Royal Regard (34 page)

She stepped back and tucked her hand back
under his elbow, suddenly compliant, hysterical eyes looking away
into the crowd, studiously avoiding his face. “I should much prefer
you to escort me back to my cousin. I am perfectly well. I swear
it.”

“You lie, Bell—Lady Huntleigh.” It was like
she had travelled back in time ten minutes and again had no words.
“You are white as a shriven saint.”

She reached for as many excuses as she could
find, hoping there would be enough. “I have been lightening my skin
purposefully with
Unction du Maintenon
and powder.
Farine
du riz
. And it’s chilly. I should have brought my shawl.”

“Liar,” he snarled. “You are trying my
patience. Is this about Malbourne?” He stopped short at the
cavernous silence, and she shrank. “I will kill him. I will damn
well kill him.”

“No. No, Your Grace! He did nothing—it was
never his fault—
no one did anything
.” Her voice rose until
she was almost shrieking. “I just got
lost
!”

People in the crowd were now turning to look,
so he forced a smile and patted her hand, pulling her into step
next to him. She hoped no one else could tell from their eyes how
angry he was and how much more terrified that made her.

“Did he hurt you? Did he—” Nick’s voice
broke, “Did he
force
you?”

She kept her voice low, assuming everyone in
the vicinity could hear—probably already had—even through the
raucous music. “No one
forced
anything. No one
did
anything, least of all Lord Malbourne. Nothing happened except I
lost my way on the path and couldn’t find my way back, but you
found me, and I am perfectly fine.”

By the time she was finished with this
monumental set of lies, her voice and demeanor were almost back to
normal. She added some force behind it. “Now, since you are not my
husband, nor my keeper, and we are ten steps away from my family, I
will thank you to
let—me—go!
”

She pulled her hand free as Charlotte called
out, “There you are, Bella! You’ve almost missed the fireworks
entirely. I hope you will join us for the rest of the show,
Wellbridge. Alexander, open another bottle of champagne.”

As Bella and Nick stepped up to the box,
Alexander exclaimed, “Hare and hounds, Bella! You look like you’ve
seen the banshee.”

Charlotte’s face took on the same frantic
look Bella was trying to hide, inherited from their shared
grandmother. “What is it? What happened?”

Wellbridge handed Bella over to her cousin
and said, “Apparently, Lady Huntleigh took a wrong turn on the path
and was frightened by the noise and crowds. If you would be so kind
as to see to her, Lady Firthley, I have a small bit of business to
attend. I will be back in a trice for champagne, and you mustn’t
leave without me, as I’ve sent my coachman home.”

Alexander looked back and forth between Bella
and the duke and said, “Do you need my help, Wellbridge?”

“That would be most welcome, Firthley, but if
you don’t mind, I would prefer you keep an eye on the ladies for
the time being. I may have more need of your company in the
morning.”

Bella’s head twisted around to stare at him.
“Wellbridge! You can’t—”

He took up her hand and kissed it, smiling
softly, only his eyes betraying his terrible anger. “Never fear, my
sweet. Only a small matter than cannot wait, and I will be back
before long to make sure you arrive home safely.”

“But you’re going to—”

“Going to be back here in no time to finish
the champagne. Lady Firthley, if you would please keep your lovely
cousin from following? I would hate for her to be lost again, in
case there might not be someone nearby to effect a rescue.”

Bella watched Charlotte trade dark looks with
Wellbridge, then with Alexander, in no condition to add one of her
own. “Of course I will. Bella, sit down and stay there, or I will
find a thousand ways to make you regret it. Alexander, give her a
glass of the cherry brandy you think you have hidden in your
jacket.”

Adolphe tapped his toe on the
graveled path and checked his fob watch for the fourth time in ten
minutes. Every time he moved his arm, the red of his costume caused
a start. The last time he had worn colors was before his mother
died when he was but ten-and-six. Totting up the numbers, it had
been almost forty years. Rarely did he feel his age, but since
Michelle’s reappearance it had become a regular occurrence—except
in bed, where she made him feel like an adolescent.

As though his thoughts had summoned her,
Adolphe heard, “
Monseigneur
?”

He turned his head to peer past the trees and
vines effectively hiding him from other couples seeking privacy
only a few feet away. “You are late, Michelle.”

She entered the alcove, looking over her
shoulder to make sure no one saw her. She curtsied when she saw him
and giggled.
“Excusez-moi, Monsieur le Diable
. I think you
will be pleased when you hear why.”

More pleased if she were wearing clothing
appropriate to his mistress, on which he had spent a pretty penny,
not grey twill and a Holland apron like a drudge. But still, there
was something to be said for the memories of Michelle in a
servant’s dress.

He reached out, and holding her by the hair
on the back of her neck, shoved her backward toward the tree where
he had been seducing Lady Huntleigh. Keeping her eyes locked to his
by the painful hold, Adolphe backed her against the ruthless bark
that would leave bruising, if not draw blood. He used his other
hand to undo the buttons of his trousers, then surged forward,
holding her body motionless. Pulling up her skirt, he drew her legs
around his waist, and took her hard, with no warning.

When she gasped, he growled, “Silence,” hand
heavy over her mouth and nose. “Quiet, or I will leave you
wanting.”

She ran her hands and fingers through his
hair until he grasped both her wrists and held them above her head.
Pushing back against him, her mouth, chest, hips undulated,
breathing hitched and ragged, the only sound flesh slapping against
hers. “
Ma bonne fille
,” he whispered in her ear as he took
his hands from her mouth and her arms and used them instead to
heighten her passion. “Such a good girl you are, Michelle.”

