The Seducer (24 page)

“What is it you want, darling?”

“I came here to visit my father’s home.”

Daniel’s expression fell.

The chevalier pursed his mouth and rose. “I will leave you alone.”

She stood aside so that he could pass, then went over to Daniel. He had turned his gaze out the window, to the woods and meadow rolling down the back hill.

“Do not do that,” she said, her hand still clutching the letter. “Do not ignore me in that way. Not now.”

He looked back. She saw his expression and knew that he felt as she did, and that he also wished this day had never come.

“I am not ignoring you. I have never ignored you. You have never once been in my presence when I was not totally and completely aware of you, even when you were young and I wished I could block you out.”

He reached for her but she stepped back. With a sigh, he let his hand drop. “How do you know this was your father’s home?”

She opened her hand to show the crushed letter. “My grandfather wrote to me, in response to my letter to him. He was not going to. He does not even know who I am, but I do now. He explained enough for me to understand it.”

“What did he explain that has you so distressed?”

“That he had a daughter who died in childbirth. That she had not been married to the father of the baby. That the father took the child into his care, at a house that he owned in Hampstead.”

Her voice was rising. The words poured out, madly.

“That the man who had seduced his daughter was in shipping, but was ruined over a dozen years ago, and that he and the child disappeared.”

Daniel watched her, waiting.

“That the man’s name was Jonathan. Jonathan
Makepeace.
Not Jonathan Albret, as you let me believe. Albret was my
mother’s
name.” The inner agitation got the better of her. She wanted to hit him, pound him. She threw the letter at him instead. It bounced off his face and onto the floor. “You deceived me. You let me look for his family without even knowing his right name.”

“Yes, I deceived you.” He rose and came to her.

“Do not touch me.” She paced away, around him. She swung her arm at the chamber and everything beyond. “How did you come to have this place?”

“I came to have it because of a night of cards.”

“You got it through gambling?”

“I was very young and Jonathan just assumed he would win. It started out simply, and grew.”

“As it did with Andrew Tyndale?”

“Much the same. By the end I was far ahead. Your father was a reckless man. He bet everything he had left—his two ships, his London house and this one—on one cut of the cards against everything I had won.”

“I have been living in my father’s house in London too?”

“No. I sold that one and bought another some years later.”

“And you let him do this? Let him bet everything?”

His lids lowered. Darkness flashed. For a moment, he was the Devil Man again. “Oh, yes.”

“No wonder you made your fortune so quickly. You stole it from another man. You took everything from him that night! That is how you got your first ships, isn’t it?”

“That is how I got my first ships.”

“How could you do that? Ruin him like that. You did not have to agree to that last bet.”

“I was glad to agree to it. I did not like your father. In fact, I despised him. He had a weakness for gambling and that is what ruined him, not me.”

She could not believe the way he said it. Flatly. Coldly. “You astonish me. You destroyed his life and ruined mine, but you have no remorse. None at all.”

“I have no remorse for him. I regret that an innocent was hurt. The way it affected you was an unfortunate consequence.”

“
An unfortunate consequence!
That is a neat way to put it, Daniel.”

He stepped forward, to block her pacing. His hands closed on her arms and he looked down at her. “I knew nothing about you. He was not married; he had no family. I did not know there was a daughter until I saw you.”

Something in the way he looked made her wary. There was a softness in his expression, and real regret, but not for the past. It was the way he had looked that day in the carriage on the way to the Tuileries, when she had demanded information.

She opened her mouth to speak, but the question forming stuck in her throat. She knew in her heart that she would not want to hear the answer. “How did you come to have
me
?”

“The last bet included this property, and everything on it. When I arrived to take possession, I found you here.”

The devastating truth hammered away at her composure. Her father had abandoned her. Walked away and left her to fate’s whims.

She should probably be grateful that Daniel had not foisted her off on the local parish. Perhaps one day she would be. Right now the devastation was getting so vast that there was no room for gratitude, or for anything except a hundred questions.

Some of those questions prodded insistently. “Why did you deceive me? Why not just tell me this in Paris? I do not think it was to spare me the pain. If you let me think he had another name, if you let me ask for information on the wrong man, you must have had a good reason.”

