by Stella Riley
‘I’m not any more.’
‘But?’
She sighed. ‘Years ago – before my accident – he and I were lovers. Our relationship made working together difficult so I left the Bourgogne and joined the Marais. As it turned out, working for rival companies made our relationship difficult – so it ended.’ She paused and, perhaps more sharply than she intended, added, ‘I’m thirty-two years old, Francis – so you can’t have thought me still a virgin. But, if you really want to know and it makes any difference whatsoever, he was the last man I ever slept with.’
‘I wanted to know because you never say very much about yourself,’ he replied mildly. ‘As for making a difference – it doesn’t, of course, because nothing can. And, if I have anything to do with it, the last man you sleep with will be me. Starting, perhaps, tonight?’
Pauline opened her mouth and then closed it again, unable to decide between three smart answers. In the end she chose none of them and said instead, ‘The last man ever? That sounds very … permanent.’
‘It’s meant to. You see, I have a plan.’
‘You do?’
‘Yes. First, I’d like to take you to bed and make sure you enjoy it. And then, tomorrow – when you know exactly what you’ll be getting and hopefully feel you might be able to love me, even just a little – I thought I’d ask you to marry me.’ Tilting his head and bathing her in his peculiarly charming smile, he said, ‘What do you think?’
This time, he had the satisfaction – not only of rendering her temporarily speechless but also of seeing her eyes become suspiciously bright. Finally, her usually crisp voice noticeably husky, she said, ‘I like the first part. And I think I could love you rather more than a little. But the second part will need a lot of consideration.’
‘Persuasion,’ said Francis, ‘is my speciality.’ Taking her hands, he pulled her to her feet and into his arms. ‘And if the only woman I’ve ever truly wanted to share the rest of my life feels she can love me more than a little, she can be assured I won’t be taking no for an answer.’
* * *
While Francis was using his mouth and his voice and his hands to Pauline’s immense satisfaction, Athenais was prowling around her room, completely unable to sleep. The play had gone well and, for the first time since what she now thought of as That Night, she’d actually enjoyed the performance. What she hadn’t enjoyed was the look on Ashley’s face when he thought she wasn’t watching … nor the fact that, sensing the rift between them, the other young ladies of the company had decided that he was once again fair game.
She climbed into bed, thumped the pillow and lay down with a bump. She shut her eyes and tried to calm the churning feeling behind her ribs. Half an hour later, she was still trying.
Ashley hadn’t expected to sleep any better than he had the night before and the night before that. The single glass of wine which was all he’d had to drink was no help – and neither was the fact that he could hear Athenais padding around the room, prior to attacking her pillow. Yet somehow, exhaustion finally managed to catch up with him and he fell into the first really deep slumber he’d known in a while.
He awoke suddenly, groggy and disorientated, with every instinct warning him that there was someone else in the room. It was still dark but not completely so. Grey, shadowy light flowed in from the open doorway. He pushed himself up on one elbow and caught the scent of citrus and flowers. Then he saw her, sitting hunched on the floor near his feet, her arms wrapped around her upraised knees.
Aware of his movement and without turning her head, Athenais said, ‘I know I shouldn’t be here but I had to come.’
Ashley pulled his brain into some sort of working order but the first thought it came up with wasn’t especially helpful. ‘How long have you been sitting there?’
‘A while. There’s something I need to tell you.’
‘All right.’ He sat up and raked his hands through his hair. ‘Go back and light a couple of candles and I’ll be with you as soon as I’ve put some clothes on.’
‘No. I can’t do it like that.’
And I can’t do it stark naked under a blanket, thought Ashley irritably. He said, ‘The floor’s like ice and you must be freezing. Go back to bed and we’ll talk there, if that’s what you want.’
‘No.’ Still she didn’t turn to look at him. ‘I need the dark. If I see your face or know that you can see mine, I’ll lose my nerve.’
He didn’t like the sound of that one bit but it had the effect of banishing his momentary irritation.
