“But now I need no longer feel ashamed to return to the home of my family,” the vicomte continued. “As I have been telling my young niece here”—he smiled at Delphine—“I can now restore the chateau to its glory.”
“Oh yes,” Delphine said softly. Her face was positively glowing as she turned to the others. “Did I not tell you, Marguerite? It will be the perfect setting for me. The chateau is the home I have always dreamed of.”
Marguerite started to open her mouth, but she could not think what to say.
“And you, my child, are as lovely as the setting.” The vicomte beamed at Delphine. “You will be a worthy chatelaine for the Chateau Morvan.”
Marguerite finally found her voice. “But, Delphine, I thought it was agreed that you would live with me.”
Sudden fury flooded Delphine’s face, making her almost ugly. Marguerite flinched before it.
“Not now,” whispered Ned, putting a hand on her arm. “There is no need to talk about it now.”
His face was white—he knew what she was afraid of—but what he said was sensible, she knew. Any protest she could make would provoke a scene and accomplish nothing. It would make things worse. Already she could see Ned’s parents looking at each other, wondering what was going on. She was going to have to tell them. How were they going to react to the news that Delphine was not just mad but murderous as well?
The old vicomte seemed oblivious to the tension. “There is no need for you to worry, Marguerite. The little Delphine is more than welcome to make her home here.” He continued to talk about his plans for the renovation of the chateau.
Delphine smiled smugly.
Marguerite tried not to panic.
Chapter Forty
“Not tonight,” Ned said, grabbing hold of Marguerite’s arm when she was about to follow her cousin down the hall to their bedrooms. “You can’t accomplish anything at the moment.”
Mme. d’Hivers joined them. “Do not worry. I will take care of her.”
“How? You cannot…” Marguerite shook her head violently.
“Stop that!” The older woman spoke sharply. “Calm yourself. I will see that she creates no difficulties and goes quickly to sleep this evening. We will talk about it in the morning.” After a quick nod in Ned’s direction, she hurried after Delphine.
“But Delphine can’t be allowed to think that she will actually live here with the vicomte.” Marguerite sounded on the verge of hysteria. “I have to stop this nonsense.”
“Shh.” He pulled her around a corner and held her tightly, pressing her to his chest. He had no idea how to deal with this latest development, but that didn’t matter at the moment. He could figure that out later. Right now his main concern was to take care of Marguerite.
“Hush, my love, hush. If you confront Delphine at the moment, she will just get hysterical, and you will achieve nothing.” He could feel her trembling in his arms and rubbed her back gently until she calmed.
When she was no longer shaking, she pulled back, but she did not look pleased. “You are doing that again. You rub my back to calm me down as if I were a baby. Or a pet kitten.” She pressed her lips together and glared at him.
He wanted to smile but managed to restrain himself. “Don’t be insulted. You had a shock. Of course you were upset.”
She sighed and nodded in resignation. “It was just… Earlier I had been thinking that all my problems had been solved.” Her mouth twisted in an effort to smile. “Foolish of me, wasn’t it?”
“Not at all.” He turned her to shepherd her to her room. “But that doesn’t mean you need to berate yourself. There are all sorts of wise little adages that tell you things will look better in the morning.”
She did not resist as he nudged her along, but she did give him a sardonic look. “You are humoring me.”
“Am I?” He smiled. “Is it working?” He opened her door and followed her in. “You seem to be calmer.”
A cheerful fire blazed on the hearth, but she ignored it and went to stare out the window. He waited in the warmth.
“Can you see anything?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Only my own reflection. But I know that the sea is out there.”
“Do you find that calming?”
She lifted a shoulder. “It’s cold and indifferent. Yes, I suppose that does make it calming.”
He shook his head. “You’re being melodramatic again.” She lifted her head to a defiant tilt, but he ignored it and continued. “You are also getting cold. I can see the drapes moving with the draft. Come down by the fire and warm up.”
When she came close, he pulled her down to sit in his lap. She did not resist, and rested her head on his shoulder while he held her. For a tall woman, she felt remarkably small in his arms. Thin, still too thin. He wanted to feed her delicacies that would tempt her appetite. What would she like? Something savory? Morsels of pheasant breast? Or sweets? Cream cakes? Chocolates? What were her favorite foods?
He smiled into her hair. So much he had to learn about her.
Her sigh brought him back to the present.
“Your parents don’t know yet, do they,” she said.
“Know what?”
“That she is a poisoner. That she was trying to kill Tony. That she may have killed her uncle.” She was not looking at him. Her face was still hidden against his chest.
“You make her sound like La Voisin.”
That made her lift her head and look at him with a frown. “Who is La Voisin?”
“A sixteenth-century fortune teller with a sideline in poisons. For a while, poisoning was quite a popular activity at the court of Louis the Fourteenth. Do you suppose that’s why your cousin thinks she belongs at Versailles?” He grinned.
Marguerite did not seem amused. “Do you think it will improve matters if you treat it as a joke?”
“It can’t hurt. If it will make you feel better, I could stand on my head or put on a fake nose.” He leaned his head back to see if his nonsense was working.
