A Dangerous Masquerade (3 page)

‘One hundred francs for the taxes – and whatever you can spare for the rest.’

‘Let us go into your parlour,’ Constance said.  ‘I must keep some for my taxes but the rest you may have.’

She followed Sister Helene into the comfortable parlour and poured the money on to a small side table against the wall.  Seeing the piles of golden guineas, she was shocked.  Until this moment she had had no idea how much she’d stolen.

‘Did you win so much?’  Sister Helene looked stunned.  ‘There must  be more than two thousand guineas here – and another thousand in francs.’

‘Yes, there is a lot,’ Constance said.  ‘I shall keep two hundred francs in case I must pay more taxes than you, for the comte’s house is larger – but you may have the rest.’

‘Are you certain?’  Sister Helene put out a tentative hand to touch the piles of coins.  ‘I have never seen so much money.  This will last us for weeks.’

‘You must use it wisely,’ Constance said.  ‘I have been lucky but I may not always be so fortunate.  If the luck deserts me I may have nothing to give you.’

‘Why not keep some for yourself?’

‘No, I want nothing, except that I must have for the taxes,’ Constance replied.  ‘If you hide this safely it will last you for a year or more.’

‘Longer,’ Sister Helene told her, eyes shining.  ‘I cannot thank you enough for this, comtesse.  You have been so generous to us.  This day I had five more children brought to me here by my sisters.  If it were not for you, we could not keep this house going.  Pierre keeps us safe from that wicked man.  Were it not for him the children would be taken from us by violence.’

‘You speak of Andre Renard?’

Sister Helene shuddered.  ‘If he ever discovered where we are he might send his men to raid us.  Even Pierre might not keep us safe then – but for the moment we have money and we are protected.  God is with us.’

Constance made no reply as the nun made the sign of the cross over her breast.  Her guilty conscience pricked her.  If God was truly watching over them, what did he think of her action that night?  She ought not to have stolen what was not hers – but the temptation had been great.  The rich English milord had been so careless, so clearly bored by the whole evening.  Winning a small fortune meant nothing to him so he must have far more than he needed.  He would not truly miss what she’d taken – God forgive her.  It was for a good cause.

‘We must continue to hide the children from Renard,’ she said.  ‘Have you thought of leaving Paris – taking the children to the country, where they would be safe?’

‘My order is here in Paris – and it is here on the streets that we find the children who need our help.  God will provide.  He sent you to us, comtesse.  He will protect us from our enemy.’

‘We must pray that it will be so,’ Constance said.  ‘Is there anything more I may do for you?’

‘You have done more than enough.  You must not risk coming here again until it is necessary, comtesse.’

‘Another time I may send Pierre, but I think I shall not gamble for a while.  It will not do to push my luck too far.  I shall wait for a few weeks before I try again.’

‘As I told you, the money will last us for more than a year.’

‘Then I shall not come for a while.’  Constance inclined her head, hardly able to hide her yawn.  ‘I am tired.  I must go home and rest.  I shall send for Pierre when I need him.’

Taking her leave of the nun and her servant, Constance made her way through the mostly silent streets.  Occasionally in the distance she heard the clatter of a horse’s hooves on cobbles or the cry of a night-bird but most of those who had spent the night drinking or gambling had gone home.  Only those who had no homes to go to lingered in the shadows and under arches.  Eyes peered at her from the darkness but no one approached her.  Her disguise saved her from an amorous drunk hunting for whores and the beggars saw nothing in her modest apparel worth the effort of trying to rob her.  As well for them since Constance carried a small pistol in her coat pocket.

She was not afraid of the night or the shadowy creatures dressed in rags, but she was very tired.  Her life was not of her choosing and though her good works had kept her going all these past weeks, her shame had made her uneasy.  It would be a while before she could forgive herself for becoming a thief.  Gambling was one thing but…

The door of the comte’s house opened as she approached.  Heloise did not hear well, but she knew how long her mistress ought to be and was waiting at the window, keeping watch.  

‘You’re back safe then,’ she said.  ‘Someone came here tonight after you left – a man.’

‘Did you open the door to him?’

‘No.  Why should I?  I did not know him.  You never have visitors at night.’

‘I never have visitors at all,’ Constance said.  ‘I have told everyone that I am not at home until my mourning is over.  Once I cease to wear black…we may have to leave here.’

‘You have been fortunate to keep up the pretence as long as this,’ Heloise grumbled.  ‘If your aristocratic friends knew that you had no servants they would cease to invite you to their houses.’

‘Yes, I know.  I’ve always known that the masquerade could not last forever.  I hoped the comtesse would return.’

‘She is dead.  You should take her things and leave – go away and live quietly where you are not known.’

‘I shall not steal her things.’

‘Then how shall we live if you no longer gamble?’

‘I don’t know.’  Constance sighed.  ‘I’m too tired to think about it tonight.  Go to bed, Heloise.’

‘You should go to bed too.’

‘Yes, in a moment.’

Constance went into the little parlour she used.  The rest of the house was under dust covers, because it was too much for Heloise to keep clean.  She had received one visitor here soon after the comte died but the covers had not been on then and the comte’s distant cousin had gone away none the wiser.  If Monsieur Daubeny returned and discovered her living this way he might become suspicious.  He’d told her there was some property that belonged to the comte.  If she were really the comtesse she could have instructed the lawyers to sell it, but it did not belong to her.

She would not steal what belonged to Madeline.  So why had she stolen that English milord’s purse?