‘There isn’t anything you can’t say to me, Athenais. I thought you knew that.’
‘Yes. But this is different.’ She drew a faintly unsteady breath and said, ‘It will be best if you could listen without saying anything.’
God. More rules. ‘I think I can manage that.’
‘Thank you.’ She bent her head over her knees briefly and then, raising it again, said, ‘He wanted to hurt both of us. Not just me but you as well. It wasn’t about possession any more. It was about revenge because I’d chosen you instead of him and because you … you’d added injury to insult. So t-taking me was a means to both ends.’ She stopped, as if groping for the words and then forced herself to continue. ‘The details don’t matter. It’s enough to say that he – he enjoyed taking his time. If he’d just r-raped me, I might have stood it better. But he didn’t.’ She pressed the heels of her hands over her eyes and let them drop. ‘When he had me pinned to the floor, I knew that no one would come and I c-couldn’t fight him off. And I thought that, when he’d done what he came for, he’d go. So I asked him to just get on with it.’ Another shuddering breath. ‘And he said, ‘Spread your legs and say please.’
The nausea that had been rolling around Ashley’s stomach threatened to choke him.
The bastard. The utter bastard. Of course it would never be enough for him merely to violate her body. He’d have to force her to humiliate herself as well.
He swallowed the surge of anger and waited for her to continue.
‘So I did.’
For a moment, even if she hadn’t asked him not to interrupt, the self-disgust in her tone would have rendered him incapable of it.
Athenais brushed the sleeve of her robe over her face and stood up.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘So sorry. But I needed to tell you. And now I’ll go.’
‘Wait,’ he said. But she didn’t – leaving him to damn the fact that he hadn’t a stitch on.
As he hurriedly dragged on his clothes he tried to understand why, if it was upsetting her so much, it had taken her all this time to tell him. And then all the pieces began to fall sickeningly into place. Anger turned to sheer, white-hot rage.
She was curled up near the pillows, still wrapped in the hideous pink chamber-robe. Without bothering to ask permission, Ashley sat on the foot of the bed and looked at her. Her fingers were busily knotting and unknotting the belt of her robe and her eyes were full of mingled misery and apprehension. He thought, I’d like to hold you but you’re still so damaged that you can’t even bear to have me take your hand. And I don’t dare hold mine out to you because I can’t bear to watch you back away
He tried to keep his voice neutral but the overwhelming fury inside him made working up to this gradually and with tact totally impossible. He said, ‘Athenais … have you been worrying about this because you thought it somehow made what happened your fault?’
She nodded but said nothing.
‘And you thought I might see it the same way?’
Another nod. Then, in a very low, voice, ‘Don’t you?’
‘No. I don’t. And neither should you. Did you invite him into the house?’
‘No.’
‘Ever give him the least encouragement?’
‘No.’
‘Welcome his attentions, even for a moment?’
She shivered. ‘You know I didn’t.’
‘Quite. I know you didn’t.’ He paused, still fighting for control. ‘And w
hat did you do as soon as the opportunity presented itself?’
This was plainly unexpected. She blinked and said, ‘I hit him with the poker.’
‘Yes, my brave, clever girl. You did.’ He smiled at her, albeit grimly. ‘So based on all this … how do you deduce that any part of it was your fault?’
‘I don’t know!’ The words seemed to burst from her. ‘It’s just how I feel. As if – as if I’ve betrayed you. And I wish I hadn’t said it.’
‘Well, I’m glad you did. Firstly, you didn’t betray me and it’s nonsense to think you did. And secondly, I’d sooner you betrayed me a hundred times over than endure a moment’s pain. No.’ This as she would have spoken. ‘I’m not finished yet. You killed d’Auxerre – more by accident than anything else, I imagine. But look on it as having done him a favour. Because if you hadn’t despatched him, I would have done. The only difference is that I’d have made it last longer and hurt more.’ He stood up. ‘And now we’ve both confessed, I suggest you get some sleep.’
Not at all sure how things stood between them, Athenais said awkwardly, ‘You, too.’