She shook her head but couldn’t entirely hide her smile. “Perhaps not. But I must consider what to do.”
“Yes.” He regarded her seriously now. “We won’t be able to hide it. She is a danger, and people have to be told. They have to be warned. Tony. My parents.”
“And what should I do about the vicomte? He could be in danger.”
“You thought she might have poisoned his coffee.” He smiled at her look of chagrin. “No, don’t feel embarrassed. It was my first thought too. But I think he’s safe for the time being.”
“Because the seeds have been discarded?” Marguerite shook her head. “She might have something else. I don’t know.”
“Yes, she might, though I doubt it. Where would she get any poison? Has she even gone to the village here? If she had bought poison, Seznec would have said something. But she isn’t going to want any harm to come to the vicomte until he has restored the chateau, or at least handed it over to her.”
“Yes, you are probably right.” Marguerite wrinkled her nose. “She may not be rational, but she has a certain cleverness. She is shrewd enough to see what is to her advantage and she acts in ways that appeal to people, at least when they first meet her.”
Then she tilted her head, considering. “But we still have a problem. We have to warn the others. We know that. But once they know, are they going to let us just take her away? When Tony finds out he has been poisoned, won’t he want her punished? And are your parents going to be content to have a woman who is not just mad but dangerous living near their son?”
He smiled happily at her.
She took exception to that. “Now why are you smiling? Do you find this amusing?”
“No.” He couldn’t seem to stop smiling. “But you finally said we. You said we have a problem.”
“I’m sorry.” Her eyes were averted again. “I should not burden you…”
“Stop that!” He grabbed hold of her shoulders and managed to keep himself from shaking her, t
hough that was what he wanted to do. “I love you, Marguerite, and you love me. That means we share our burdens just as we share our joys. That’s what it means to love each other.”
She looked at him for a long moment then reached up to trace her fingers gently along his cheek. “I love you so,” she whispered.
He would never tire of hearing her say that. “Come,” he said, “let’s go to bed. There will be time enough to deal with shared problems in the morning. Now it’s time for us to share some of the joy of love.”
Chapter Forty-one
Candle in hand as she went wearily down the corridor, Mme. d’Hivers stopped abruptly at the sight of Lord Edward. Shoes in hand, he was approaching the door of his room. He stopped abruptly as well.
“Madame.” He nodded courteously.
She glared at him. “I will not ask where you are coming from. I will endeavor to forget this encounter.”
“As you will.” He inclined his head again. But before she could pass on her way, he spoke again. “Madame, please. I wished to ask about Mlle. de Roncaille.”
She considered. Well, if he was truly going to marry Marguerite, she might as well tell him. “She grew a trifle excited last night. I finally persuaded her to drink a tisane.”
“A tisane?” He cocked his head.
She shrugged. “A tisane with a bit of laudanum in it. She sleeps soundly now, but just in case, I locked her door.”
“You have the key?”
“Of course.” She took it from her pocket to show him. Did he think she was a fool?
He smiled then. “Good.”
She started to leave, but he caught her sleeve to stop her once more.
“Madame,” he said, “you and I will keep Marguerite safe. Agreed?”
Was that truly his goal? If so… “Agreed.” She watched until he had entered his room. Aristocrat or not, he might perhaps be a good thing for her Marguerite.
Marguerite woke to the chill gray light of morning. The chill was caused by the absence of Ned. She slept so soundly in his arms that when it was time for him to go to his own bed, he could slip away without waking her.
Appearances must be maintained, even if everyone knew, or at least suspected, that he was spending every night with her.
Ah, but the chill left by the loss of his warmth was almost painful.
She wanted to laugh at herself. Little more than a month ago, she had not even known that Lord Edward Tremaine existed. Now she was bemoaning a few hours’ separation. But she didn’t want to laugh.
Nor did she want to get up and face the day.
She wanted to curl up under the covers and feel sorry for herself. Which was idiotic. Ned’s arrival—simply his existence—had transformed her life so utterly that she had no business feeling sorry for herself, even for a moment.
She made herself get up and get dressed in one of her simple black gowns—a skirt and bodice of soft wool, with only the gathers at the back of the skirt to suggest a bustle. To keep her costume from looking too stark, she tucked a white fichu around her neck before fastening the jet buttons of the bodice.
She paused, stricken, with her hands on the last button, realizing that she was looking forward to an end to her mourning. It was only six months since Papa had died. Was she forgetting him already?
No. What she sometimes forgot was not Papa, but the fact that he was dead. There were moments when she turned to ask what he thought about some passage she had just played, about the phrasing. At those times she could almost hear his answer.
But then so much had happened, there had been such turmoil, that Papa seemed to be part of another life completely.
She took a deep breath and straightened her spine. Meditations on life and death must wait for another time. There were things she had to do here and now, so she had best get on with them.
It was time for breakfast, but she could not break bread with Delphine at the moment. The girl would either have forgotten all about the events of yesterday or she would be bubbling over with delight. Marguerite did not think she could sit calmly through either performance.
What she needed to do was make sure that Delphine didn’t have any other substances—Marguerite gave an abrupt laugh. Was she trying to fool herself? Did she think not saying the word even to herself would change things? Poisons. What she needed to do was make sure Delphine didn’t have any other poisons in her possession.
