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Authors: Connie Mason

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BOOK: The Price of Pleasure
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Fleur wasn’t about to explain that. What she did or didn’t do was no one’s business but hers. “Are you questioning my reputation, Count?”

“Forgive me, Countess. I was deeply hurt and spoke out of turn.”

“You are forgiven.”

“Do you and Hunthurst plan to attend the Ogleton ball tonight?” Barbeau asked.

“That is our intention,” Fleur replied.

Barbeau bowed. “Then we shall see you there. Congratulations on your engagement. I shall extend my good wishes to Hunthurst tonight. Come along, René. Let us leave the ladies to their exercise.”

Dubois stared intently at Fleur before bowing. Fleur bobbed a curtsy to both men. A shiver ran down her spine as she watched them leave. Warning bells went off in her head, but which man should she be wary of? Common sense told her it was Dubois, but every instinct she possessed told her both men bore watching.

“What was that all about?” Lisette asked, catching up with her.

“Duvall told them about my engagement to Reed. Dubois didn’t take it well. He was courting me, you see.”

“Do you think he’s a French spy?”

“Time will tell, although Reed believes it is one of Lord Porter’s agents. If we don’t solve this mystery soon, I fear for Reed’s life. He’s had several close calls already. He might not be so lucky next time.”

“You think there will be a next time?”

“I sincerely hope not.”

Reed appeared at the townhouse at promptly nine o’clock that night. He stood at the bottom of the stairs to await Fleur. She didn’t keep him there long. His breath caught in his throat as she floated down the stairs toward him. She was a vision in violet silk trimmed with purple ribbon. The empire waistline, outlined with deep purple ribbon, fit snugly beneath her breasts and skimmed her shapely hips. Violet gloves covered her arms from fingertips to elbows.

“You’re beautiful,” Reed said, kissing her hands. “Every man at the ball will be envious of me.”

“Not with all the young debs in attendance to distract them.”

Updike appeared with a deep purple shawl and draped it around Fleur’s shoulders.

“Don’t wait up for us, Updike. We’ll let ourselves in. And tell Fleur’s maid she won’t be needed tonight,” Reed called over his shoulder as he ushered Fleur out the door and into his carriage.

“Did you make any progress today?” she asked once they were settled in the carriage.

“The men assigned to investigate Dempsey haven’t reported their findings yet. I spoke with Porter again, but he refuses to believe one of his trusted men has turned traitor.”

“I ran into Dubois and Barbeau in the park today,” Fleur confided. “Duvall had already told them about our engagement and . . . well, you can imagine what else he said. Dubois seemed quite put out, but Barbeau didn’t appear affected by the news. I must confess that I got the strangest feeling when we parted company.”

“Stay away from them, Fleur. At this point we can’t trust anyone.”

When they arrived at the Ogleton’s mansion, they had to wait in line before they could exit but finally the coachman let down the steps and opened the door. Reed stepped out first and handed Fleur down.

“It’s going to be a crush,” Fleur said.

“Unfortunately, yes. I wonder if Grandmamma will be here. She usually doesn’t like venturing out at night.”

“It’s safe to say that Helen and Violet will be attending, accompanied by the ever-present Duvall.”

Amusement colored Reed’s words. “Who would think a second cousin twice removed, and a Frenchman at that, would be sniffing after Helen’s skirts like a puppy dog?”

“Maybe he has true feelings for her,” Fleur suggested.

The noisy crowd went silent when they reached the ballroom and were announced by a footman. All eyes turned in their direction. Fleur wanted to melt into the woodwork but somehow found the courage to raise her chin and smile. The buzz of conversation resumed as the crowd’s attention turned elsewhere.

“Well, that’s over,” Reed whispered as they progressed into the room and Reed steered them toward a group of acquaintances. Introductions were made all around. Fleur followed the conversation but remained quiet and watchful.

“The next set is forming on the dance floor,” Reed said. “Shall we join them?”