‘No. I’m going to walk off my temper in the rain. I’ll be back later and, if you wish it, we’ll talk more then. In the meantime, however, I’m not fit company for anyone. Forgive me.’ On which note, he left the room.
* * *
He walked for hours without noticing where he went. He’d already known what d’Auxerre had done to her. He’d seen the marks when he’d walked in to find her huddled on the floor. But hearing her speak of it in that tired, flat little voice … listening to her apologise for what she called a betrayal but which he saw as the ultimate, vile humiliation inflicted by a sick mind … aware that he hadn’t been there when she needed him … Ashley didn’t know whether he wanted to vomit or smash his fist through a wall or cry. None of which self-indulgences were the least use since what had happened couldn’t be mended.
Gradually, his temper cooled and he regained some of his customary self-possession. And that was when he thought of what could be mended.
She’d told him something that had been eating away at her for weeks; something which had plainly been incredibly hard for her to speak of. And what had he said? You thought it would make me feel differently about you? It doesn’t.
He grimaced sardonically and thought, Oh, well done, Ashley. What more reassurance could she possibly need? You fired questions at her like a bloody lawyer and then walked out – when what you should have done was to tell her that you love her. That you’ll always love her. And that it’s because you love her that you’re behaving like a prize ass.
By the time he finally returned to the house, wet and half-frozen, Athenais had already left for the theatre. In a sense, he was glad. It might give him time to get his thoughts in order before he went to her on his knees.
He’d no sooner entered the hall and was struggling out of his sodden coat when Jem erupted from the kitchen, brandishing a letter with an all-too-familiar seal.
‘Been here two hours and more,’ said Jem. ‘The cove what brought it said it was urgent.’
Ashley broke the seal and scanned the brief message. It was urgent, all right.
Honfleur possibly imminent.
Wait on me immediately.
E. Hyde
~ * * ~ * * ~
SEVEN
Tired, cold and soaked to the skin, Ashley uttered a stream of French curses and then followed them up with a volley of English ones.
Jem grinned. ‘Bugger me! I ain’t heard some of them words in a good long while.’
‘I’m glad you’re impressed,’ came the clipped reply. ‘Get your coat.’
The grin dwindled into uncertainty. ‘What?’
‘Hyde wants to see me but I’m damned if I’m going out again tonight. I’ll visit him first thing in the morning. And you’re going to the Louvre to tell him so.’
‘Me?’ asked Mr Barker, aghast.
‘That’s what I said. What’s the matter? Afraid to get your feet wet?’
‘I’d as soon not – but it ain’t that. They’ll never let me in, Colonel.’
‘They will because you’ll be in possession of a letter bearing Hyde’s seal.’ He brandished the letter he’d half-crumpled in his fist. ‘This one – on which I’ll add a note. So pull your boots on and get your coat and don’t come back until you’re sure Hyde’s got the message.’
When Jem had set off, grumbling, Ashley went in search of dry clothes and tried to make sense of the jumble inside his head. He needed to clarify his ideas about the Honfleur situation and how he intended to deal with it so that he could brief Hyde as concisely as possible the following morning. Unfortunately, he was bone-weary and wound as tight as a coiled spring which made thinking uncommonly difficult. He was also finding that, despite his best endeavours, his mind kept veering back to Athenais and the mess he’d made of their last conversation. He didn’t know whether to wait for her to come home so he could attempt to put things right – or whether to go and hide in the attic rather than chance making everything worse. After half an hour of pacing up and down but no nearer making a decision, he started to wonder if this was what insanity felt like.
In the end, he came to the conclusion that hiding was not only cowardly but also pointless since it would only postpone the inevitable. The most sensible course was to stay downstairs on the pretext of speaking to Francis and hope Athenais’s expression offered some reliable clue as to how best to proceed. If she wanted to avoid him, he’d know. And if not … well, if not he’d cross that bridge when he came to it.
