The Thief and the Rogue

by Rachel Donnelly

  “I’m not ready for marriage. I like my freedom too much.” She hoped it didn’t sound too selfish, but it was true. “Besides, I have a whole month without Fergus and Fabian breathing down my neck, and I plan to enjoy every moment of it.”

  The Countess’s eyes twinkled back at her, telling her where most of her mischievousness came from. “Bon, we will have to see that you do.”

  In the week that followed Kay visited her Grandmere each morning, sharing the details of her season in London. In the evening, Kay read Moliere to her until she fell asleep. The well maintained stables provided Kay with a choice of mounts and she was able to ride each day, exploring the estate while her Grandmere regained her strength.

  Fabian’s leave-taking left Kay temporarily without a chaperon with her Grandmere laid low, but Kay didn’t mind. Though she was curious to experience the gaiety of Paris, the rusticity of the French countryside suited her better.

  She raced across the gently sloping hills, stopping to visit the tenants on her Grandmere’s behalf, reporting back their needs and the status of their families. She gobbled grapes wholesale in the vineyards and strolled through the orchards to give Grandmere an account of the budding harvest to come.

  Some days, she and her maid Claudette walked down to the village to purchase fresh produce at the market. They returned with their baskets filled with cheeses, fat tomatoes, fresh oysters, and crusty loaves of bread. The days passed, happy and lazy with troubles pushed far from her mind.

  However, upon returning from the market one morn, the butler handed her a letter. It was a message from Vivian, announcing their arrival in Paris, and the address of where they might be found. An invitation to accompany her and Lady Marjorie to a masked ball followed.

  Kay hastened up the stairs to inform Grandmere.

  “Bien!” Grandmere exclaimed with several blinks. “Of course you must go. We will begin planning your costume this instant.” And so it was decided, Kay would make the two-hour journey into the city the next day, and stay with Vivian and her Mama.

  Kay had never been to a masked ball. The thought of it set her mind and heart racing, making her toes curl with delicious anticipation.

  A seamstress from the village was sent for. Between her and Claudette, the costume was ready by the next morning.

  After long hours of fittings Kay was so exhausted, she slept the entire carriage ride to Paris.

  She arrived at the hotel to find Lady Marjorie and Vivian waiting in the marble pillar strewn lobby to greet her.

  Lady Marjorie, an older version of her petite dark-haired daughter, welcomed Kay with the patient smile of a borrowed guardian. “I’m so happy you’ve come. Vivian is bored to tears and pulling at my skirts without someone her own age.”

  Kay extended her hand, managing a brief greeting before Vivian clutched her by the arm. “Don’t mind Mama, she’s out of sorts after the battering we took getting here.” In a great gush, Vivian proceeded to relate the particulars of their horrific crossing between Dover and Calais, then started in about the ball, assuring Kay she was just as thrilled over the upcoming event.

  While Lady Marjorie procured Kay’s room, Vivian led Kay up the stairs to their chambers to view her costume.

  “A gypsy! What do you think?” She lifted the scarlet skirt from the bed to hug it against her body. Then she pranced across the room with a sultry sway to her hips. “Now, if I could only learn to dance like one. If only I could remember what you tried to teach me.” She made a not so steady spin then laughed. “Well, perhaps not. I fear a few more lessons are in order before I can do justice to that swarthy race.”

  “It suits you, Vive.” Kay chuckled at her earnest attempt. “You’ll conquer them by land and I by sea.”

  “You’re to be a sea nymph?” Vivian’s eyes widened, twinkling like dark polished stones. “How perfectly delicious!”

  At that moment Lady Marjorie sailed in with the key to Kay’s room. Vivian snatched it up then capturing Kay by the arm to sweep her down the hall to get her settled, with Lady Marjorie’s maid in tow to help with the unpacking.

  Kay strode to the trunk the two footmen had just huffed up the stairs to show off her frothy creation. “It’s a bit daring, but Grandmere assured me I’d be in good company. It was all her idea, so I’m assuming it won’t be as scandalous in this liberal city as we might think.”