He walked away and faced the window. Not ignoring her. She could tell that, despite his gaze on the hill beyond, his mind was completely with her.

Her anger rose, as if to form a shield against the blow that her soul knew was coming.

“It was not in my interest to have anyone realize that you are Jonathan Makepeace’s daughter.”

“Why?” It came out a frustrated yell.

He turned. “Because Jonathan was an old friend of Andrew Tyndale, and I did not want Tyndale to know that I had met Jonathan, ever. I did not want Tyndale to know who you are, and surmise there was a connection to that night of cards all those years ago.”

The admission only confused her more. Her head swam with bits and pieces of things, with impressions and words all jumbled together.

She crossed her arms over her chest, to hold herself together. “The duel. You said it was not only about me. You said Jeanette would not object because she knew the whole story.”

Her heart screamed with silent yells, some accusatory, others beseeching. “Was it your plan from the start, to find a way to challenge Tyndale? Not really because of me, but for other reasons? Is that why you did not want him to know of my connection to Jonathan? Daniel, did you bring me to London and make me a lady to lure Tyndale into that duel?”

She caught a glimpse of the answer in his expression. Then his face blurred as stinging tears overflowed from her eyes.

“It was my plan at first, Diane, but I could not do it in the end. That it turned out that way after all was not my intention.”

He had not only deceived her. He had intended to use her.

She could not bear it. She could not stay to hear more.

Crying so hard that she could not see, she stumbled from the chamber and ran out to the coach. Daniel’s voice followed, calling her name.

chapter
23

T
he ragged man was following him again.

Gustave glanced back. It was the same thief whom Adrian had pointed out, the one with the beard. The man seemed to loiter around the district where Gustave had taken his rooms. No doubt Adrian had been correct, and this was a pickpocket who preyed upon the men of business and law who walked these streets. He must have recognized the foreign cut of Gustave’s coat and decided he would be easy pickings eventually.

It was unnerving to feel one was being watched. Gustave did not like the notion that there had been times when this man may have been following him and he had not been aware of it.

Perhaps this thief even knew about the shed across the water.

The thought appalled him. That could be disastrous.

Enough was enough. He would let this thief know that he had been noticed, and that it was time to shadow some less astute man.

Gustave slowed to a stroll. He finally stopped to examine the books outside a printer’s shop. From the corner of his eye he saw that the thief did not move on, but merely paused and waited. That was bold.

Annoyed, Gustave walked rapidly. He put some space between himself and the man, and entered a coffeehouse. Taking a table near the window, he watched as the man came into view and walked by.

And turned and entered the coffeehouse too.

And walked over and sat at Gustave’s table.

Really, it was too much.

“If you expect me to pay you to leave me alone, you have misjudged your prey, m’sieur.” Gustave spoke angrily, only realizing at the end that he had spoken French and this criminal would never understand. He trusted that his tone conveyed the message well enough, however.

The man smiled and removed his hat. “I thought that it was time we spoke.”

To Gustave’s amazement, the reply came in French as well.

“I seriously doubt that you and I have anything to speak of.”

“We have much to speak of. For example, we can speak of how you are being led to the slaughter.”

“See here—”

“No, you see here. Right here.” He pointed at his eyes.

Puzzled, Gustave peered closely at the man’s eyes. A jolt of astonishment made him dizzy. “My God, it is you! But you are dead!”

“Not dead. Just buried for a long time in drink and stinking poverty.”

“This is such a shock. . . . What do you mean I am being led to the slaughter?”

“You are being used. You will be ruined.” He leaned across the table. “First me, then Hercule, now you. Lured to ruin, one by one.”

“How preposterous. I am not being lured to anything.”

“Aren’t you? Then why are you in England?”

Gustave looked down his nose. “That is my affair alone.”

“Yours alone? No one else is involved in your affair?”

Gustave shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. “You were not lured to ruin. Your character brought you to it, as did Hercule’s. You always wanted easy wealth, and he always wanted glory.”

“And what have you always wanted, Dupré? Are you in England seeking it now?”

A stab of concern made Gustave shift again. “Of course not.”

