A Dangerous Masquerade (14 page)

             
‘Why do people say such things of you, Willis?’ she’d asked with almost her dying breath.  ‘You were such a good boy…my loving son.  What have they done to you?  What have you done to them that they should speak of you with such disgust?’

             
He’d been too proud to beg for her understanding, too bitter to explain that his friends had been mistaken – that they were unfair when they accused him of being a traitor and blaming him for the deaths of men who had walked into a trap.

             
‘You were as much to blame as I, Harry Pendleton,’ he said in voice caught with emotion.  ‘You spoke openly of the mission that night.  I had no idea he was in the shadows listening, but you gave the secrets away not I.’

             
Neither of them could have known they had an enemy nearby.  Neither of them could have known that every word they spoke was overheard and later repeated.  Yet he had carried the blame all these years.

             
It no longer mattered.  He smiled as he realised the burden he’d carried had gone.  He had never been a traitor.  Indeed, he’d given important service to his king and country, but burning at the back of his mind had been the injustice of his erstwhile friends’ accusations.  Now he no longer cared if they though him worthy of trust – except that he would have Constance think well of him.

             
He had other friends who would acknowledge her – and he would make the kind of friends that she would feel comfortable with.  They could live quietly, mixing with a different kind of society.

             
He was planning to live with her instead of visiting when he chose?  That was a new idea.  It was a little raw about the edges and needed some more thought.  Besides, first he must make sure that Renard was out of the picture.  He couldn’t leave it to others no matter how much he might like to walk out of the whole dirty business.  He had to be sure the man was no longer a danger.

             
Moraven had made certain his enemy was well aware whom he had to thank for the loss of the children Renard was selling, as if they had no feelings or meaning.  He’d wanted to make his enemy so angry that he might lose his caution and step out of the shadows, but last night had changed things.  If Renard suspected that Moraven cared for Constance her life would be at risk.  He’d planned to stay here until the affair was over and they could leave for England together, but now he might have to make other plans.

             
He’d done all he could for the nuns and he would place further measures in train that should protect them into the future – but now his main concern must be for Constance.  Perhaps he ought to send her on ahead so that she would be safe.  She might argue with him, but he could send Ferdi or Dodds with her, as well as her own servants – if they chose to accompany her to England.

             
He might have to find somewhere else to stay until he was ready to leave.  By leading the rogues here, he had used Constance as bait and she’d understood and been willing – but he was no longer prepared to run that risk.  He wanted her safe in England, waiting for him. 

             
Would she go without him?  Would she feel that he was pushing her away?

             
Moraven wished with all his heart that things were otherwise.  If he were a better man…but the past could not be erased just because he wished it so.

             
He had things to do, people to see.  All this must wait until his return.  Before he left, he would make certain Constance had some money.  If he were killed suddenly and she happened to have fallen for his child…his blood ran cold at the thought of her predicament.  He would leave her a draft on his English bank, which she could use in an emergency.

             
He wrote out the amount and signed it with his usual flourish.  Ten thousand pounds would see her set up in a modest house for the rest of her life.  She could live as a widow and none the wiser, providing she kept her secret.  He placed the draft on the dressing chest where she could not miss it and went out.  She would not starve even if he were killed.

             
Constance was busy preparing porridge and toasted brioche when he went down to the kitchen.  She had prepared eggs and a rich mayonnaise to flavour them, which she placed on a warmed dish on the table.

             
‘Just bread and cold meat for me,’ he said, feeling annoyed that the old woman was seated at the table and seemed intent on making a lengthy breakfast.  He wanted to explain about the bank draft on the chest in his room, but could say nothing in front of her servant.  ‘I have to go out shortly, but I hope to be back for dinner.  Some soup, bread and cold meat is sufficient for my needs, Constance.’

             
He heard the servant sniff and looked at her sharply but she made no comment.  ‘Have you enough money for your needs?’

             
‘Yes, I believe so.  Do not worry.  I can manage.’

             
‘Here…’  He took ten gold coins from his pocket and placed them on the table.  ‘If you need more tell me.’

             
‘Have your funds arrived from England?’

             
‘Yes.’  He smiled at her.  ‘I can afford this and more in case you are worried.  Spend what you need.  There is plenty more, as you will soon discover, Constance.’

             
He saw the old woman’s gaze narrow in suspicion but ignored her.  What she thought did not count in his eyes.  Constance would know how much he valued her when she saw the bank draft.  He hoped she did not think it was payment and would have explained had there been a moment when she was not busy and the old woman left them alone. It seemed that neither was likely this morning and he rose when he’d eaten feeling vaguely unsatisfied.  There was so much he wanted to say, but the words would not come while he had a critical audience.

             
He was well aware that he was not good enough for her.  He’d taken unfair advantage and it was vital that Constance understood she would not want for anything.  As soon as he had time he would visit his lawyer in England and change his will.  Ten thousand pounds was merely to see her safely settled.  She would have everything that could be spared from his estates, which must by the entail pass to his heirs - and if they had children…

             
He was still pondering that problem as he left the house later without having explained to Constance why he’d left the money.  It was on his mind as he walked to meet his contact, though he was well aware he was being followed by not one but two shadows…

Constance told Heloise that she would see to the marquis’s room.  She knew the sheets showed bloodstains – stains that would tell her servant exactly what had gone on the previous night and she wanted to change and wash them herself.  Heloise glanced at her curiously but accepted the order to get on with clearing up the kitchen and the front parlour.

