Tonight or Never (33 page)

"My evening could never be spoiled as long as I have you in my arms." He smiled disarmingly back at her.

Chloe's heart sped up. Despite his reputation as a notorious rake, Viscount Sexton never said anything unless he meant it. He had never been an idle flatterer. Chloe had always believed it was part of John's attraction to the women of the ton,
who
were so used to hearing false flattery that they welcomed his straightforward demeanor. They always knew what he wanted.
Sex.

And that was all.

So his tender words had special meaning for Chloe. "That was a very nice thing to say, John." Her violet eyes shone up at him.

"I suppose I must be a glutton for punishment," he added teasingly, kissing the tip of her nose.

Her mouth formed an O. "That's not humorous!"

"No?" He smiled secretly.

Chloe frowned at him, debating whether to step on his toe. The thick boots he wore probably wouldn't let much pain in. She sighed.

"May I cut in?" Sir Percy smiled at the couple, holding out his hand for Chloe.

Reluctantly, John handed her over to Sir Cecil-Basil.

As Chloe took the fop's hand, the edge of her finger scraped against one of the many rings he wore.

"My apologies, Lady Sexton."

"It was my fault, Percy, I—Look! The ring opens." Chloe took his hand between her own to have a closer look at the intricate ring.

The ornate domed top was cleverly hinged. The inside revealed an elaborate design. The ring appeared to double as a seal of some kind.

John, standing next to them, bent over curiously to have a look as well.

Percy stiffened slightly.

" '
Tis
beautiful," Chloe remarked. "What is this here? It appears to be a flower of some kind, draped in a dark cloth."

"It is a pimpernel, my lady—the cartouche of my family."

John stilled.
A pimpernel.
. . Part of the primrose family. Dark cloth…
The Black Rose
!

Stunned, he gazed up from the ring, meeting Percy's light blue eyes dead on.

They stared at each other in silence.

Percy looked away first, closing the ring with a snap.

"Oh, damn and blast, John!" Chloe captured his attention. "It's that obnoxious Lord
Snellsdon
!" Her lower lip pouted in disgust. "What is he doing here?"

"I have no idea," John murmured, distracted for the time being from his momentous discovery.

Lord
Snellsdon
approached them. A man who had accompanied him to the ball walked alongside him.

"I don't believe it," Chloe said in a hiss.
"Of all the gall!
To bring that man into my house!"

John didn't recognize the guest with
Snellsdon
, but Percy apparently did, for he stiffened at his side.

Lord
Snellsdon
greeted his hosts. "Good evening, Lord and Lady Sexton; Sir Cecil-Basil. Lovely party… Allow me to introduce a friend of mine; this is Citizen
Malleaux
."

"I know Citizen
Malleaux
," Chloe rejoined coldly.

John had never seen his wife behave so rudely. He didn't know the man, but by the look of him it wasn't hard to figure out his wife's reaction. There was something about him that was downright chilling. John nodded curtly to him.
"
Malleaux
."

"A pleasure, your lordship," the man responded in a sibilant tone.

"Sink me
! '
Tis
an ambassador!"
Percy made a great show of bowing before whispering very loudly so half the room heard him, "Mustn't wear that drab brown—too plebeian, my man."

The surrounding guests who had overheard his remark snickered at
Malleaux's
expense.

Malleaux
bristled at the expert set-down. Fortunately, someone waved at
Snellsdon
and the two men moved off into the crowd.

Chloe fumed. "
Grandmere
will be furious."

"Who is he?" John asked quietly.

"He is the henchman of Robespierre," Percy informed him. "They say he is personally responsible for sending thousands to the guillotine. He is a butcher in the guise of a diplomat."

John's eyes met Sir Cecil-Basil's. "I see."

"How dare he show his face
here!
" Chloe's fists clenched. Half of their guests had narrowly escaped this man's form of justice.

Percy took out his scented handkerchief, fluttering it in the air as if to disperse the man's noxious effluvium. "Let's hope no one takes it into their heads to execute
him
tonight. John certainly doesn't want to be forced to deal with an international incident. Besides, '
twould
ruin the supper collation if his head rolled into the pudding, what?"

Percy's attempt at humor helped to lighten Chloe's mood. She laughed softly. "You are one of a kind, Percy."

"I daresay." He held out his hand to her for their dance.

John took the opportunity to signal to the orchestra to strike up a minuet. The dance, with its short steps, was his way of paying homage to the French refugees who sought asylum in his home. The aristocracy had vowed to keep the dance alive.

Chloe flashed her husband an expression of gratitude, her eyes shining.

As the two of them entered the dance, John scanned the hall for
Malleaux
. He spotted him over by the punch bowl. His beady eyes were scouring every guest in the house.

By the fierce glower of distaste on the man's face, it was safe to assume he was not happy with the choice of music. The minuet was an affront to the new regime.

Thoughtfully, John glanced at his wife, dancing with Sir Percy.

The criminal he was harboring in his home.

The ex-pirate and God knew what else.

The man who was the Black Rose.

It was a tense table at the supper banquet.