“Then I am mistaken. I am just a man too fond of spirits, who has seen schemes that don’t exist.” He rose. “And to think that I came all this way to warn an old friend. Had to stow away under a stack of canvases to cross.”

That concern pricked again, ruining Gustave’s contentment that this ghost was departing.

“Wait. Sit. Have some coffee. Tell me what scheme you see.”

They waited until the coffee came, and the ragged man called for some cakes and let Gustave pay for them.

“Speak,” Gustave demanded, getting suspicious that he was being fleeced for a free meal.

“When I lost everything, I fled to the Continent. There were debts in England— Well, it is an old story. I lived in Naples. One day over two years ago, right after Napoleon went to Elba, I was at the docks and I saw one of my ships. Oh, it had been changed somewhat over the years, but I knew it.”

“So you saw the ship. What of it?”

“I lost the ship to Edward St. Clair. The ship was now owned by the same person, only older and with a different name. Daniel St. John.”

Gustave startled.

“When I made my way to France, I heard about poor Hercule. Strange that a private confidence to an English officer became public knowledge.”

“And you think that St. John—”

“He often dined with the officers in that regiment. I think that this one, when in his cups, was indiscreet. Odd to learn of that connection between St. John and the officer. That is what got me thinking.”

“I am sure that you are building castles out of air. It is too much a coincidence. You and Hercule—it was years apart.”

“Perhaps. But I ask you this—are you a coincidence too? You are in England suddenly, very busy with something. Have you ever met this St. John, or St. Clair, or whatever his name is?”

Gustave’s mouth felt peculiar. Too moist.

“Is your current affair connected to a meeting with St. John?”

Gustave swallowed. “If you are right, why?”

“Me, Hercule, and now you. There are only two explanations. At first, I thought St. John was someone who knew about our connection, from when we were young. However, I wonder now if he merely is an agent for someone who does.”

“An agent? It is a long time to be an agent.”

“Not if he works for someone with power. Someone who can be his patron. This St. John has had great success. He is well received here in England.”

“But who?”

“Someone, perhaps, who would prefer that our association to him was buried with our fortunes and reputations. Someone with ambitions, who would not like the world to know about certain things that happened long ago.”

Gustave was sipping some coffee as the implication hit him. Suddenly his stomach felt sour.

“Tell me Dupré, have you had any dealings here in England with Tyndale? Is that little shed you visit across the river his shed too?”

“Shed? What shed? You are mistak—”

“The reason I ask is this: St. John has had dealings with Tyndale recently, and St. John knows about that shed. I know because I saw him there one day.”

Diane found herself adrift as she had never been before. She experienced the rootless, aimless existence that she had always feared. She had left the school, trusting that the truth would spare her from such a life. Instead, the truth had thrust her into it.

She never returned to Daniel’s house. Instead, she directed the coach to a street where she changed to a hired vehicle, and took that one to Margot’s house. The next day she sent for a trunk of practical clothing, and instructed Margot’s servant to refuse to say where the trunk was going. She did not want Daniel knowing where she was yet, although she sent a letter assuring Jeanette that she was safe. On learning that she had left Daniel, Margot left her to heal and plan.

She was not ready to do either. A horrible ache numbed and distracted her. It was as if the void had returned and come alive and taken over her body and spirit. She veered from anger to desolation to wrenching disappointment. She saw her time with Daniel, every detail, over and over in her mind, despite her efforts not to think of him at all.

Beneath the heartbreaking anguish there flowed another emotion, just as devastating. A longing for things to have been different. A wistful regret that even her memories of gentle intimacy had been ruined.

She did not accompany Margot to parties and calls. When Margot entertained, Diane remained in her own room. She did not belong in Margot’s world. She did not belong in any world.

All the same, one of those worlds found her in the other.

Three days after she had received the vicar’s letter, Margot hosted a party. Diane remained out of sight, but late in the evening she slipped down to the kitchen to make herself some tea. In the corridor outside the chamber where Margot’s little party played cards, she almost walked right into Vergil Duclairc.

He was very surprised to see her, and a bit chagrined that she had seen him. Before he quickly closed the door on the party, she glimpsed the face of a certain opera singer.