Since no public announcement of their engagement had been made, no one offered congratulations, though Fleur could tell by the covert glances and whispers that speculation was rife. It appeared the rumor mill had been busy grinding out gossip from one end of London to the other.

During the progression of the dance, Fleur spotted Dubois, Barbeau and Henry Dempsey. “What is Dempsey doing here?” she whispered when the dance steps brought them together again.

“Dempsey has connections, even though he lacks a title. I had the same connections before I came into my title.”

“Did you notice the large number of émigrés in attendance?”

“It’s all the rage now to invite émigrés to society events. Some came away from France with their fortunes intact and are being actively courted by the
ton
.”

“Helen and Violet have just arrived,” Fleur hissed. “Duvall is with them.”

The sisters, trailed by Duvall, forged into the crowd. They tittered and gossiped behind their fans with each group they encountered during their progression.

“They’re talking about us,” Fleur whispered.

“Let them. Hold your head high; you’ve nothing to be ashamed of.” The set ended, and they walked off the dance floor. “I’m parched, would you like something to drink?”

“Lemonade sounds wonderful. I’ll visit the ladies’ retiring room while you fetch our drinks.”

“I’ll be waiting for you beside the bust of Caesar. I don’t want to lose you in the crowd.”

Fleur located the meeting place and nodded. Reed soon disappeared into the crowd. Fleur realized she didn’t know where the ladies retiring room was located and asked a footman. He directed her to the foyer and down a long hallway. When Fleur noticed Violet advancing toward her, she thanked the footman and hurried off. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that Violet continued to close in on her. Not wanting to be cornered by her rival in the retiring room, Fleur ducked into the first door she came to. The room appeared to be a library. Light from a single candle barely illuminated the book-lined walls.

A breeze touched her cheek, and Fleur moved toward the open window to cool off. She intended to give Violet a decent amount of time before leaving the library and continuing on to the retiring room. She had no desire to run into Violet any time soon. The sound of male voices conversing in French wafted through the open window. Curious, Fleur flattened herself against the wall beside the drapery and eavesdropped on the conversation.

Apparently the men were standing right below the window for she heard their words clearly, even though they spoke in furtive whispers.

“We can wait no longer; he has to die.” Fleur had to prevent herself from gasping. Were they talking about Reed?

“The man has more lives than a cat,” the second man growled. “What is to be done about the countess?”

“If she gets in the way, she dies too.”

“I agree. The woman deserves to die for her interference. He should have died in Devil’s Chateau.”

“We need to discuss plans for his demise, but not here. It’s too public. Meet me tomorrow at our usual rendezvous. By this time next week, Hunthurst will be history.”

Fleur began to shake. They
were
talking about Reed.Who were they? Did she dare look out the window? When the voices began drifting away, Fleur waited a few breathless minutes before peeking out the window. She saw . . .

Nothing.

The men had slipped away into the darkness.

Mouth dry, heart pounding, Fleur remained frozen in place, unable to move, unable to think. She had just heard two Frenchmen plan Reed’s death, but her mind and body refused to function. Finally her inertia gave way to terror. She had to find Reed.

She moved on wooden legs to the door. Her hands were sweating so profusely it took several tries before the knob turned. As luck would have it, she ran into Violet in the hallway.

“I wondered where you disappeared to,” Violet snarled. “Is Reed in there with you?”

“No, I was by myself, not that it’s any concern of yours. I needed a moment alone,” Fleur had the presence of mind to say. “Is there something you want of me?”

“Indeed. I’m quite aware that you set your cap for Reed. You stole him from me. Everyone knows that you worked as a spy in France. I told all my friends about you. You’ll never be accepted among the
ton
. Women of your ilk have no place in Society.”

“I beg to differ,” Reed said from behind Fleur.

Fleur’s knees nearly buckled in relief. Reed was safe. They hadn’t gotten to him yet.

