Wilde, Jennifer (52 page)

"Yes."

"Velvet
gown. Diamonds. Quite well."

"So
you're the man with the scar."

"I
got this in Jamaica over a year ago. There was an altercation over a load of
goods."

"What
happened to the man who gave it to you?"

"He
died."

I
was as cool, as poised as I had ever been in my life, but I knew the numbness
would wear off soon now, knew violent emotions would begin to stir inside. I
had to hold them at bay, had to maintain the poise at all costs. I knew it was
my only defense.

"Rawlins
Palace," he said. "Jeff Rawlins. I should have made the connection.
I've only been working this end for three weeks now. Before I was in
Jamaica."

"You
lost the plantation," I said.

"Three
months after you left, I had to sell out."

"I'm
sorry to hear that, Derek."

"It's
just as well. The place was a losing proposition from the first. There're
easier ways of making money."

"Like
smuggling," I said.

"Lots
of money in smuggling," he replied. "I've made a small fortune. In
six weeks or so I'll be giving all this up. I'll be leaving for England to
settle matters there."

The
men came back out and moved past us on their way to fetch the other two cases.
The horses stamped restlessly in the alley, and one of the men cursed as he
heaved a case up into his arms. Bottles rattled. The men came back through the
gate, casting long shadows over the silver tiles as they moved past us toward
the building.

"At
the moment I have rooms here in the city," Derek continued. "The apartment
belongs to Valjean. He's letting me use it while he's in Martinique. It's quite
near here, as a matter of fact."

I
was silent. Derek continued to study me.

"You're
as beautiful as I remember."

His
voice was flat. It was a statement, not a compliment. His face was all planes
and angles in the moonlight, the scar a thin, jagged line running from his left
temple to the corner of his mouth. It added a sinister touch and, strangely
enough, enhanced his looks, an imperfection that made the rest seem all the
more attractive. His eyes revealed nothing.

"So
you're still with Rawlins," he said. "He didn't sell you to one of
the brothels."

"He's
been very good to me."

"I've
thought about you, Marietta."

"Have
you?"

"You've
been on my conscience all these years. I acted in a moment of anger. I
regretted it bitterly later on. When I thought about what I had done to you, I
was filled with remorse."

"You
needn't have worried. As you can see, it worked out very nicely for me. I...
I'm wearing velvet and diamonds. I'm a free woman, and I have everything I
always wanted."

"Do
you love him?"

"That's
none of your concern," I replied. "I don't belong to you any more.
You sold me. You collected eighteen hundred pounds. You assumed Jeff would put
me in a brothel, but that didn't stop you."

"I
hated myself for what I'd done," he said in that flat, emotionless voice.
"I hated you, too, because you had ruined me financially—and because I
finally realized what you meant to me."

"Indeed."

"I
hated you for that most of all."

"Your
men are coming back, Derek," I said calmly. "Here. Here's your gold.
You might want to count it."

Derek
took the bag of gold and handed it to one of the men. The two of them went on
out into the alley and climbed up onto the cart. A thin cloud passed over the
face of the moon. Derek made no move to join his men. I knew I couldn't take
much more of this without breaking down, and I had too much pride to let him
know how he affected me. I looked at him with cool dignity, and when I spoke my
voice was like ice.

"You
delivered the wine. I paid for it. Our business together is over, Derek."

"Is
it?" he asked.

"I
must go inside. Goodbye, Derek."

"I
intend to see you again."

"That's
out of the question."

"I'll
be in touch, Marietta."

I
didn't reply, but turned and started across the courtyard. I could feel his
eyes following me until I finally reached the back door. Safely concealed by
the darkness, I turned and looked back, and I saw a dark flutter as his cloak
lifted in the breeze. He stepped through the gate, and a moment later I heard
the cart pulling away. I gripped the side of the door, so shaken I could hardly
stand, and as the emotions swept over me I prayed for strength. I was going to
need it as never before.

Angie
tapped on the door and stepped into the sitting room, turning around slowly to
show off her gown of sky-blue tulle, the wide, full skirt caught up with
dark-blue velvet bows. This would be her first ball at Rawlins Palace, and she
was very excited.

"You
look enchanting, Angie," I told her.

"I
thought so, too, till I saw you. That gown—I've never seen anything like it. It
must be solid gold!"

"Lucille
did a fine job with it," I remarked.

"You
look like a bloody queen! Only a queen wouldn't wear a gown cut quite so low,
I'm sure. Golden gown, diamond necklace, hair so superbly arranged—you're gonna
dazzle 'em. They won't know there's another woman in the ballroom."

"Nonsense."

"I
can hardly wait for Kyle to get a glimpse of me. I'm gonna just sweep right
past him with my nose in the air, and I'm gonna let him see me dancin' with all
the gents. Tonight may be the
night."

"You
mean he hasn't—"

"Hadn't
laid a hand on me," Angie said, exasperated. "We've spent an awful
lot of time together, it's true, ever since that night we went lookin' for Jeff,
but he's been a perfect gentleman. He's Welsh, of course, and everyone knows
the bloody Welsh are a bit slow."

"Don't
despair, Angie. He'll get around to it."

"I
just wish he'd hurry up a bit. You want to know somethin'—I think I'm gettin'
fond of him. No man's ever treated me like this before, like I was someone
special and not just another piece of tail. When we go out for a drive together
or take a stroll in the public gardens, he's solemn as a preacher, never has
much to say, but I get the feelin' bein' with me means somethin' to him."

"Do
you two still argue?"

"Worse
than ever. He told me I was to stop flirtin' with the customers, told me I was
to mind my tongue and stop usin' certain words so often, and I told him—well,
never mind what I told him, but for a minute there I thought he was gonna knock
me down! I think he actually
cares."

"Perhaps
he does."

