Anne Barbour (25 page)

She glanced around the room, aware that not all the costumed and domino-clad guests strolling about the rooms were the bored party-goers they seemed. She thought of the men hidden even now in the small salon where she was to meet Miles in less than an hour. She knew there was no personal danger to her in the assignation that would take place shortly, but she could still look forward to it only with dread.

But, she thought wearily, what did it all matter? Despite Jonathan’s insistence that they would face her exposure together, Tally had no intention of letting that happen. She had already suborned one of the Thurstons” footmen, a young man blushingly dedicated to her, into purchasing a ticket for her on the stage leaving for Cambridgeshire on the following day.

She had contracted with George Mapes to provide the illustrations for two upcoming publications, and after a great deal of sometimes acrimonious discussion, they had reached an agreement that Tally would conduct her dealings with the publisher via post.

Within a year or two, she reflected dismally, she would be financially independent. She could move out of Henry’s household into her own establishment. Perhaps she would move to the Continent, as had other disgraced practitioners of the arts, such as Lord Byron. Perhaps… Her uncomfortable ruminations were cut short as she felt Jonathan stiffen beside her.

She looked up, startled, to find Merlin, in all his bewitching brilliance, standing before her.

He nodded silently to Jonathan and then turned to Tally. Even at this close range; she could not clearly discern his face, but the familiar mocking note in his voice identified him.

“How pleasant,” purred Miles, “to find a fellow denizen of the enchanted realm. And such a charming representative, as well. May I have this waltz, Your Ethereal Majesty?”

Jonathan moved as though to intervene, and Tally hastily put out her hand to Miles.

“Of course, my lord Wizard,” she said in a calm voice. The next instant she was whirling about the floor in the black velvet embrace of Miles Crawshay, leaving Jonathan watching uneasily from the perimeter.

For a time, there was little conversation between the two. Tally found that her distaste for her partner distracted her from the rhythm and beauty of the music, and several times Miles’s soft chuckle sounded as she stumbled in a misstep.

“Really, my dear,” he drawled. “I am not going to ravish you right here on Lady Crewell’s dance floor, though the idea has a certain piquancy. Do you think you might relax just a fraction?”

Tally stiffened, and tried to keep the trembling that had started in the pit of her stomach from reaching her voice.

“I do not fear you, Mr. Crawshay.”

“Do you not, my queen? How very unwise of you, for I assure you, I can be very dangerous. Do you have the papers with you?”

Tally had been conscious all night of the bulky packet that had been sewn into one of the lawyers of gauze that made up the skirt of her costume.

“Yes,” she whispered through dry lips.

Tally sensed rather than saw the familiar, hateful smile that flickered in the hooded shadow before her.

“Very good. And you have not forgotten our little rendezvous upstairs later this evening?”

Unable to speak, Tally shook her head.

“Excellent. I shall see you there shortly. Do not fail me,” he concluded dramatically.

As though Miles had planned it, the strains of the waltz died away at that precise instant, and with a dazzling swirl of his enchanter’s cloak, he was gone.

A moment later, Jonathan was at her side, and she pressed gratefully into the strength of his lean body. “Are you all right, Tally?”

She raised her eyes to his and was warmed by the concern she found there. “Yes, yes of course. We spoke of the merest commonplaces. Except at the end,” she added, forcing a laugh. “He became quite sinister as we finished our dance, implying doom and disaster to anyone trying to thwart his evil plans.”

Jonathan instinctively rose to the balls of his feet in a boxer’s stance, and his hands clenched into fists. He sent a savage glance after Crawshay and prevented himself with great difficulty from going after him. He felt utterly helpless at the moment. It was not an emotion with which he was familiar, and he found that he did not like it above half. He ached with the desire to protect this vital, vulnerable little creature who meant his life to him, and he could do nothing.

“Tally—my darling—it’s not too late,” he said urgently. “We can still slip away. Crawshay is not possessed of much physical courage, and I have little doubt I can persuade him of the unwisdom of smearing your name all over London. As far as putting an end to his little spy operation, now that Richard knows of his plans, he can surely figure out some other way to trap him.”

