The Price of Pleasure

by Connie Mason

  “That won’t be necessary,” Reed bit out. He wasn’t going to lie abed for long, not with a would-be assassin on the loose. He leaned heavily between two footmen while he was helped up to his bedchamber. Though it was Fleur he wanted with him, he resisted the urge to ask her to accompany him. It wouldn’t be seemly. He made her aware of his feelings, however, by the look he sent her before he quit the room.

  Fleur worried her bottom lip as she watched Reed being carried off. Once again, he could have been killed. Fleur silently vowed to renew her efforts to find those responsible. It was the least she could do for Reed before disappearing from his life.

  Fleur debated all night about abandoning Reed and moving to the townhouse as planned. But when she found Reed sitting in the breakfast room in the morning, calmly eating, she realized he wasn’t seriously hurt, making her decision to leave easier.

  “Are you well enough to be out of bed?” Fleur asked as she filled her plate and settled in a chair next to Reed. Since they were the only two at breakfast, she felt she could speak freely.

  “I feel fine,” Reed said. “Doctor Freeman said to keep the bandage in place for a few days, and so I shall.”

  “Who do you think did this to you?”

  “I wish I knew. I plan to call on Porter this morning to report the incident. I am beginning to believe that I am, indeed, the target of an assassin. The reason behind the attacks leaves me puzzled, however.”

  “Perhaps I will learn something when I go riding with Monsieur Barbeau this afternoon. He’s to call for me at two. Tomorrow, Lisette and I shall move to the townhouse.”

  “I don’t want you to leave,” Reed said. “I like having you here.”

  Fleur stiffened. Of course he liked having her here. She was on hand to slake his lust. What could be more convenient? “I cannot stay here. Living in the same house with you raises suspicion and hinders my investigation.”

  Reed slammed his hand on the table. “Porter had no right to ask you to place your life in danger.” The effort must have cost him, for he rubbed his right temple with the pads of his fingers.

  “Does your head hurt? You should have rested another day or two as the doctor advised.”

  “My head feels fine,” Reed snapped from between clenched teeth.

  Fleur finished her breakfast and rose. “Do you mind if I borrow your carriage? Lisette and I wish to move some things to the townhouse.”

  “I was about to offer it to you. In fact, I’ll go with you. I need to speak with Updike and the rest of the staff. When do you want to leave?”

  “Ten o’clock, if that’s agreeable with you.”

  “Ten o’clock is fine. I’ll meet you in the foyer.”

  Fleur returned to her chamber to make sure everything was packed and ready to go. Peg had matters in hand so Fleur went in search of Lisette. She ran into Helen and Violet in the foyer.

  “Reed said you’re leaving tomorrow,” Helen said. “It’s for the best, you know.”

  “Indeed it is,” Violet agreed. “People are beginning to talk about you. Most assume you are Reed’s chère amie.” She smirked. “They are not far off, are they? It’s no secret you’ve been sleeping with him.”

  “I’ve no time for this conversation,” Fleur replied, turning on her heel.

  “Wait!” Violet called after her.

  Fleur stopped but didn’t turn around.

  “Do you deny that Reed is moving you into his townhouse so he can visit your bedchamber without interference?”

  Fleur didn’t dignify Violet’s question with an answer. A good part of her assumption was correct. Fleur had been sleeping with Reed, but she didn’t intend for it to continue. One day soon she would move to the country and forget Reed.

  No, not forget him. That wasn’t possible. But she wouldn’t see him again. Reed had to produce an heir, and she wasn’t capable of giving him one.

  Fleur found Lisette, and at precisely ten o’clock they met Reed in the foyer. Their trunks were being loaded onto the carriage as Reed handed both ladies inside and joined them.

  “It really isn’t necessary for you to come with us, Reed,” Fleur pointed out. “The servants at the townhouse know we are coming and are capable of taking care of us. Don’t you have business with Lord Porter?”

  “I do. After I drop you off and speak with Updike, I shall continue on to Whitehall. I’m not really up to riding today.” As if to prove his words, Reed winced and touched his temple when the carriage jerked forward and rattled off down the street.

