.

aWhat did that mean?a North said.

aG.o.d knows.a aG.o.d cares, Iam sure. Weall be more careful in the future, Marcus. It doesnat do to insult the man. Heas proud as the devil and hates to be shown his stupidity, a deadly combination.a They laughed, but not too loudly. There was no point in further angering Lord Brooks.

aIam bored,a Marcus said. ab.l.o.o.d.y bored. I donat know what I want to do but it isnat this.a aI know. Thereas nothing but the diplomats dancing around each other now, making promises, breaking them when the dawn breaks. Lord, I sometimes hate diplomats and all the endless games of diplomacy. Ah, Marcus, do smile at Lord Brooks, the old b.a.s.t.a.r.d.a aMore intrigue,a Marcus said. aI have this feeling he came over here to discover if we know anything he doesnat know. I canat count the times Iave been approached by underlings of Talleyrand, Metternich, Czar Alexander, to reveal any secrets I might have on Wellingtonas stand on this or that, or opinions, as those d.a.m.ned diplomats phrase their requests. Well, d.a.m.n all of them.a aAmen,a North Nightingale said. aYour arm looks a bit stiff today, Marcus. Youare moving it awkwardly.a aI know. Spears never leaves me alone. Every morning he watches me lift my heavy sword, up and down, up and down, very slowly, fifty times to get the arm back to its full strength. Then he ma.s.sages it. This morning I believe he must have overdone it a bit, it hurts like b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l.a aStill, despite his enthusiasm, it seems to help. Itas been just a matter of weeks since you took that bullet at Toulouse. Trust Spears, heas a good man.a aChrist, North, at least Iam alive with but a stiff arm. We lost four thousand five hundred men, not just casualties, as the war ministry says so glibly, and all because a messenger can ride only so quickly to inform Wellington that Napoleon abdicated four days earlier. The d.a.m.ned waste of it. So many men, dead for naught.a He unconsciously rubbed his arm again.

North watched Marcus close and lock the desk drawer, then stare down at the small golden key as delicate as a fine piece of jewelry, so insubstantial it looked. Yet Marcus always kept it with him. There had been two robbery attempts in the past two weeks. Even if a thief ripped the drawer open, he would only find outdated papers, for the secret drawer was well hidden.

The two men left the mansion and spent the next thirty minutes walking along the banks of the Seine, breathing in the clear early evening air, before crossing the western tip of Ile de la Cit on Le Pont Neufa"actually the bridge wasnat new at all, indeed it was the oldest bridge in Paris. They strolled down the Boulevard Saint Michel, speaking desultorily, cutting over to the Boulevard Saint Germain to where their rooms were located in a large early eighteenth-century mansion, the H'tel Matignon, at number 57, Rue de Grenelle.

Marcus waved to a fellow officer, crossing the street at a diagonal from them. aWe have our own battalion here in the Faubourg Saint Germain.a aDonat forget all the Russian soldiers here as well. Last night I had my window open, more fool I. I could hear them singing in their incomprehensible language until nearly dawn, drunker than a.s.ses. How the devil do they manage to get up and go about their duties?a Marcus shook his head. aIave seen them staggering in at dawn and up again at seven oaclock. And the number of prost.i.tutes has grown to staggering numbers, the randy b.a.s.t.a.r.ds.a aNone of them owes any of their wages to you, Marcus. How is the fair Lisette?a aFair as usual. I leased a very charming apartment on the Rue de Varenne for her. Her appreciation moved me.a North laughed. aIall just bet it did.a She was beautifully skilled, Marcus thought. He said aloud, aYou know what I really like about Lisette, other than the obvious things? Sheas always talking, chattering really, flitting about the chamber, always moving, telling me jests, laughing, always laughing. Sheas never silent, never likea"a aLike what? Like who?a aLike the d.a.m.ned d.u.c.h.ess, if you would know the truth of it.a North Nightingale looked at the fast-flowing Seine in the distance. aYouare a fool, Marcus.a aStow it, North. Iam a lucky man, so very lucky. Do you know that in my pocket at this very minute is a bank draft for two hundred pounds? My quarterly allowance for being the b.l.o.o.d.y earl of Chase, all duly notarized by Mr. Wicks. Itas taken long enough to catch up to me. I do wonder how Mr. Wicks found me.a aI do too. Youave managed to keep yourself hidden from everyone else in England. You wonat turn down the funds will you, Marcus?a ah.e.l.l, no. A goodly portion of it goes to Lisetteas upkeep.a He smiled at that, wondering what Mr. Wicks would say if he knew the old earlas groats were being spent on his hated nephewas mistress. Well, the old b.a.s.t.a.r.d had had his own mistress, the d.u.c.h.essas mother. Odd, how it seemed different, given the d.u.c.h.ess.