  Vivian’s mouth formed a circle when Kay lifted it from the trunk. Vivian came forward to run her fingers down the length of the white gown, shimmering with blue and green accents at the empire waist and irregular hem. There were no sleeves, only thin white straps and silver bangles to be worn above the elbows.

  That evening as they dressed, Vivian’s wide-eyed look and tell-tale wicked chuckle renewed Kay’s fears that the costume might be too daring. It fit as snug as a stocking against her body. The bodice stretched over her young breasts like clutching hands, thrusting upward a bountiful display of white skin. The silver bangles felt cold, reminding her of her bareness.

  “Fetch our cloaks,” Vivian instructed her maid. “We’ll wear them downstairs. Mother is always running late. If she doesn’t see us until we get there, there’s less chance of her suffering the vapors, worrying over our virtue.”

  “I’m surprised Grandmere suggested this costume,” Kay turned from side to side, viewing herself in the looking glass.

  “Or had such a hand in designing it.” Vivian flashed a look of admiration.

  “I know.” Kay brushed back a curl from her cheek then pushed one of the silver bangles higher on her arm. Her hair was a tad wild, gathered high on her head in a shimmering mass with the odd curl left to fall down her back. She looked like a member of Poseidon’s court blown in from the sea. But it was too late to change it.

  “We look like devil and angel.” Vivian laughed. “If mother would stay home I could play the part all the better.”

  “Then perhaps I’ll play the devil.” Kay slanted her a wicked grin.

  Lady Marjorie, dressed as Katherine the Great, was so caught up in the fun; she joined in their bold conversation and nonsense during the carriage ride. It seemed the wild gaiety of Paris had swept her along as well. To their complete shock, Lady Marjorie even consented to Vivian sampling a glass of champagne.

  Kay looked down at the emerald ring on her finger, wishing she’d been able to come up with a good excuse not to wear it. But, when Vivian had spied it in her jewelry chest, guilt had frozen her brain. She could give no rational argument against wearing it. Now it encircled her finger like a noose, reminding her of her crime.

  Do not think of it, she counseled herself sternly. Wallshire is an ocean away. When you return home, you’ll simply pop it back and all will be well. Kay forced it from her mind and resolved to enjoy herself. Tonight, no one would know her, except Lady Marjorie and Vivian. Grandmere had given her leave to dance until dawn and stay out as late as she pleased. So she planned to flirt and cavort behind her silver winged mask, playing the wild sea nymph to her heart’s content, with no obligations or strings attached.

  The riotous pleasure of the party-goers assembled at the English Embassy brought a smile to Kay’s lips and a warm flush to her cheeks. There was something about the anonymity of a masked ball that made the adventure exceptionally thrilling.

  Her and Vivian’s costumes were not as risqué as they’d imagined. One voluptuous brunette, dressed as Venus, scantily clad in a flesh colored gown which made her appear almost naked. Another, dressed as the tragic Marie Antoinette, displayed such a bountiful cleavage it looked as though one deep breath might shoot her cannonball-size breasts right out of her satiny bodice.

  Everywhere Kay looked, a feast of color met her gaze, from the sparkling costumes, to the gilt mirrors adorning the walls. Huge chandeliers dipped pendulously from the high molded ceiling, shedding a golden glow on the white marble floors below.

  Kay’s silver bangles twinkled under the lights, while her dress shimmered like sea foam, molding to her legs as s
he wove her way through the crowd.

  Vivian wasted no time capturing two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter.

  Lady Marjorie spotted some old friends and hustled off to greet them, leaving the girls to follow in her wake. Introductions were made and soon Vivian was swept onto the dance floor by the couple’s son, dressed as a matador. She lowered the stick of her mask and gave Kay a wicked wink as the handsome young Frenchman led her away.

  Kay had no time to react before a young man bowed before her, extending his hand. She looked to Lady Marjorie for approval. The elder nodded her head at the fair-headed gladiator without batting an eye.

  Kay set her champagne down to take his arm. Soon they were whirling across the floor. Kay attempted to guess the color of his eyes behind his mask, eventually determining they were green. The floor was crowded, however he held her a tad closer than necessary. When he leaned near to whisper against her ear, she stiffened in alarm.