He sat in the parlour and closed his eyes for a few minutes. The next thing he knew was the sound of the front door closing and wet cloaks being removed and shaken. Ashley dragged his hands over his face, hauled himself to his feet and tried to reassemble his wits. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep and, since the effect of his brief doze was to make him feel worse than he had before, he wished he hadn’t. Then the door opened and Athenais walked in, closely followed by Francis and Pauline.
In some distant corner of his brain, Ashley registered the fact that Francis had his arm about Pauline’s waist but he didn’t bother to wonder about that. Instead, he watched Athenais’s eyes widen with something that might have been pleasure and saw her take a sudden, impulsive step towards him before checking herself.
He kept both his smile and his words neutral and let them encompass Francis and Pauline as well. ‘Did the play go well tonight? Not that I need ask – since it always does.’
‘The house wasn’t full,’ remarked Pauline, stepping away from Francis with slightly heightened colour. ‘This incessant downpour, I suppose. I think we’ll all be better for some hot spiced wine and a bite of supper.’
‘I’ll help you,’ said Athenais quickly before Francis could volunteer. She’d spent most of the day thinking that she wanted to talk to Ashley … but now the moment was upon her, she realised that she didn’t know what to say. More to the point, she didn’t know what he might say and wasn’t prepared to risk having a potentially awkward conversation where they could be interrupted at any minute. ‘I’ll cut some bread and cheese.’ And promptly left the room.
Pauline looked first at Francis and then at Ashley before spreading her hands in a gesture of defeat. ‘Jumpy as a cat,’ she said. And followed in the girl’s wake.
Closing the door behind her, Francis said, ‘Any progress worth mentioning?’
‘Some.’ Although he didn’t pretend to misunderstand, Ashley had no intention of discussing it so he lifted one enquiring brow and said, ‘Less, it would seem, than you.’
Francis grinned and said simply, ‘I’m going to marry her.’
Ashley stared at him for a moment, completely taken aback.
‘Pauline? Seriously?’
‘Seriously. Oh – she hasn’t said yes yet. But she will. Mainly because I won’t give up until she does.’ He hesitated and then added, ‘I never expected to feel this way about anyone. It … it’
s beyond my comprehension. Unfortunately, just at present, it’s slightly beyond hers as well. But I intend to change that.’
‘In which case,’ said Ashley, extending his hand, ‘I wish you all the luck in the world. She’s an exceptional woman.’
‘More so than I probably deserve,’ agreed Francis, gripping the outstretched fingers. ‘But I’m not about to let that stand in my way. I’m sure you know the feeling.’
‘Not exactly.’ Ashley stepped away and said, ‘I’ve no wish to dampen your spirits but I’ve had word from Ned Hyde. It seems that the Honfleur plot is still active and likely to happen quite soon. I don’t have any details but I’m seeing him tomorrow and will know more then. I’d appreciate you being here when I get back so we can discuss our options.’
Francis nodded, all traces of levity and euphoria wiped from his face.
‘You’ve a plan?’
‘The outline of one. It will require some refining – and an extra player. But I’ve some thoughts on that as well.’ His mouth curled wryly. ‘Your opinion will be interesting.’
* * *
In the kitchen, Athenais sawed laboriously through a loaf and cast a brief, sideways glance at Pauline. It was the first chance for a private conversation they’d had all day and there was a question she was burning to ask. Finally, laying aside one hopelessly uneven hunk of bread and starting to cut the next, she said, ‘Pauline … are you and Francis … I mean, are the two of you …’
‘Yes.’ Crossing to her side and surveying the damage, Pauline said, ‘Give me that knife before you cut your fingers off.’
Athenais leaned over to kiss her cheek.
‘That’s wonderful!’
‘Don’t get too carried away.’ Two beautifully symmetrical slices joined Athenais’s sorry effort. ‘It’s not as though it’s likely to last.’
‘Not last? Why wouldn’t it?’
‘Do I really need to spell it out? Look at me – then look at him. On top of which, he’s a bloody Viscount.’
Athenais leaned against the table and folded her arms.