  Fleur made a clucking sound in her throat. “You shouldn’t be out of bed. Your visit to Lord Porter can wait.”

  That blasted dimple appeared in Reed’s cheek. “Don’t fuss over me, love. I’m fine.”

  Fleur knew Reed wasn’t as fine as he professed, but she ceased berating him. Reed being Reed, he would do what he pleased. He had suffered far worse and survived.

  “We’re here,” Reed said as the carriage rolled to a stop. He stepped down and handed the ladies out. Two footmen rushed out of the house and began unloading luggage. Up-dike held the door open for them.

  “Welcome, my lady, my lord,” Updike greeted.

  “Thank you, Updike,” Fleur replied.

  “Why don’t you and Lisette direct the unpacking?” Reed suggested.

  Fleur knew Reed wished to speak to Updike in private, so she nodded and went upstairs after Lisette and Peg, who had arrived earlier.

  Reed waited until they were gone to speak. “I need a private word with you, Updike. Shall we retire to the study?”

  Once inside the familiar room, Reed found the brandy in the usual place, filled two snifters and handed one to Updike. “Sit down, Updike.”

  The valet settled into a chair and sipped his brandy. “What’s on your mind, my lord? Everything is in readiness for the countess and her companion, just as you asked.”

  Reed sat behind his desk, warming the brandy between his hands. “I’m appointing you, Peg, and the entire staff as Fleur’s watchdogs. She’s on a dangerous mission and could encounter people who do not have her best interests at heart. Therefore, there are some instructions I wish you to impart to the staff.”

  “I understand,” Updike replied. “What do you wish us to do?”

  “Make sure Fleur is accompanied wherever she goes. I want to know with whom she goes out and for how long she is gone. She is to accompany an émigré today on a carriage ride through the park. Send someone you trust to follow on horseback and provide help should she require it.”

  Updike frowned. “Do you believe Lady Fontaine to be at risk? Is there nothing you can do to prevent her from endangering herself?”

  “The woman is too stubborn to listen to me.”

  “Might I inquire about the bandage you’re wearing?”

  “Another failed attempt on my life,” Reed drawled. “It’s not important.”

  “I should say it is important,” Updike objected. “Perhaps my time would be better spent protecting you.”

  “No! I can take care of myself, Updike. Fleur cannot.”

  “As you say, my lord,” Updike said with a hint of sarcasm.

  “Is that mockery I hear in your voice?”

  “Indeed no, my lord. If anyone can foil would-be assassins, it’s you.”

  Reed’s lips twitched with amusement. “Just so we understand one another.” Updike rose to leave. “One more thing; I’m keeping a key to the front door.”

  “If you think it’s necessary, my lord. However, a footman will be stationed at the door to admit you when you visit.”

  Reed’s lips twitched again. “Let me phrase that another way. Everyone, including the servants, will be abed when I visit.”

  “But why would you . . .” Updike’s brow rose as comprehension dawned. “Oh, I see. That’s the way the wind blows.”

  “That’s precisely how it is. I must be on my way, Updike. Follow my instructions and all will be well.”

  Fleur returned to the mansion in time for
luncheon and to change her clothes for her carriage ride with Monsieur Barbeau. Peg helped her into a blue silk confection with short sleeves, a square neckline and high waist, embellished with embroidered rosebuds and trimmed with lace. Before she left the bedchamber, Peg handed her a matching bonnet and draped a silk shawl over her shoulders.

  “Enjoy your ride, my lady,” Peg called after Fleur as she left her chamber. “The weather is perfect for an outing.”

  Barbeau arrived at precisely two o’clock. His admiration was evident as he watched her descend the stairs. “You are a vision, Countess.” He offered his arm. “Shall we?”

  Fleur smiled and placed her hand in the crook of Barbeau’s arm. They breezed past a footman, who held the door open for them. Barbeau handed Fleur into the carriage parked at the curb.

  Fleur’s smile slipped when she saw Count Dubois sitting on the seat opposite her. What was he doing here?

  “Count Dubois expressed a wish to join us,” Barbeau said. “I didn’t think you would mind.”

  “Not at all,” Fleur said, greeting Dubois with a forced smile.