"I
think I'm beginning to care about him, too. He gives me a funny feelin' I've
never felt before. I feel all tingly and aglow. I want to aggravate him and
stir him up, and at the same time I want to kiss him somethin' awful. Do you
think I might be fallin' in love?"

"It
sounds like it."

"With
a bloody Welshman big as a mountain and cheerful as a graveyard? Christ!"

"One
can't always control these things," I said quietly.

"I've
never been in love before. I'm not sure I like it."

Angie
shook her head, silvery-blond ringlets bouncing in back. She looked both
dismayed and delighted as she contemplated the possibility, and then she
sighed, putting Kyle out of her mind for the time being. She looked at me
closely, a small, worried frown creasing her brow.

"Are—are
you all right, Marietta?"

"Of
course I am. What a silly question."

"It's
not silly at all. Somethin's botherin' you. I can tell."

"You're
imagining things."

"Not
bloody likely, luv. I know you. You've been nervous as a cat for the past three
weeks, all jittery and tense, not yourself at all. Been distracted, too, like
your mind was on somethin' else all the time."

"Indeed?"

"Is
it Jeff?" she asked.

"Jeff's
been perfectly marvelous. He paid the dress bills. He's been attentive
and—utterly endearing. He's cut down on his drinking and hasn't had a night out
since the night you and Kyle went to look for him. He hasn't even been to see
Corinne. I imagine she's frantic."

"Then—"

"It's
something else, Angie."

"And
you don't want to talk about it."

"I'm
not sure."

"Sometimes
it helps, luv."

I
hesitated for just a moment, still indecisive, and then I sighed. I knew I
could trust her, and I simply couldn't keep it to myself any longer. As calmly
as possible, I told her about my encounter with Derek. I had been unable to
think of anything else since the night it happened, and it was a relief to be
sharing it with someone at last. Angie listened without betraying any reaction,
but when I finally finished she gave a low whistle, looking at me with dismay.

"No
wonder you've been upset," she said. "Has he attempted to see you
again?"

"The
next day he sent a boy over with an envelope addressed to me. I just happened to
be downstairs. And Jeff, thank God, was in his office when the boy arrived.
There was no message, just a slip of paper with an address scribbled on it—and
a key."

"Bloody
arrogant if you ask me!"

"I
know he expected me to come at once."

"You
haven't gone, have you?"

I
shook my head. "I've wanted to, God knows, but... I can't see him again. I
mustn't. Things are bad enough as it is."

"You
still love him. That's plain as houses."

"The
moment I saw him, it all came rushing back. I tried to hide it, tried to be
cool and indifferent, but— he knew at once. Every night I've expected him to
walk into the place, demanding to know why I haven't used that key. I've been
terrified that Jeff would find out Derek's in New Orleans."

"That
wouldn't set too well with him," Angie agreed.

"I've
got to think about Jeff. I... I owe him so much. I love Derek, but I know it
would never lead to anything. He'll be leaving for England soon. He has money
now. He'll be able to win his inheritance through the courts—have a title and a
stately mansion and all the things that mean so much to him. Once he gains his
rightful place among the aristocracy, he'll marry into his own class. There'll
be no place in his life for someone like me."

"I
can see your point."

"I
could have a few weeks with him, yes, but that would just make it harder on me
when he finally left. I'll never get over him, not entirely, but I can't risk
destroying everything just... just for a few weeks."

"You're
being very sensible."

"It
hasn't been easy," I said. "You don't know how I've longed to throw
caution to the winds. I
have
to be sensible. I have to be strong. If I
gave way to temptation it could only mean disaster. Jeff is in some kind of
financial trouble, I fear. He won't explain it to me, but I know enough to see
that it could be bad. I've been faithful to Jeff from the beginning, and if I
were to betray his trust at this point and he were to find out about it—"

I
left the sentence dangling in air. Angie understood. There was a long silence
while we looked at each other, and then I sighed wearily. I felt much better
after discussing it with her, and I told her so. She gave me a wry smile and
squeezed my hand.

"You'll
make it, luv," she promised.

Angie
went on downstairs to parade around in her gown in front of Kyle, and I stepped
into the bedroom to take a final look at myself. The gown was perfection,
simple, narrow sleeves off the shoulder, snug bodice leaving half of my breasts
exposed, the skirt belling out over the hoop, but not a ruffle or bow anywhere.
The gold made my hair seem a richer, deeper coppery shade, and the diamonds
flashed and glittered. I looked so very calm, so serene, yet the strain I had
been under was visible if one looked closely enough. The skin over my
cheekbones seemed taut, and there were faint mauve shadows under my eyes.

Sighing,
I turned away from the mirror. I would smile. I would be gracious. I would
dance with all the men and make polite conversation, and no one would even
suspect the turmoil inside. Unburdening myself to Angie had done me a great
deal of good. I felt stronger now, more determined. Merely putting it all into
words made it seem clearer, less confusing. I wouldn't see Derek again. I had
resisted temptation thus far, and I would continue to resist. He would be gone
soon. If he had intended to take any kind of aggressive action, he would surely
have done so by this time. He had sent the key, had expected me to come. I
hadn't. Perhaps he intended to let it go at that. I hoped so. Fervently.

I
left my rooms and started downstairs, moving slowly down the wide white
staircase. The guests wouldn't be arriving for another quarter of an hour, and
the front hall was deserted. I could hear Angie's voice in one of the empty
gaming rooms, and Kyle's low, somber voice admonished her in reply. He was
evidently telling her how to behave tonight, not that it would do any good. The
capricious minx would do as she pleased, mischievously taunting him with her
misconduct. Kyle was bewitched by her, and Angie was more a little bewitched
herself. I suspected that the flighty London sparrow was soon going to have her
wings clipped permanently.