Where was the d.u.c.h.ess? Back at her d.a.m.ned cottage? Or reveling in her fifty thousand pounds in the middle of London society, entertaining gentlemen who doubtless all drooled on her, d.a.m.n her beautiful blue eyes. Head thought about her many times, wondered about what was in her d.a.m.ned mind, wondering, always wondering in those off moments, if there had been a man to protect her, to pay the rent on Pipwell Cottage, to pay Badger, to pay . . . G.o.d, none of it mattered now, not her motives, not her, none of it. His rage still burned deep and bright and strong. He never would see Chase Park or her or any of the other Wyndhams as long as he lived.

He wondered if the American Wyndhams had arrived yet to take over all the unentailed properties. Aunt Wilhelmina couldnat take possession, he recalled, until after the sixteenth of June.

Then it would belong to the Americans, at least all of it would after his demise. Trevor! That d.a.m.ned b.l.o.o.d.y dandy with his fopas name. Marcus could barely stomach even thinking about that name and the man it called to mind. He realized he had sworn to let that b.l.o.o.d.y Trevor inherit the earldom. Yes, Trevor Wyndham, the earl of Chase. It had a ring to it, a ghastly ring, but he accepted, even wanted it.

aWhere the devil are you, Marcus? Youave been silent as the d.u.c.h.ess youave told me so much about.a aIave told you very little about the d.u.c.h.ess. Very, very little.a aJust last week when you were quite foxed, you told me a bit more than very little.a aContrive to forget it. I have. Iave forgotten her. I hope she has a protector, sheas her motheras daughter, isnat she? Actually I was just thinking about my cousin Trevora"Jesus, Trevor!a"itas too nauseating to contemplate. Iam certain heas slender as a girl, with soft skin and hair, ah, but just hair on his fopas head, nowhere else on his body. And he probably lisps and wears his shirt points to his ears. He probably has as much muscle as Lisette.a North laughed and punched Marcus in his good arm. aHere we are at Lisetteas charming apartment. Go relieve yourself, Marcus, and try to enjoy yourself as well. Have Lisette position you in a more charming frame of mind. After all, Iam the one with the dark soul, with the black meanderings, not you. See that she takes care of you and I, well, I believe I will have a tidy little dinner and see what else the evening has to offer.a The men separated and Marcus knocked on Lisetteas front door. He listened, hearing her light footfalls as she ran to answer the door. Lisette never walked or glided. She was never silent when he made love to her. Ah, how he loved to hear her scream when he brought her to her release. Not like that d.a.m.ned d.u.c.h.ess. Doubtless shead be silent as the tomb.

Lisette DuPlessis looked pleased to see her Major Lord, as she called him in her lisping Englisha"b.l.o.o.d.y foppish Trevor probably said it just the way she dida"only he didnat have her marvelous b.r.e.a.s.t.s that drew his hands and his mouth in rapid succession.

She took his cape, his cane and unstrapped his sword, touching it lovingly. She ran her fingers over his scarlet and white uniform, delighting in the feel of the fabric and of him, just beneath it, speaking all the while, telling him what shead done since shead last seen him, which had been only the night before. She spoke to him now in French, save for his t.i.tle, and since his French was nearly as fluent as his Portuguese, he had no difficulty speaking and understanding. Ah, but shead taught him s.e.x words over the past weeks that curled his toes and made him hard as a stone.

He kissed her, then discovered he didnat want to stop. Her breath was warm and sweet with the rich red Bordeaux shead drunk. She was drinking too much, he thought, but for the moment, he didnat care. All he wanted was to be inside her. Her breathing quickened, and her hands, never still, never lingering, made him wild.