  “Are you real, Ma Cheri, or perhaps just a moonbeam that will disappear with the dawn?” Though he spoke perfect French, there was an underlying accent she failed to detect.

  She gave him a secretive smile, warmed by his light-hearted whit. His behavior was bold, but he intrigued her. So did his well-formed physique under his leather tunic, and what she could see of his handsome face behind the mask. And beside, no one knew her. She could dance with whomever she liked. Feeling daring, she leaned closer to whisper, “’Tis but a costume.” She let go a light tinkle of laughter, turning male heads around them. “But the nymph inside is real.”

  “I hope you’ll give me the pleasure of viewing her in the light of day.”

  “Perhaps I will,” she teased.

  The waltz ended, her gladiator bowed, and she found herself next in the arms of the matador.

  A jester, a Viking, and a gypsy followed—the last one not so nimble. He trod on her feet several times before the dance ended and she could escape his sweaty clasp.

  Luckily Vivian stood waiting with a fresh glass of champagne in her hand.

  Kay hadn’t had the chance to drink the first glass, and now found her throat parched from the heat and so much exertion.

  “Mama is gambling,” Vivian whispered behind her fan. “She met up with Mr. and Mrs. Wilkes, old friends from New York. He’s a banker you know, and very rich, I dare say. He has a passion for the card table and has convinced Mama to join them.”

  This was hardly new or shocking to Kay. Uncle Fabian gambled like a fiend, albeit a very lucky one. Perhaps that was why Uncle Fergus permitted him the risky hobby. However, Kay was a little surprised the usually vigilant Lady Marjorie had left her and Vivian to their own devices, which may not have been a bad thing, if Vivian wasn’t guzzling champagne like mother’s milk.

  “I’m famished,” Kay declared. “I think we should make our way to the buffet table.” She wasn’t a bit hungry, but the way Vivian was drinking, if Kay didn’t counter the effects with food soon, bubbles would start oozing out Vivian’s nose, or worse, she’d collapse on the dance floor in a heap.

  “I agree.” Vivian set down her glass and smacked her lips, then frowned as though her unladylike behavior vaguely registered. “Let us proceed. I feel the need to escape the lecherous eye of that gladiator. From the look of him he’s about to descend on us at any moment.”

  “You talk as though he’s a great bird ready to swoop down and devour his prey.”

  Vivian gave a small hysterical half-gulp, half-giggle. “I think he is. At least, I may have given him the wrong impression, you see.”

  Kay followed her gaze to the gladiator across the room, and determined that Vivian was quite right. He was conversing with a tall menacing pirate dressed in black, excepting the red sash encircling his waist. They appeared to be staring directly at them with undisguised interest.

  Something familiar in the pirate’s stature caused Kay’s heart to leap.

  She snatched Vivian’s arm, steering her in the direction of the refreshment room. She couldn’t say why, but all of a sudden she felt the urge to flee. As they filled their small gold-rimmed plates at the buffet table, Vivian’s words began to sink in. “What did you mean… you may have given him the wrong impression? Just what impression did you give him?”

  Vivian swallowed the last bite of her petit four, then shrugged. “I may have… that is to say, I didn’t exactly deny it. Still…he may have assumed that we are… courtesans.”

  “What!” Kay stared back at Vivian in horror. “Are you mad?”

  Vivian grimaced sheepishly. “I know, I know, I shouldn’t have led him on. It was such fun though. He was fairly frothing at the mouth, and you should have heard the things he was saying to me. I’d always wondered how men spoke to women like that. I mean, haven’t you wondered? You can’t honestly say you haven’t.”

  “I may have wondered about those women, but that doesn’t mean I wish to become one of them.” Kay herded Vivian to the line of chairs against the wall so that they might enjoy their repast and converse in private.

  “What shall we do?” Vivian popped another sugary morsel into her mouth.

  “We’re not going to do anything.” Kay said, slowly and distinctly. “That is, unless you really contemplated spending the night with a gladiator and a pirate, because if you did, you’re on your own.”

  “The gladiator was rather charming…”

  “Will you be serious!” Kay laughed in spite of her pique. “If I decide to give myself before wedlock, it won’t be to a masked man who thinks I’m a courtesan.”