When he finished, just after she did, he
barely stopped the moan she dragged from him, more pronounced
because she still followed the instruction to make no sound at all.
His forehead fell against her shoulder; one hand held him upright
against the tree trunk. He dropped her legs, then her skirts, and
tucked himself back into his breeches. She arranged his buttons,
placing a small kiss on the underside of his jaw once they were
closed.

He indulged himself in a long, languid kiss,
whispering, “Ah, Michelle, you make me feel a boy again, all cock
and no intellect.”

“And me, Dofi, I am no longer an old woman
with you near.” She nuzzled her face into his neck, biting his
earlobe and asking, recklessly, “Shall I come to your rooms once
Madame
is sleeping?”

He stepped back and put his hand on her
shoulder, keeping her at arm’s length. “You will come to my rooms
when invited, Michelle, not when you take a fancy.”

“
Oui, Monseigneur
, I am sorry. I did
not mean—”

“Enough,” Adolphe snapped. “What news have
you?”

While he watched the disappointment in her
eyes warring with fear of his censure and the last vestiges of her
pleasure, she sucked in a breath and began.

“The old man’s condition worsens. He has not
risen from his bed in four days, the mind foggy like the Vosges in
winter. He fights his nurses, and they feed him laudanum to calm
him.” She turned her head slightly away, looking out the corner of
her eye to seek his approval. When he smiled, she did, too.

“Have they discovered the source of his
malaise
?”

“
Non, Monseigneur
. The doctors believe
it the same sickness that has always plagued him, and I have been
very careful to keep the dosage small.
Madame
tells them his
symptoms are different, but these English doctors do not take the
word of a woman, and they are all new men since the earl has come
back to London.”

“Good. Very good. You have done very well,
ma chère
.” He pulled her close and kissed her again, letting
the tip of his tongue drift along her jaw to her earlobe, tugging
slightly with his teeth. “What else?”

Her quick gasp, and the attempt to keep
silent, made her speech breathy and threadbare. “The earl has his
solicitors with him often, but—” Adolphe sucked on the spot between
her ear and the nape of her neck that always made her moan, but the
brief vocalization stuttered to a stop almost before it began. She
tried, concurrently, to both twist away and move closer, but he
pulled back while continuing the torment. “The doctor, he says His
Lordship’s judgment can no longer be defended at the Bar.”

He moved closer, allowing their bodies to
touch, opening the high collar of the dingy dress to lick the
hollow at the base of her throat. “That is wonderful news,
ma
petite!
But why is the countess not at his bedside if her
husband is so close to death? When she claims to have only his
concerns in mind?”

“Her husband insisted last week she must
accept any invitations from the king, as he hopes His Majesty will
offer her his protection.”

“What?!” Adolphe pulled back immediately,
steadying her with one hand.

Michelle wrapped both hands around his at her
shoulder, turning her head to kiss his fingertips. “
Non,
Monseigneur
, you misunderstand. I do not mean she will be his
mistress. The king is amused by
Madame
, enjoys her
conversation and the gossip about her, but like most men, finds her
unappealing. Still, he takes an interest in her welfare, and Lord
Huntleigh encourages the alliance.”

“It is good you have told me this.” His other
hand reached to cradle her face in his palm and her head dropped to
the side to embrace the caress. When she relaxed back against the
tree trunk, he allowed her to take his fingers between her lips, to
remind them both of two nights past. “I had no idea the
shopkeeper’s plans reached so high.”

Licking his palm, she continued, “Wellbridge,
too, is great friends with the king, the Carlton House set, and
Lord Huntleigh is a novelty in The Lords. It is my suspicion—only
suspicion, you understand—that these two, and perhaps the king—have
been making arrangements they are withholding from
Madame
.”

He stepped back, disengaging entirely.
“Wellbridge has fallen out of favor. She even refuses to dance with
him.”

Michelle’s palpable desperation followed his
withdrawal, her body arcing toward him, tongue caught between her
teeth, eyes beseeching, only speaking when he made no effort to
appease. “But still, he visits often with the earl, and
Madame’s
cousine
is most informal. It is my opinion—only my opinion, of
course—there is more to him than meets the eye. I would not be
surprised if he planned to offer for her.”

“Absurd.” He turned away, pacing back and
forth in the very small space, staying her touch by sheer force of
will until he saw a tear well up in her eye. “Wellbridge will die a
bachelor. He certainly won’t marry a woman who can’t bear him sons,
and has no other need for one.”

“As you wish,
Monseigneur
. I am only
saying what I observe.”

The hitch in her breath reminded him of the
danger in which she had so willingly placed herself. Were she
discovered as a spy in the Huntleigh household, worse yet, the
murderess of a peer, her freedom, probably her life, would be
forfeit. It would be ironic, considering her role in his sister’s
execution after years as Marie’s lady’s maid, but at the thought of
how barren his life would be should this end at Newgate, a moment
of real grief pierced his heart.

Adolphe stepped back to her, nuzzling against
her throat, breathing in the scent of their coupling, the taste of
his mark on her, arms wrapped around her shoulder and waist,
murmuring softly against her neck, “Of course, my sweet. And you
have done so very well.” He tugged her hair back and kissed her
deeply, wrenching moans from both lovers. “If you can leave the
house unobserved, you may come to me tonight, but be cautious. It
is crucial no one suspect our association.”

“Of course,
Monseigneur
. I
understand,” she gasped, hope and desire flaring in her eyes.

“Go now. I must pay my respects to His
Majesty before I can leave this accursed party.
À bientôt, mon
amour
.”

“
Bonsoir, Monseigneur
.” Michelle
slipped through the trees.