The security of Jonathan’s strength, and the temptation to accept his suggestion was almost overwhelming, but Tally steeled herself.

“No, Jonathan, it must be this way. Richard has been after Miles for too long to allow this chance to slip away. He must not be left at large for a second longer than necessary. Who knows what other irons he has in the fire right this minute? Just think of the damage he and that Mendoza person could inflict in even so much as a day.”

At this point, a lanky pirate with drooping moustaches claimed her hand for the
boulanger
, and Tally smiled brilliantly at Jonathan over her shoulder before floating off in a cloud of gauze on the pirate’s bony arm.

The next half hour passed by in a blur, as Tally was claimed for one dance after another, until at last she found herself cast up from the sea of sporting merrymakers almost at the feet of Cat and Richard, garbed as gypsies, who were recouping their strength at the punch table.

“I saw you dancing with Miles Crawshay!” were Cat’s first words, as she handed Tally an iced champagne cup. “What did he say? What did you say? Oh, Tally, are you sure you’re up to this?”

Tally said nothing, merely shooting her friend a speaking glance. Cat drew a deep breath, glanced up at her husband, and laughed in self-deprecation.

“I must sound a perfect pea goose. Richard has assured me that you will be safer than houses when you go to meet Miles, but I must confess I am in a positive quake.”

“And I must confess,” replied Tally with a weak smile, “You’ve expressed my sentiments exactly.”

She, too, raised her eyes to Richard’s and that gentleman cleared his throat and put his hand to the gaudy scarf tied round his neck as though it had suddenly seen fit to strangle him.

“Both of you are being quite nonsensical,” he said austerely. “We have had Miles under surveillance from the moment he left his lodgings this evening, and we have been watching Mendoza, as well. He has not left his house all day.” He placed a hand lightly on Tally’s shoulder, and his tone was serious. “You know I would not allow you to be placed in jeopardy.” A twinkle suddenly appeared in his eye. “If anything were to happen to you, I shudder to think of the consequences to my marriage.”

“How can you joke about such a thing?” asked Cat, her huge golden earrings atremble. “Now, tell me again, about the men who are watching Tally, and the others who will leap out and bring Miles Crawshay to justice. I do think…”

But Cat was forced to leave her sentence unfinished, as a tall gentleman in an olive green domino halted before the group and diffidently requested Tally’s hand for the next dance.

Tally opened her mouth to refuse, but her gaze was caught by Miles’s glittering black robes gliding silently through the throng on the other side of the room like a storm cloud intruding on a children’s picnic. She shivered instinctively. No, she had a half an hour before she need confront Miles and his perfidy. Until then, she would try to enjoy herself.

She smiled a farewell to her friends and moved into the rhythm of a sprightly waltz on the arm of the green domino.

Try as she might, however, she could not quell the panic rising in her throat at the thought of the rendezvous that was drawing nearer by the second. Nothing could possibly go wrong, she assured herself. The next second she thought, but what if something goes wrong?

She was forced to smile at herself, and her partner bent his head questioningly. Guiltily, for she had not had two words to say to the gentleman in the green domino, she turned her smile on him and uttered an inconsequential remark about the quality of the orchestra. He mouthed an appropriate response, and as the music began to die away, she looked around for Jonathan. At that moment, to her astonishment, the tall gentleman, who had been holding her so respectfully during the dance, suddenly tightened his grip on her and moved swiftly into a small, dark corridor leading from the ballroom.

Tally went rigid with shock, and the next instant she began to struggle. She opened her mouth to scream, but instantly a hand was clamped over her mouth. She twisted so violently that her mask was torn from her face, to be trampled underfoot.

Swiftly, the man dragged her along the winding corridor, until he reached a door set deep into the wall. Wrenching it open, he thrust Tally inside a small, dark room.

Chapter Twenty-one

Miles Crawshay’s eyes shone with mockery, and his laugh was cool and derisive as he turned the key in the lock behind him.