He wanted to go slowly, but Lisette knew men very well, despite her tender nineteen years. She knew he wanted her, knew that he was wild with l.u.s.ta"a young man was always wild with ita"and thus, she accommodated him with aplomb, stripping off his clothes in a moment of time, drawing him quickly into her bedchamber and onto her bed, covering him, urging him to come inside her. He did and it was over too quickly.

He said finally, once his breathing had slowed, and his heart was nearing its normal pace again, aIam sorry, Lisette. Iam a pig.a Her busy hands were busy on his back, stroking him, long deep strokes, sweeping over his b.u.t.tocks to gently ease between his legs. She giggled, bit his chin. aTrue, my lord, but I will be understanding. Will you promise to do better next time?a He grinned down at her, feeling all the grinding boredom of the day fall away from him. aYes,a he said, rolling off her to rise to stand beside the bed. aYes, I will do much better.a aAlready, my lord?a She eyed him with enthusiasm.

PARIS, HOTEL BEAUVAU, RUE ROYALE.

Badger wouldnat meet her eyes.

She eyed him with growing impatience. aCome, Badger, did you find him? Do you know where he lives?a aYes,a Badger said, nothing more, nothing less.

She waited. Obviously he was disturbed about something. He didnat want to tell her what it was. She walked to the gilded blue brocade settee and sat down. She said nothing more, merely waited. She began to sing in her mind, Lord Castlereagh needs more bombast. He speaks too softly, never will he last. He needs to take lessons from Talleyrand, who has more guile than any man.

It was a beginning. Actually Canning had sufficient guile for any two ministers. She started to hum, realized that the melody was too close to another, and paused, her brow furrowed, trying to think of a different tune.

Suddenly, without warning, Badger said, aHeas got a mistress, d.a.m.n his eyes for being young and randy and like every other young randy man!a aTalleyrand?a she said, at sea. aCanning?a aNo, no, his lordship. I followed him and Lord Chiltona"a man we want to avoid at all costs, d.u.c.h.ess, trust me, heas dangerousa"they separated, and his lordship went in to see this young girl who greeted him and I know she was his mistress because she hugged him and kissed him and drew him inside this narrow building on the Rue de Varenne. Her hands were all over him, d.u.c.h.ess. He must live there, with her, or at least visit her all the time, nearly.a aWell,a she said reasonably, keeping some distinctly hateful feelings at bay. aHe doesnat have all that much money. He must practice economies, I suppose. Two households would doubtless place a strain on his budget. But I will wager you, Badger, that he has his own apartment. Marcus wouldnat live with a mistress. I donat know why Iam so certain, but I am.a aYou shouldnat be so d.a.m.ned understanding.a aHe is perfectly free to do exactly as he pleases and with whom he pleases. At least at this particular moment he is. Does Spears live in this apartment as well?a aI donat know.a aThere, you see, he does have his own lodging.a aAgain, I donat know. I hung about for a good two hours, and then he came out with her on his arm and off they went to one of those Frog restaurants that pride themselves on serving that nasty tripe covered with even nastier sauces. Animal entrails! Jesus, it makes me shudder. No, I didnat see Mr. Spears.a aWe must find him before we begin The Plan. Spears must approve. Iam so pleased Mr. Wicks at least told us Marcus was with Wellingtonas staff here in Paris. Even that upset his lawyeras innards.a aI know. Tomorrow morning, early, Iall go back to the apartment and see where the earl goes.a aMake it very early, Badger. He has his own lodgings.a aHis arm is stiff.a aWhat do you mean?a She was sitting forward, suddenly rigid, suddenly very afraid. aWhat do you mean?a she asked again.

aI asked around, all discreet. He was wounded in the final battle, at Toulouse.a aOh G.o.d. Did youa"did you see any pain on his face, Badger? Do you believe he has suffered? Oh G.o.d.a Badger looked at her full in the face. This was odd, he thought, but hopeful. aI donat know. Donat worry, d.u.c.h.ess. Tomorrow, no matter what else, Iall find Mr. Spears. Shall I bring him here?a aOh yes,a she said, but she appeared distracted. Good G.o.d, he thought, sheas thinking about his lordship being wounded. It bothers her. Glory be, this was better than head ever imagined. If only theyad heard from Mr. Spears before theyad left London.