“So, you are here. St. John is—well, your husband is distraught. He visited my sister at once, looking for you.”

Which was why she had not gone to Pen. “He knows I am safe.”

Vergil managed to look both strict and kind at the same time. “This will not do. You know that.”

“It is not so rare. Pen—”

“Pen’s husband is a scoundrel of the worst order.”

“Perhaps mine is as well.”

“That is not true. I know St. John and—”

“I think that you and I are too young to ever
know
a man like St. John. Now, please allow me to pass. You are interfering, as men are wont to do.”

He glanced to the chamber door, behind which Margot and her friends laughed and played. “You cannot stay in this woman’s home. It is not proper, and you do not belong here.”

“I do not belong anywhere. At least here there are not friends of my husband scolding me every day. It is my misfortune that your paramour made Margot’s acquaintance or I might have been spared any scolds at all.”

At mention of his opera singer, he reluctantly stepped aside.

“I ask that you do not tell St. John where I am.”

He said nothing, which meant that he would indeed tell Daniel.

She did not sleep that night. Her mind played over the confrontation that was coming. She did not know what she would say to him.

Early the next morning, well before calling hours, a visitor was announced for her. Not Daniel. A lady had called, but no name was given. Expecting that Vergil had sent the countess to cajole her, Diane left her chamber and went to the sitting room.

She arrived just as a very large man was placing a veiled woman in a chair. Jeanette peeled back the veil and gestured for Paul to leave.

Diane bent and kissed her. “I am astonished to see you here, Jeanette.”

“
I
am astonished to see
you
here, in the home of a courtesan.”

“I could hardly go to the countess. She has enough trouble without it being known that she gave refuge to a woman who has left her husband. People will say that she is forming a Society for Disobedient Wives.”

Jeanette did not find the little joke amusing. “You should be with your husband, not here and not with the countess.”

“Jeanette—”

“Sit.”

It sounded much like Madame Leblanc’s command that last day in the school. Diane obeyed.

“What was in that letter that you read in the garden the other day? What evil was written to you, to make you abandon my brother?” Jeanette demanded.

“It was not evil. The man who wrote it did not know the meaning of its contents for me. He assumed he was merely explaining that I was wrong to think he and I had a relationship. I will not tell you what it said. I do not want to speak badly of Daniel to you.”

“You want to spare me? That is charming. There is nothing that you could tell me about my brother that would surprise me. No, I am wrong there. The affection he feels for you, the changes it has made—I suspect that you have known a side of him that I never will. Now, tell me what you have learned about the other side, the one that I know very well.”

Diane described the contents of the letter and the evidence of Daniel’s deception. She explained the revelations learned during their confrontation at Hampstead.

Jeanette appeared unsurprised by the story. “Yes, you were to be a lure. Blame me as well as him. I did not stop it, and I aided him. He at no time intended for you to be harmed, nor would you have been. It was perfect. You were perfect. Tyndale likes girls young, refined, and innocent. He has an unhealthy weakness for them that he dare not satisfy with the daughters of his own class. He would not be so constrained with the cousin of a shipper. It unfolded just as Daniel had foreseen, except for one snag.”

“What was that?” The confirmation that Jeanette had known all along only made Diane’s sick heart sicker.

“My brother fell in love with you.”

“I do not believe that. I think that he concluded that the plan would work even better if eventually Tyndale importuned a
wife,
and not only a cousin. I think the plan was not over yet. I think, having been forced to stand down because of what happened with me that night, he found another way to eventually have it happen anyway.” The words poured out from the saddest place in her heart.

“What nonsense.” Jeanette waved the notion away. “If my brother was so lacking in honor, he would not have upheld the bargain he made with you.”

Diane bit her tongue before she could blurt out that Jeanette herself had not expected Daniel to uphold that bargain and be honorable.

“He did not explain why he wanted a way to get to Tyndale, did he?”

“I did not want to hear it.”

“It does not matter. He would have never embarrassed me by revealing that tale. I think that is why he did not come here last night to bring you home, after learning where you were. However, I can tell you the part he never would.”