“I hope you don’t mind, my dear. I rescheduled our appointment. I apologize for startling you, but, you see, I have grown wary over the years, and, while I am sure you would not betray my innocent trust, I feel it is better — much better — to be safe than sorry. I do so want this little interview to be strictly
entre nous
.”

He removed his hand from her mouth, and Tally wiped it vigorously to remove the musky taste of him. The room in which they stood was small and bare, except for a few pieces of discarded furniture, obviously left there for storage. A single candle burned feebly on an old commode set in one corner. Tally’s first instinct was to flee, but she was still held in Crawshay’s grip. In the next instant, she realized with a sickening lurch of her heart, that it would ruin everything if she were to make an effort to escape. Crawshay would perceive immediately that he had been betrayed, and all the plans that had been so carefully laid would come to naught.

“But... but...” she quavered. “I saw you—just now across the room! That is...”

His fingers slid caressingly over her hand as he released her, and his lips drew back in a pleased smile.

“I am a man of some agility, but, of course I cannot be in two places at once. In order to assure any, er, interested observers that I was still safely moored to the dance floor, I merely passed my very noticeable costume along to a gentleman hired specifically for the purpose. No doubt even the perspicacious Lord Chelmsford believes that I am at this moment sipping punch in full view of the assembled merrymakers.”

Tally’s forehead creased worriedly as she considered this to be probably all too true. How in the world was she to convey to Jonathan that everything had gone terribly awry? And Richard! He had probably already made his way upstairs to that little salon at the other end of the house. How would...?”

Her panicky ruminations were interrupted as Miles laid his hand on her arm. She jerked away instinctively from his touch, and his eyes glittered dangerously.

The papers,” he said softly. “Where are they?”

Silently, Tally tore the little packet from their loosely stitched hiding place in her skirt and handed them to Miles. She prayed she was not making a terrible mistake in turning over documents of such importance to him. There was no one to stop Crawshay from simply walking away with them. She must manage to raise an alarm—but how? She could not escape from a locked room, and there was little likelihood of the servants coming to this remote section of the great town house. All would be occupied among the noise and the revelry far away. She began to look around surreptitiously for a weapon.

Crawshay reached eagerly for the papers, and his smile broadened as he examined them.

“Excellent, my dear,” he breathed exultantly. “These will bring me a fortune. You have done well—and in such an excellent hand, even though you were obviously hurrying at your work.”

He bent on her that feral smile which she had grown to hate, and she assumed an expression which she hoped combined outrage with sullen fear.

“Of course, I was in a hurry. I was terrified the whole time that someone in the household would catch me at my work. It was cold in Richard’s study, too,” she added peevishly. “Now you have what you wanted. Please let me go, for I should not want anyone to find us together. Being seen alone in your company would ruin me.”

She turned toward the door, but to her dismay, Crawshay maintained his grip on her arm.

“I do like a female with spirit. How fortunate that we are to have opportunity to become better acquainted.”

Tally stared at him coldly.

“I cannot conceive what you are talking about. If you think I shall ever—”

She stopped abruptly as a soft knock sounded on the door. Miles released her and strode to admit a female figure muffled in a cloak of deep red silk. She slid into the room and turned to Crawshay, one hand fluttering up to touch his cheek.

“Oh, Miles, I couldn’t wait any longer. Is it done? Can we leave now?”

Tally stared in puzzlement as the woman moved into a pool of candlelight. It was the Chinese princess she had seen earlier in the evening! As Tally watched in growing confusion, slender fingers reached up to remove mask and dark wig.

Tally drew in a sharp breath. “Lady Belle!” she cried, in stunned disbelief.

Clea Bellewood whirled at the sound, looking equally astonished, and none too pleased. “Miles!” she gasped. “What on earth is this — this creature doing here? You were supposed to return her to the ballroom once she gave you the documents, were you not?”

Miles dropped a kiss on her rouged cheek.

“Patience, my love,” he murmured soothingly. “I shall explain all.”

“But, I don’t understand!” Tally cried. “Lady Bellewood, you cannot be—that is—are you part of this—wickedness?”

Clea’s wide blue gaze was cold and steady as an alpine wind.