Spears said in his patented bland voice, aDid you hear, my lord, that when old King Georgea"while held in the kind restraining hands of his two wardensa"was told the Allies had marched into France two months ago, he asked who commanded the British forces. He was told it was Wellington. Old George shouted, aThatas a d.a.m.ned lie. He was shot two years ago.a a Marcus grinned. aPoor old mad George III. If he ever becomes lucid and discovers his son is the most scorned prince in history, it would likely split his spleen and push him into eternity. Before he became as raving mad as a jackdaw, he wasnat all that bad a ruler.a aI think he knows, my lord,a Spears said. aYes, many believe the stupidity and endless greed of the son led the father into insanity. Now, my lord, it is time for you to bathe and dress. I believe youare commanded to attend the festivities at the H'tel de Sully.a Marcus grumbled and cursed, but nonetheless, he was garbed in immaculate evening wear, and on his way in a hackney coach to the Marais, to the H'tel de Sully on the Rue Saint Antoine, for a diplomatic ball. He didnat believe head mentioned the ball to Spears, yet head known. The b.l.o.o.d.y man always knew everything. Marcus just shook his head and leaned back against the surprisingly clean squabs of the hackney. No surprise, really, for Spears had seen to the fetching of the coach, as well as everything else, curse his eyes.

Spears waited patiently until he saw his lordship well ensconced in the coach and on his way. He donned his cape and hat and took himself to the Rue Royale.

To his surprise and displeasure, she answered his knock. ad.u.c.h.ess,a he said formally. aWhy are you not in the drawing room? Why did you answer the door? It is not done. Mr. Badger shouldnat allow this. I will speak to him about this.a aPray do not, Spears. Badger is preparing our dinner and Maggie is doubtless preening. I believe she is seeing a Russian soldier this evening, not an underling, mind you, but a man of standing, and doubtless of grand good looks. She says she has a vast interest in Russian history and this young cossack is just the man to teach her. Oh my, let me take your cape and hat. Donat look so disapproving, Spears. Iam not helpless just because Iam no longer a b.a.s.t.a.r.d.a aIt simply isnat done,a he said, stepping away from her, abut I can see that you will continue to disagree with me. Now, this female, this Maggie, sheas the one who saved Badgeras life in Portsmouth before you sailed to France? The woman who saved him from being run over by a runaway mail coach?a aMaggie saved him all right. She yelled and knocked him right out of the way. She says she doesnat know why she did it, she just did. Sheas an actress, you know, and she tells me sheas quite good. However, she was temporarily, er, without acting employment, and thus I offered her a position as my maid, something sheas never done before, but as she says, sheas bright and willing and Paris is ever so exciting. And so sheall give me a trial.a aThat is quite the oddest thing Iave ever heard. She doesnat sound appropriate as your personal maid.a aI think, Spears, that Maggie will change your mind. I like her. Sheas different, somehow whole and unsullied, despite her rather colorful background. There is kindness in her and the sweetest devilment imaginable.a Spears divested himself of his own outer garments. His att.i.tude was stiff. It wasnat her duty to see to him. If she were lax in matters of propriety, he most certainly wasnat. He would speak both to Mr. Badger and to this Maggie, who was a sweet devil.

aDo come into the parlor or salon, as the French say. I want to hear everything. First, why didnat you write me? I had to find out from Mr. Wicks that Marcus was here in Paris. Then it took Badger nearly three days to find him.a aI know,a Spears said gently. aI will tell you everything.a aHis arm, Spears, is he all right? Why didnat you tell me head been wounded? Why didnat you write to me or send a messenger?a Spears was silent a moment, then shook his head slowly. aI had no wish to worry you.a He sighed deeply. aI fear it still gives his lordship a lot of pain. The bullet fragments are still embedded, you see, in his upper arm. Many times he canat sleep with the pain. Naturally he refuses to be quacked. He wonat even allow a tincture of laudanum in a cup of tea. I have, of course, many times ignored his wishes to do what is best for him.a Her face was perfectly white and Spears quickly added, his voice smooth and persuasive as a vicaras, aBut for the most part, it continues to heal. A physician could do nothing really. The fragments are very, very small and they eventually make their way out of the arm, which sounds rather disgusting, but it happens and itas a good thing it does happen. Itas just a matter of time until he is perfectly fit again, d.u.c.h.ess.a aTime grows short.a aActually,a Badger said from the drawing room doorway, a huge wooden ladle in his hand, atime runs out in exactly two and one half weeks. I, for one, hate to leave things to the last minute. Last minute endeavors never succeed.a aMr. Badger has told me of your plan, d.u.c.h.ess. It will work. We will contrive.a She believed him. He would make a splendid Foreign Minister, she thought, and took his arm as they walked into the dining room. There was no one to remark that the very rich young English lady, who had no chaperon and whose personal maid was upstairs arranging her glorious red hair in preparation to drive a young Russian cossack mad, was eating in the splendidly decorated dining room with her cook and an earlas valet.