Somehow Lord
Snellsdon
and his guest had managed to secure seats for themselves at the head table.

Chloe suspected the odious
Malleaux
of sneaking into the hall and switching place cards. She also suspected he had a very compelling reason for attending their party that evening.

The new French regime was being made a fool of by the Black Rose.

Malleaux
undoubtedly was dispatched to find and capture the criminal of the people's government. The fact that many of the rescued had ended up at
Chacun
à
Son
Goût
would naturally lead the man here in his investigation.

John tried to lighten the mood by engaging in pleasant conversation with the
Cyndreacs
, all of whom were scowling on their side of the table, throwing murderous glances at
Malleaux
. John did not know that the man had been responsible for stealing their heritage.

It was rumored that
Malleaux
now lived at the
Cyndreac
estate, having appropriated it for the state. Many believed he had signed the boys' death warrants simply because he coveted the choice location of their home.

All of the brothers wanted to throttle the man with their bare hands. Every now and then one of the
Cyndreacs
would almost
bound
out of his chair to do the deed. A stern look from Maurice
Chavaneau
was the only thing that kept them in their chairs.

"Have you heard that Lord
Iversly
is having a
sheepshearing
next week? I am terribly excited about it. Just
think,
all those lovely little balls of wool." Percy gave a heartfelt sigh. "There must be a place in heaven for sheep."

John almost choked on his drink. "Why?" He didn't even know why he bothered to ask, except for the fact that the inquiry had slipped out before he could stop himself.

"Oh! Think of all the garments to be created from the dear little buggers. When one thinks about it, they are the cornerstone of fashion."

John rolled his eyes and tried not to burst out laughing. Now that he knew…

"Aren't you going, John?"

"I think not," he replied drolly.

"Yes, well, no need to, what? One can see his lordship has already been clipped."

Percy's comment caused a round of laughter at the table.

"What do you mean by that?" John scowled.

Percy simply sipped his wine, a smile playing about his lips.

John turned to Chloe. "What does he mean by that?"

Chloe shrugged, her focus shifting nonchalantly to the wall.

"I shall be attending,"
Snellsdon
offered, though no one had asked.

"What about you,
Malleaux
?" Percy fluttered his handkerchief in the air as he had done previously and winked at Chloe.

"To some, there are more important things to attend to than
sheepshearing
." He sneered at the fop.

"Really?"
Percy stared at him agog. "Like what?"

"I would not expect one such as
you
to understand, Sir Cecil-Basil, but the Black Rose is what interests me."

Well, now we have it out in the open, John thought.

"He interests everyone!" Percy waved his
beringed
hand.
Flaunted it, almost.
Right under
Malleaux's
hooked nose.
"Such a dashing fellow."

John coughed.

"I've written a poem about him—would you like to hear it?"

"Not really."
Malleaux
swallowed a hunk of pork pie.

"Oh." Percy made a moue with his mouth.

John's lips twitched.
He is good
.

"So what interests you about the Black Rose,
Malleaux
?" Maurice asked somberly.

"I seek him, of course—to bring him to justice."

"Whose justice?"
The Countess de
Fonbeaulard
was seething that this man was at their table.

"The justice of France, madam," he answered, refusing to use her title.

Maurice stared the man down. "He keeps you up at night, hmm?"

Malleaux
reddened. "I will find him and he will die; it is not a difficult equation. Such men usually make mistakes at some point. When he does, I will be there."

"Do you have any suspects?" Chloe wanted to know, so she might be able to warn the man.

"Yes, I do." He took an irritatingly slow sip of wine.
"A few suspects."
He turned and pierced the
Cyndreacs
with intense scrutiny.

They all returned bland faces to him.

"Seven brothers… yet six were taken. Now we have seven again.
An amusing conundrum.
No one seems to know which brother was not taken."

The
Cyndreacs
remained silent.
Malleaux
turned to the marquis. "And you, monsieur—a little old to be playing hero, but perhaps you see a need to liberate your friends from their just punishment."

"Their just punishment?"
Maurice sneered.
"For what?
The crime of being born into families that trace their lineage back centuries?"

Malleaux
ignored Maurice's distaste for him and his regime.

"He might be English," he continued, "which matters naught if he is caught on French soil, or somehow finds himself there."

The implied threat was there.
Malleaux
would kidnap such a man if he had to, simply to render what he considered justice.

"An Englishman?"
Chloe wondered about that herself.

"Yes. Take our host, for instance." He focused his malevolence on John.

The green eyes of Lord Sexton coolly returned his look.

"The viscount has a reputation for being daring; he has been known to laugh in the face of convention; and he has repeatedly flaunted authoritarian mores. He is an excellent rider, an accomplished swordsman and, by all accounts, a crack shot. His escapades with the gentler sex are known even in
France."

John raised his eyebrows. "Thank you," he murmured. The table laughed.

Unperturbed,
Malleaux
continued, "His wife is half-French; his uncle is French. One might draw a conclusion from that."

"And what would that conclusion be?" John helped himself to a slice of beef.

"That you feel a responsibility to them. Your background is well known, Lord Sexton."