             
‘I should like the furniture polished,’ Constance said.  ‘Just because we only use one room it doesn’t mean our standards should slip.’

             
Her smile was in place when she left the room but it disappeared soon after, a thoughtful frown on her forehead.  Moraven had been faintly uneasy at breakfast.  Was he regretting what had passed between them?  For her it had been a beautiful way to seal their love and she had held nothing back.  Had her lack of reserve given him the wrong idea – did he think her wanton?  Surely he must know that she’d given herself to him, because she loved him?

             
Was that the problem?  Moraven had made it clear he would not wed her.  Had she made him uneasy because he must have known that she’d been virgin when he took her?  Perhaps somewhere there was a conscience that plagued him.  Yet she had asked for nothing.  She would never ask for anything but his love and if he did not wish for that kind of a relationship why had he made love to her so sweetly?

             
Entering his bedroom, she crossed to the bed and began to strip it of the soiled sheets. It was only when she had finished putting the room to rights that she saw the piece of paper on his dressing chest.  She almost ignored it and then some inner instinct prompted her to look.  Her name jumped out at her and she picked it up, quickly realising what it must be, though she had never seen a bank draft before let alone had one made out in her name.  Her father had never kept his money long enough to need the services of a bank.

             
Her throat caught with a sharp pain as she saw the amount.  What had he done?  Why had he given her so much money?  The first answer brought a slashing pain that cut her to the heart, but a moment’s reflection made her reject it.  Even the most expensive courtesan would hardly expect ten thousand pounds for one night of love.  So why had he given her this money?

             
Was he leaving her?  The dressing chest was still littered with his personal possessions, including his gold signet ring with his family crest.  Moraven would not leave something this personal behind so he meant to return – then why the bank draft?

             
He had left her money in case something happened to him and she was left alone, perhaps with his child to care for.  His thought had been to protect her not to buy her favours.  Warmth flowed through her but was quickly replaced by a chill.  Moraven had gone to this trouble because he considered his life might be in danger – and that danger was imminent.  He might be killed.  She might never see him again.  The thought brought a swathe of pain more dreadful than when she’d imagined the money was payment for services rendered.

             
Crossing to the window, she glanced down into the street.  She saw a man loitering on the far side pavement.  Since she knew another man was patrolling the gardens at the back of the house, she and Heloise were well protected.  It was Moraven whose life might be in jeopardy this very minute.  Shivering, Constance gathered up the sheets.  She had placed the bank draft on the dressing chest again, but placed a pin tray over it.  Moraven would see it on his return.  She hadn’t rejected his generous gift, but she would not take it – unless she was desperate.  Only if he did not return and she carried his child would she take the money, for the child’s sake.

‘I hope you don’t resent my being pushed on to you like this?’ the younger man asked as they walked through the streets together.  The heat of the day was gathering, becoming oppressive, and he pulled at his cravat, which appeared to be unconscionably tight.  ‘Headquarters thought for my first assignment I’d do well to serve under you.’

             
‘Are they mad?’ Moraven asked, one eyebrow arched mockingly at the young man’s eagerness.  Good grief, had he ever been as eager and green behind the ears as this pup?  ‘They’ve thrown you in at the deep end, my lord.  I am expecting an attempt on my life at any moment and I can’t have you cramping my style.’

             
‘I’m good with pistols and a sword.  I’m stronger than I look.’

             
‘No offence, South.  Strength has nothing to do with this.  We’re dealing with a ruthless devil who will kill without warning.  You would do better to get a few years behind you in the diplomatic core.’

             
‘I asked for intelligence,’ Lord Jonathan South replied, lifting his head proudly.  ‘And when they told me what you’ve done…’

             
‘Damn whoever it was for a leaking tongue,’ Moraven growled, then saw the hurt look in the young man’s eyes.  He had no idea what he was getting into but he was eager to be of service and there was no point in flaying him for another’s sins.  ‘Look, I would rather they hadn’t told you as much, but now that you’re here I do have a job for you – an important job if you’re willing to take it on?’

             
‘Yes, of course.  Anything, captain.’

             
A wry smile touched Moraven’s mouth.  He had done his research well!  Perhaps there was more to him than a pretty face and clothes that had obviously come from one of London’s finest tailors.

             
‘Very well, but don’t let me down or I’ll have your guts strung out on the line.  I’m going to be busy for a few days taking care of some filthy business that you don’t want to know about, but there is a woman who may be in danger because of me.  Her name is Constance….’ Moraven realised that he couldn’t tell his new colleague everything.  ‘She has been helping me and I’ve done a service for some friends of hers – and the problem is that my enemy may try to strike at me through her.  I want you to stay with her, be her shadow.  If she wants to go out make sure you’re with her – or somewhere close behind if she rejects your offer.’

             
‘I’ll protect her with my life,’ Jonathan said and his sincerity was like a beacon shining from his eyes.  ‘You finish what you have to do, captain.  I shan’t get in your way but you needn’t worry for Constance.’