  They made small talk until the carriage entered the park and headed down the Serpentine. Then Fleur inquired, “Did both of you manage to escape the turmoil in France with your families?”

  Barbeau and Dubois exchanged significant glances. “I am not wed and have no close relatives,” Barbeau replied. “Count Dubois was the only one of his family to escape death.”

  “I’m sorry,” Fleur said, patting Dubois’s hand. “Shall we talk of more pleasant things?”

  “Indeed,” Dubois said, seizing the initiative. “I understand you will be moving to Hunthurst’s townhouse soon. Did Lady Helen tire of your company? Or was the decision Hunthurst’s?”

  “Actually, it was my decision to leave,” Fleur replied. “I had imposed long enough and felt it was time to find a place of my own. Lord Hunthurst was kind enough to lease me his townhouse.”

  “How convenient for you,” Dubois said in a tone dripping with mockery.

  “Is Lord Hunthurst in good health?” Barbeau asked.

  The question startled Fleur. Did he know about the latest attack on Reed’s life? “Fine, why do you ask?”

  Barbeau shrugged. “No reason. I understand the Bonhams are holding a soirée tomorrow night. There’s to be music. Will you attend? If you require an escort, I’d be happy to come for you in my carriage.”

  “I’ll give you my answer if you will answer a question for me.”

  “Anything, Countess.”

  “Why are you so interested in Lord Hunthurst?”

  “Gallard Duvall is a friend,” Dubois answered in Barbeau’s stead. “He speaks of Hunthurst often. He told us that attempts have been made on the earl’s life. We are concerned about his well-being. Does he have enemies, Countess?”

  “Not that I am aware of, but I know little of his lordship’s affairs. I am merely an acquaintance of his sister-in-law.”

  “Rumor has it that Hunthurst recently returned from the Continent,” Dubois probed.

  “If he was in France, our paths never crossed there.”

  The questions about Reed ended abruptly as the conversation turned in another direction. The next hour passed pleasantly enough, even though Fleur’s distrust of the pair grew with each passing minute. Yet why would either of these men want Reed dead? No matter how hard she tried, she could connect neither of them to Reed.

  Apparently the drive through the park had come to an end as Dubois signaled the driver, and the carriage headed out of the park. It was a short ride to the mansion.

  “You didn’t answer my earlier question. May I escort you to the Bonham soirée tomorrow evening?” Barbeau asked as he handed her down.

  “Very well, I accept your escort. You may come for me at the townhouse.”

  Barbeau beamed. “Excellent. I shall come by at nine tomorrow evening.” He took her elbow. “I’ll walk you to the door, Countess.”

  Fleur allowed him to escort her to the front door, which was promptly opened by a glowering Hughes. Fleur bid Barbeau goodbye and walked into the foyer. The butler promptly closed the door behind her.

  “You’re scowling, Hughes. Are you angry about something?”

  “You’ve been gone nearly two hours. Madame Lisette was worried about you.”

  “I was in no danger,” Fleur assured him, stripping off her gloves. “I’ll find Lisette and let her know I am home. Please have the carriage brought around. I think Lisette and I will move to the townhouse immediately instead of waiting for tomorrow.”

  Fleur found Lisette in her bedchamber, packing the last of her belongings.

  “Did you learn anything, ma petite? I don’t like this game you’re playing. Why did you have to accept another assignment when we could be living comfortably in your aunt’s home in the country?”

  “I was in no danger, Lisette. I learned a little more about Barbeau and Dubois today but nothing to connect them to Reed.” She sighed. “I’m inclined to agree with Reed about the traitor coming from within the organization.”

  “Do you believe an English agent is involved?”

  “At this point, I’m not sure of anything beyond the fact that someone wants Reed dead. If you are ready, I’d like to move to the townhouse today instead of tomorrow.”

  “That suits me,” Lisette agreed. “I do not like the atmosphere here.”

  After a somewhat heated discussion with Porter, Reed was no closer to naming his betrayer. Nevertheless, Porter was concerned about Reed’s safety and suggested that he remain out of sight until the traitor was caught. Reed promptly refused.