Since Delphine would almost certainly be at breakfast, this would be a good time to search her room thoroughly. When she and Ned had searched, they had stopped as soon as they found the agrostemme seeds. It had not occurred to them that Delphine might have any other poisons. She probably didn’t—where could she get them? But it was necessary to be sure.
Before heading down the corridor, she pocketed her room key, just in case Delphine had decided to lock her room. Marguerite was fairly certain that the same key opened all the bedrooms.
As it turned out, that had been a sensible precaution. Delphine’s room was indeed locked, and it took a bit of jiggling to get it open. Feeling a bit smug about her foresight, Marguerite opened the door.
The smugness promptly evaporated.
Delphine was inside the room, with a drawer in her hands and all her stockings dumped out on the bed. She had turned to the door and was looking haughtily affronted.
She was also dressed in one of the ancient dresses, one of the milkmaid ones, with the skirt pinned up to show the underskirt. Dear God, did this mean Delphine was living in another century again?
“What are you doing here?” she demanded.
Marguerite ignored that and walked into the room. “What are you doing, Delphine?”
“That is none of your affair.”
“Are you looking for something?” Marguerite asked.
“That is none of your affair,” Delphine repeated. “Do not presume to question me.”
“If you are looking for the bottle of little seeds, the agrostemme seeds, they aren’t there any more. We found the bottle and threw it into the sea.” Marguerite stepped closer, keeping a cautious eye on her cousin.
Delphine backed away, clutching the drawer in front of her. “You have no business taking my things.” Her voice began rising.
Marguerite stopped. Perhaps she should not have mentioned the agrostemme. She did not want to provoke Delphine, so she tried to speak gently. “Are you looking for something else? Perhaps I can help you.”
“You took my seeds! Who are you to touch my belongings? You had no right!” Delphine’s voice had risen to a shriek.
“Calm yourself, Delphine.” This was worse than usual. Much worse. There was a hectic look about Delphine that she had never seen before. This time, Marguerite did not know how to approach her cousin, but she had to say something. She kept her voice low and calm. “Perhaps if you sit down…a tisane, perhaps?”
Delphine did not seem to even hear the words. Her eyes were blazing with fury.
“How dare you enter my room? You are nothing! You should not even approach me without my permission.”
“Delphine, please.” Marguerite put out a hand toward her cousin.
“No!” Delphine sprang back from her cousin’s hand, holding the drawer in front of her like a shield. Terror replaced the fury in Delphine’s eyes. “I know you. You wish me harm. You want to send me back to that school. I will not go back there!”
Suddenly she darted toward Marguerite and swung the drawer at her.
The attack was completely unexpected. Never had Delphine attacked her this way. Marguerite barely managed to put up an arm to deflect the blow, and a corner of the drawer hit her elbow. Crying out in pain, she clutched the injured arm to her and tears filled her eyes. She fell to her knees. She could not believe how much it hurt. She could not straighten it.
No, not her arm. Her arm could not be injured. She gasped and closed her eyes against the pain as she tried to straighten her arm.
She did not even notice when Delphine swung again. The second blow c
aught her on the temple. Everything went black.
Ned hurried to the breakfast room. There had been no sound from Marguerite’s room. She might still be sleeping, and if so, he did not want to disturb her. But perhaps she had not waited for him and had gone down to breakfast alone.
He stopped in the doorway. No. She wasn’t there. The only people present were his parents. He would just as soon not have had to face them right now, but they had seen him.
Since there was no escape, he made an effort to look cheerful and said good morning.
His mother gave him one of her looks, the one that said, I know perfectly well what you are about, and don’t think you’re going to get away with it.
Since there were no servants in attendance at the moment, she felt free to speak. “I trust you are prepared to explain that little drama we witnessed last night.”
“Drama?” he asked vaguely.
Lady Penworth held up a hand. “Do not play the fool with me, young man. You know perfectly well what I am talking about. Why was Miss Benda in such a rush to get next to her uncle…”
“Her great-uncle,” Ned interrupted to say. “Or really, I suppose it’s her great-great-uncle. Or should there be another great in there?”
His mother looked at him and he subsided. Nonsense never worked on her.
“What was so important about his coffee?” she asked. “Miss Benda was so determined to get hold of it that anyone would have thought it was poisoned.” She raised her brows questioningly.
Ned knew how a mouse felt when the cat had him trapped. He opened his mouth and then closed it.
“I thought so!” Lady Penworth pinched her lips closed. Then came a resigned sigh. “Her cousin isn’t just mad, is she? She’s actually dangerous.”
“We’re not entirely sure.” He wasn’t ready to explain. Not yet. Ned turned to his father, who shook his head.
“No use looking to me for help,” he said. “I’m as worried as your mother is.”
“You aren’t sure,” Lady Penworth said to her son, “but you are certainly suspicious enough. I think the two of you are the ones who are mad. If that girl is actually dangerous, you cannot possibly allow her to live anyplace where she could roam free. She must be kept confined.”
Lord Edward's Mysterious Treasure Page 24