  “Yes, I suppose our lack of experience would be embarrassingly obvious.” Vivian’s voice took on a philosophical tone. “We might not even be compensated for our trouble.”

  “That’s it,” Kay declared. “No more champagne.”

  After they’d satisfied their hunger, Kay thought it best to seek out Lady Marjorie in the games room, where Roulette, faro, and whist went on at the various tables scattered about the room.

  They arrived to discover Lady Marjorie huddled over a card table with her mask pushed up onto her forehead. A feverish gleam lit her eyes as she concentrated on the cards in her hand. Mr. Wilkes, the bristle-headed banker, his slender elegant wife, and the diminutive Mrs. Dupuis made up the rest of the four.

  Vivian and Kay took a place behind Lady Marjorie’s chair in quiet observance.

  But, Kay soon tired of watching the game and her gaze meandered about the room. Most of the players had discarded their masks to better see their cards. It amused her to put a face to the masked characters she’d seen in the ballroom. More often than not their faces contradicted their costumes, making a mockery at their attempt to transform their character for the evening.

  “Blood and Thunder!” Mr. Wilkes expelled, after losing another hand to Lady Marjorie. His consternation rumbled through his stout form to erupt in short puffs of annoyance past his flaring nostrils.

  His booming protest drew the attention of several of the other players throughout the room.

  Lady Marjorie, all too pleased at having her win announced, smiled broadly into the sharp blue eyes of the American, then patted Mrs. Wilkes’ hand in supposed compensation for her gloating.

  Mrs. Wilkes, a delicate tall redhead, simply wrinkled her freckled nose and chuckled.

  “There’s my gladiator,” Vivian whispered. “I fear Mr. Wilkes’ outburst has made us the object of his attention again.”

  Sure enough, the gladiator stood across the room, beside a table where the pirate sat playing roulette. He smiled beneath his mask, raising his glass to them with scandalous familiarity.

  When Vivian began to raise her hand, Kay pulled her elbow down. “For pity sake, don’t encourage him!”

  “I think he really likes me.”

  “Of course he likes you,” Kay whispered back fiercely. “He thinks you’re a courtesan!”

  Thankfully the pirate had his back to them, engrossed in his cards, paying no heed to their flirtatious exchange.

  �
�Perhaps we should return to the ballroom.” No sooner had the words left her lips then the pirate turned in his chair to present his unmasked profile.

  Wallshire!

  Kay ceased to breath.

  What was he doing here?

  The room began to swim.

  She clutched the back of Lady Marjorie’s chair for support. Her gaze fell to the emerald ring on her finger. She snatched her hands from the chair to clasp them in front of her.

  Vivian’s voice seemed to come from a long way off. “Kay? Are you alright? You don’t look so well.”

  “No, no I’m not.” Since illness seemed her only escape she decided to run with it. “I…I don’t feel well.”

  Vivian’s brow puckered. “Shall I take you outside for some air? What can I do?”

  Kay closed her eyes for a moment attempting to recover her wits. “I think I should like to go back to the hotel.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  “No, no…you mustn’t.” Kay patted her hand. “I don’t want to spoil your evening. It’s only a few blocks.”

  When Vivian related Kay’s plan to her mother, Lady Marjorie immediately protested. “You cannot possibly go alone. Mr. Wilkes will accompany you. He needs a breath of fresh air to clear his head. Vivian can sit in while he’s gone.”

  Kay accepted the escort gladly. Should Wallshire decide to follow her, at least she would have protection.

  Mr. Wilkes proved an attentive companion, though he commented on her haste several times during their promenade. He left her at the bottom of the central stone staircase in the lobby of the hotel, quite out of breath.

  Kay thanked him, wasting no time in seeking the security of her chambers.

  Once there, she paced the length of the fern-patterned carpet with vigor. How could this be? Just when she thought herself free of him, he appeared, like the blackguard he was—dressed in a pirate costume no less!

  And to think Vivian had been courting danger all night, flirting with his companion, who could be no other then his rakish American friend who’d accosted her in the garden. No wonder his accent sounded strange.