Constance put away the money she’d retained for taxes, then picked up a candle and went up the stairs to her room.  She closed the door and then stiffened as she saw that her things had been disturbed.  A cold chill trickled down her spine.  She moved towards the bed, seeing that her clothes had been taken out and thrown down on the bed – her own clothes, the gowns that she’d worn before she became Madeline Dupree’s maid.

The little door into the dressing room was slightly open. Her chest tight with fear, she moved towards it and then stopped as it was thrust back and a man walked into her room.  Heart thudding, she stared at him, her mouth running dry as she saw his face.  He was a tall man, handsome, his hair dark and his eyes blue.  He was the English milord she had robbed of his purse.

‘What are you doing in my house?’

‘I have come to inquire what you did with my purse,’ he replied, his mouth harsh.  ‘I saw the Comtesse Dupree enter and then a youth left – but you aren’t a youth, are you?  Just who are you – and what are you up to that requires such secrecy at the dead of night?’

‘You wouldn’t understand,’ Constance said.  She felt breathless.  He was so powerful and angry.  Any man would be angry at the loss of a small fortune – but not all men would have followed, broken into her house and waited for her return.  ‘Why did you break into my house?’

‘Why did you steal my purse?’

‘I didn’t…’ Constance lied but knew at once that it was the wrong answer as he advanced on her purposefully.  ‘Stay away from me or I’ll scream.’

‘It will do you little good.  Your servant is deaf and probably in her bed.  You have no others – unless the giant returned with you?  No, I didn’t think so.’  The man’s gaze narrowed.  ‘Just what are you up to?  You wore a wig to the party – was that to help hide your identity?  I’d wager my life you’re not the lady you profess to be.  Have you murdered her and stolen her life?’

‘Of course not.  I love her as a sister…’ Constance faltered as she realised that she’d given herself away.  ‘What makes you think I’m not the comtesse?’

‘The way you live in this empty barn of a place.  If you were who you claim to be, you would have servants and be waited on – and this isn’t the comtesse’s room.  Yet it is where you sleep, isn’t it?’

‘Since you know so much I have no need to tell you.  I am merely the custodian of her things until she returns.’

‘Why are you pretending to be her?’

Constance hesitated, then, ‘Because I need to earn money at the card tables.  It is the only way I can…do what I do.’

‘And what is that, pray?’

‘You wouldn’t be interested.’

‘Try me.’

‘It’s a long story.’

He walked to her bed, piled the pillows up and lay back against them, crossing his long legs as he waited.

‘I have all night.’

‘A gentleman would take his boots off before lying on a lady’s bed.’

‘If you were a lady I should not be lying on your bed.  Tell me your story.  You can start with your name.’

‘Constance.’

‘And the rest of it, if you please.’

‘Constance Hatherstone.  I was my lady’s maid and companion when her parents forced her to wed the comte – and before that I was the daughter of a teacher of languages.’

‘Did he teach you to lie and cheat – and steal?’

‘I am not a cheat or a liar – and this evening is the first time I’ve stolen anything.  I didn’t take your purse for myself.’

‘You admit that you stole it?’

‘Since you have made up your mind to it I might as well.’

‘Go on,’ he said, his gaze narrowed.  ‘Tell me the rest of the story – and it had better be good.  Lie to me, Constance, and you will wish that you had never been born…’

Chapter Two

Constance took a deep breath.  The look on his face told her he wasn’t jesting.  She’d made a mistake taking his purse.  Her losses had made her panic and she’d acted on impulse but now she wished she had just walked away from the tables and tried her luck another day.

             
‘I need money to help children who would otherwise be dragged into a life of crime and degradation.’

             
‘And where are these children?’

             
‘They are at a safe house run by the nuns of this city.’

             
‘Why do they expect you to provide for them?’

             
‘Sister Helene thinks I am the comtesse, as do most people.  She asked me for a donation to help her cause and I had nothing.  I tried asking people to give money but no one was interested, or they gave a few coins.  I decided that the only way was to win the money playing cards.  My father taught me to play like a professional gambler.’

             
‘I suppose you cheat in order to win?  What happened this evening – why did you lose?’

             
‘I have never cheated,’ Constance said indignantly.  ‘I believe I was cheated this evening but I could not prove it so I left the tables after my first stake had gone.’

             
‘You lost your money and you needed it to protect some ignorant street children – so you took my purse?’

             
‘I’ve never taken anything before but…you looked so bored and you were careless with your money.  The purse strings were dangling and it was easy to take it from you.  I hoped you would not realise it was me.’

             
‘Your ploy was clumsy.  I am inclined to believe that you are not a professional pickpocket, but I’m not sure if you are lying about your motives.  If you care about those children why not sell the jewels you were wearing last night?  They would bring a high price from a reliable jeweller.’

             
‘They are not mine to sell.  My lady has suffered enough at her husband’s hands.  She deserves to have his fortune waiting for her, such as it is.  Much of it was lost at the tables before he became ill.’

             
‘Your scruples would be laudable if I could believe you – but a thief is a thief.  Why should I believe you?  You could have killed Madeline Dupree and hidden her body.’

             
‘If I had done that I should have sold her things and run away before this.’

             
‘Why should you while everyone thinks you the comtesse?’

             
‘I keep only what I need for a fire and food – and the taxes.’

             
‘Where is my money?’

             
‘I have two hundred francs downstairs, to pay taxes when the demand is made.  I gave all the rest to the nuns.’