“Fleur will soon become my wife,” Reed said. “Grandmamma has influence, and she will see that Fleur is accepted by Society.”

“I don’t care about Society,” Fleur huffed, anxious to whisk Reed off to safety. She began pulling him away. “My head hurts. I’d like to leave.”

Reed stared at her. “We’ll miss the midnight supper. Are you sure you want to leave?”

“Of course she wants to leave,” Violet observed. “The gossips are having a field day at her expense. Only one kind of woman has the audacity to become a spy.”

“A courageous one,” Reed drawled.

Fleur tugged his sleeve. “Please, Reed, I want to leave.”

Reed knew something was amiss from Fleur’s expression. She looked upset, no, more than upset. She looked terrified. If Violet had done this to her, he would make sure the blasted woman suffered the consequences.

“Very well, we’ll leave.” He placed a hand in the middle of Fleur’s back and guided her along the hallway to the foyer. He sent a footman for her wrap and another to fetch his carriage.

As luck would have it, Dempsey encountered them in the foyer. “Leaving already?”

“Fleur has a headache,” Reed answered.

“I had hoped to find a moment alone with you,” Dempsey said. “I’ve stumbled upon a man who claims to know the name of our traitor. Can we meet somewhere tomorrow?”

“Ten o’clock, Porter’s office.”

Dempsey shook his head. “No, that won’t do. I’m not ready to reveal my source to our illustrious leader. He could ruin everything.”

“Very well; tell me where and when.”

“My source will only meet with us if it’s a place of his own choosing. Are you familiar with the Crow’s Nest near the docks?”

“I know it. Are you sure he wants to meet there? The place has an unsavory reputation.”

“Do you want this information or not?”

“Don’t go!” Fleur pleaded. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

“Women!” Dempsey laughed. “They’re afraid of their own shadow.”

Reed studied Fleur’s face, recognized her anxiety and forced himself to ignore it. “What time?”

“Ten o’clock tomorrow night. I’ll set everything up. My contact expects to be paid for his information, so don’t come empty handed.”

Reed nodded grimly. “I’ll be there.”

Nodding curtly, Dempsey retraced his steps to the ballroom. Reed took Fleur’s wrap from the footman and placed it around her shoulders. Then he guided her through the door and into the carriage.

“All right, Fleur, what is this about?” Reed asked once they were seated. “You don’t have a headache, do you?”

“I do now,” Fleur replied. “You can’t meet Dempsey tomorrow, Reed. It could be a trap.”

“Do you know something I don’t?”

“Before I tell you, answer me this. Does Dempsey speak fluent French?”

“Of course he does. Only men fluent in French are sent to the Continent. Why do you ask?”

Fleur clutched Reed’s sleeve. He stared into her eyes and frowned. “You’re frightened! Tell me what’s upset you. Did someone try to intimidate you? Was it Violet?”

“Violet followed me to the ladies’ retiring room.”

“Bloody hell,” Reed bit out.

“No, this isn’t about Violet. I wanted to avoid a confrontation with her, so I slipped into the library. The window was open, and I moved toward it to cool off. A conversation taking place outside the window drew my attention, and I stepped closer to eavesdrop. They were speaking in French.”

Her hand tightened on his sleeve. Reed peeled her clenched fist away and held it between his hands. “What did they say that frightened you so?”

“They were planning your death.”

Reed went still. “Are you sure? Absolutely sure?”

“I know what I heard, Reed. I understand and speak French fluently.”

“Did you get a look at them?”

“No, I was afraid to show myself in the window. I didn’t look until the men stopped talking. By then they had dis appeared into the darkness.”

“Did you recognize the voices?”

“No, and that’s what frightens me so.” A sob caught in her throat. “Don’t you understand? Those men want you dead!”

Reed remained calm despite Fleur’s panic. “Did they say why they wanted me dead?”

BOOK: The Price of Pleasure
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