  He left Porter’s office with little resolved. After, Reed visited his bank, his tailor and performed other errands, ending up at his club to partake of a lonely dinner. When anyone asked about the bandage, he said he had fallen down the stairs. No one dared question his excuse except his friend Viscount Tolland.

  “Come now, Hunthurst, never say you expect me to believe you fell down the stairs,” Tolland scoffed when Reed invited him for an after-dinner brandy. “What really happened? I heard that someone is taking pot shots at you. The betting books are filled with possible suspects. I even placed a bet myself.”

  Reed cocked an eyebrow. “Who, pray tell, did you bet on?”

  Tolland laughed. “Why, Lady Violet, of course. You know how testy a woman can get when the marriage proposal she expects never materializes.”

  Reed threw back his head and laughed. “Are all the bets as ridiculous as yours? Really, Tolland, Violet isn’t a violent woman, despite the alliteration.”

  Tolland shrugged. “Have you a better suspect?”

  “I do not. I don’t know how this kind of gossip gets started. It’s all supposition. I’m not in danger.” Though his reply wasn’t exactly true, he hadn’t connected anyone he knew to the unprovoked attacks upon his life.

  Tolland stared pointedly at the bandage covering Reed’s temple.

  Reed gestured at it. “I told you, I fell down the stairs. Clumsy of me, I know, but it’s the truth.”

  “So you say,” Tolland drawled. “I’m your friend, Hunthurst. I’m at your service if you need my assistance.”

  “I appreciate that, Tolland.”

  “I thought I’d hit the tables at Crocket’s tonight, and perhaps check out the women when the play becomes boring or the cards turn against me. Would you care to join me? You’ve been keeping to yourself too much of late. You need to get out and about more. You’ve changed since you returned from wherever it was you were.”

  Reed intended to refuse, until he recalled that Fleur would not welcome him to her bed when he returned home. She had made her feelings perfectly clear. She wanted to get on with her life, and she did not want him to be part of it.

  “Why not?” Reed said. “Tell you what, Tolland. I’ll return home to change my clothes and meet you at Crocket’s around nine o’clock. Is that agreeable to you?”

  “Perfect,” Tolland replied. “I shall
see you . . . ”

  Tolland’s sentence fell off, his gaze settling on something beyond Reed. “I say, do you know that gentleman? He seems to be heading quite determinedly in your direction.”

  Reed glanced over his shoulder. “That gentleman is Count Dubois, an émigré.”

  “That’s my signal to be off. Until tonight, Hunthurst.”

  Reed watched Tolland disappear out the door, already regretting the night of debauchery they had planned.

  “Lord Hunthurst, how excellent to see you again. May I join you?”

  Reed motioned negligently toward the chair Tolland had just vacated. “Be my guest.”

  Dubois sat down with a flourish, summoned a waiter and ordered brandy.

  “What’s on your mind, Dubois?”

  “Nothing of importance, my lord. I saw a friendly face and thought I’d ask if I might join you.” He stared intently at Reed. “I saw Countess Fontaine earlier today. The woman is a delight. Have you known her long?”

  Reed’s hands gripped the edge of the table as jealousy rampaged through him. If the bastard touched Fleur, he’d kill him. “No, not long. She’s a friend of my sister-in-law. I met her when I moved into the family mansion.”

  Dubois took a sip of brandy. “I understand she is leasing your townhouse.”

  “It was empty, so finding a trustworthy renter was most fortunate. Why is this of interest to you?” Reed drawled.

  Dubois shrugged. “Just making small talk, mon ami. The countess has agreed to accompany my friend Barbeau to the Bonham soirée tomorrow night.”

  “Indeed,” Reed said, barely able to speak through his clenched teeth. “Is that all you wished to tell me?”

  “I hoped you could enlighten me concerning the countess. There is a mystery about her that intrigues me. Barbeau claims to have known her deceased husband but knows little about the lady herself. I wish to court her.”

  “I know even less about the countess than you do,” Reed bit out. “It’s none of my affair whether or not you court her.” He pushed his chair back and rose. “If you’ll excuse me, I have an appointment to keep.”

  Dubois rose too. “Certainly. I bid you adieu, my lord.”