The d.u.c.h.ess didnat hear a thing from Spears until the following evening.

aHis lordship,a Spears said with admirable control, and with two bright spots of color on his lean cheeks, agot into a fisticuffs last night. He is in bed with two cracked ribs, a black eye, and nearly an entire set of bruised knuckles. All his teeth, however, and thank the good Lord, are unharmed, still white and even and whole. He was also grinning like a sinner.a aHow could he fight with his arm still hurt?a Badger laughed. aMr. Spears, did he tell you how his opponents fared?a aYes. Evidently one of the English officers called him the Dispossessed Earl, and his lordship beat the, er . . . he gave better than he got. He was hurt because this opponent had friends. It was one-sided, you see. His arm wasnat harmed d.u.c.h.ess. It was unfortunate that Lord Chilton was occupied elsewhere, or his ribs just might have survived.a aI see,a the d.u.c.h.ess said, her voice faint. aHowever does anyone know about the stipulations of my fatheras will?a aThese things have a way of spreading,a Badger said. aLike the plague.a aThat is an excellent a.n.a.logy, Mr. Badger. Very apt. Any news that t.i.tillates precludes secrets. His lordshipas, er, mistress is with him, at his request. She very prettily asked me to provide her with the appropriate nostrums. I left her gently daubing his lordshipas brow with a soft cloth dipped in rosewater, and humming one of those new ditties to him, by that English fellow.a aHis mistress with him?a she said, her voice thin and high. aSoothing his fevered brow?a aI do not believe his brow is fevered. Despite his injuries, his lordship was giving her many, er, interested looks, which bodes well for his general feeling of well-being. However, despite his lordshipas wishes as regards her, I will nonetheless contrive to send her back to her own dwelling this evening. It may be very late, but it will be done.a He gently flicked a piece of lint from his dark blue jacket sleeve. aYou will be relieved to know she isnat a harpy, d.u.c.h.ess, nor is she always pestering his lordship for baubles and jewels and the like. Indeed, I believe she cares as much for his lordship as a creature of her stamp can care for anyone.a Like my mother, she thought, but said aloud, aI am delighted to hear it. Actually, relief is an emotion Iam not feeling at the moment, Spears. Perhaps I should invite her to tea to thank her for her restraint.a Spears turned away, hiding his very small grin, saying over his shoulder, aPerhaps it isnat such a good idea. She would expire with shock.a aThat would be a good start,a the d.u.c.h.ess said.

Rancor, Spears thought. It was indeed rancor, a goodly dose of it.

He said, aHer name is Lisette DuPlessis.a The d.u.c.h.ess said nothing to that.

aHis lordship likes her name. He thinks it sweet.a aI donat trust Marcus,a the d.u.c.h.ess said finally, looking over Spearsas right shoulder. aI donat want to chance leaving this business until the last minute. I agree with Badger. I want to complete the matter tonight.a aIf his lordship will allow me to remove his mistress from his bedchamber.a aYou said you would contrive.a aThatas right,a Badger said. aMr. Spears will see it done, d.u.c.h.ess. Donat worry. With his lordship at less than his full strength, it should make things easier. Also, Lord Chilton is at Fontainebleau and thus wonat be in our way.a She remarked to the heavy brocade draperies, so typically golden, and so typically French in their heaviness and opulence, aHis lordship is incapable of making anything easier. It isnat in his nature. If you both believe otherwise, you donat know him well.a

9.

IT WAS DARK. There was no moon, no stars to lighten the sky. Rain clouds bulged thick and heavy. Even as they spoke, it began to drizzle sullenly. There were no people on the Rue de Grenelle. A few candles were lit in the huge mansions, but not many.

Literary salons, she thought.

Men enjoying their wives or mistresses, Spears thought.

Mincing French chefs preparing menus, Badger thought.

The d.u.c.h.ess pulled her cloak more tightly about her neck. aNo, donat say it,a she said sharply to Badger. aI will not hang back and wait for you to whistle to me. Iam staying with you and Iall hear no more about it. No more arguments.a They walked the last few steps to the earlas lodgings.

aHeas asleep,a Spears said, pointing to a third-floor window that was completely dark. aI didnat give him all that much laudanum, but enough to send him into a stupor.a aWhat if he canat speak?a aDonat worry, d.u.c.h.ess,a Badger said. aWe will sprinkle his lordshipas face with some of his mistressas rosewater until heas conscious enough to do what heas told.a She shot Badger a look, but held her tongue. d.a.m.n Marcus for making all this intrigue necessary. She realized, even as she d.a.m.ned him for it, that she was enjoying herself. Hugely.

aIt is nearly three oaclock,a she said. aI have timed this two times now. Everything is on schedule. The official you bribed will be here in ten minutes. What is his name, Badger?a aMonsieur Junot. A hungry little man with a wife and four children. He was pleased enough to accept your proposal. Strange as it sounds, since heas a b.l.o.o.d.y Frog, I trust him.a aHe will see that everything is duly recorded in the public registry?a aIndeed he will. You will have the papers, all signed right and tight.a She nodded, stepping back for Spears to unlock the door. It made a prodigiously loud grinding noise. But Spears didnat seem to be concerned. He stepped inside the dark entrance hall, paused, and listened. Then he walked toward the staircase to the left, the d.u.c.h.ess and Badger behind him. She stumbled once, her foot hitting a table leg. Another horrendous noise, but Spears, again, seemed not to be at all concerned.

They were midway up the narrow staircase, walking as quietly as vicars in a brothel, when suddenly a candle was shone in their faces from above them, and a manas mocking voice said, each word in a loathsome drawl, aWell, well, do I have a quiver of thieves here? No, I daresay you, Spears, would not choose to rob me in the middle of the night.a aMy lord,a Spears said very gently, ado put down the gun. Perhaps your fingers arenat all that steady at the moment.a aCertainly they are. The two of you made enough noise to awaken the dead. Besides I wasnat asleep. Is that you, Badger? Whyevera"no, wait, there are three of you. Good G.o.d!a Marcus simply went silent with surprise. aYou,a he said at last. aMay I inquire as to why you are here, in my lodgings, at three oaclock in the morning?a aYes,a she said.

aYes, what, d.a.m.n you?a aYou may inquire, if you wish.a aYou and Badger and Spears. Do I scent a conspiracy here? Surely not. What kind of conspiracy would bring together the three of you? Why Spears, are you that concerned that I wonat be able to afford your wages on my allowance? I showed you the draft from Mr. Wicks.a aNo, my lord, Iam not concerned, nor does our presence here have anything to do with robbing you, my lord. Now, may I suggest that I a.s.sist you back to bed? Surely your ribs are protesting. Are not your knuckles very sore tucked about that gun?a Marcus said very slowly, enunciating each word, aI want to know what is going on and I want to know this instant. Not in the next instant, in this instant. Well, no, I want to know in the instant I designate. Now, let us go downstairs to the drawing room. Spears, you may lead the way and light some candles. d.u.c.h.ess, youave scarce opened your moutha"not that I expected you to in any case. As is your wont, youave merely sprinkled me with a mere smidgen of words. Badger, take her arm. I donat wish her to go break her neck falling down my stairs. If there is any neck breaking to do, I will be the one to do it. Go, now, all of you.a She felt Badger take her hand and gently squeeze it.

She felt her heart thud heavily. Head heard them because shead clumsily fallen against that table. Well, it was her own fault, no one elseas. Nothing was easy with Marcus. Nothing. Why was he awake? Obviously the laudanum hadnat been enough.

He was behind them. He was wearing only a dressing gown, his feet bare, his black hair tousled. How, she wondered, her heart thudding even more heavily now, had she noticed all that?

Spears had lighted a branch of candles. He held it high, stepping back as the d.u.c.h.ess and Badger stepped into the small drawing room. He lowered it slowly to a tabletop when Marcus came in.

She turned to face him and saw that he was still pointing the gun toward them. It was an ugly thing with a long barrel, an obscene hole in the end of it.