Love Charade Part 2

"Idiot child!" the earl exclaimed. "Your disguise would be penetrated immediately and the only way you

would work your pa.s.sage would be on your back!"

This brutal declaration produced none of the maidenly horror to be expected of a well-bred virgin.

Danielle merely nodded.

"In that case I shall stow away."

"You will be discovered and the consequences the same."

"Nevertheless, Lord Linton, I shall take my chance as I have done in recent weeks. You cannot stop me

and, indeed, have no right to do so."

The earl raised his gold quizzing gla.s.s and examined the small, determined face. "No?" he inquired with interest.

"No," Danielle stated definitely. "You are not my guardian, sir."

"This may come as something of a surprise to you, brat, but in the absence of any other, I a.s.sumed that

role, albeit unwillingly, some time ago."

Danielle half rose from the table, face set and eyes blazing. "I do not accept that, milord."

"You may accept it or not, as you choose," Linton said calmly, opening an exquisite lapis lazuli snuff box and taking an insouciant pinch. "The fact remains, however. Now, I suggest you resume your seat before I am obliged to encourage you to do so."

He waited until the reluctant, furious figure had obeyed before continuing. "If you will not seek the protection of your G.o.dfather you will have to endure mine. Why do you not wish to remain in France?"

"I hate France," the mutinous voice spat. "You forget, perhaps, milord," she layed sarcastic stress on the t.i.tle, "that I have lived here both as an aristocrat and as a starving peasant. I wish to pursue neither role again. Besides," the rebellious note of an aggrieved child left the soft voice suddenly to be replaced by a thoughtful consideration, "the role of 'aristo' is going to be a dangerous one across the land in a short time-only those idiots do not realize it!"

"I will not argue with you on that score." Linton sat back, legs extended beneath the table as he regarded this troublesome acquisition. He had never been one for the infantry, although his sister's children unfortunately seemed not to be aware of this fact as they lavished unwanted attentions on their favorite uncle. But this frequently ill-mannered brat carried an air of practical and intellectual sophistication totally at odds with her aggressive manner, though perhaps not so much at odds with her near unbelievable success at survival. Not for the first time, it occurred to the earl that once her safety was ensured the horrors she had lived through would surface in all their grisly detail. But Danielle de St. Varennes appeared to have an adamantine will and a sense of humor to match. With the right care she would come through. Whether the Earl and Countess of March were the right people to deal with the break when it came was a moot point. Kind and gentle to a fault, they would undoubtedly receive their granddaughter with open arms, but a strong hand would be needed to hold the reins. Linton was unaware of the deep frown drawing his thick arched eyebrows together as he pondered the situation until Danielle spoke again with quiet dignity.

"Lord Linton, I am, as I'm sure you are aware,at something of a disadvantage. I have no clothes."

"I would hardly dignify what you were wearing by that name," her companion said with an amused quirk of an eyebrow.

"Perhaps not. However, they did cover me. This"-she indicated the s.h.i.+rt contemptuously-"would hardly service me on the street."

"Indeed not," he concurred smoothly, giving not an inch.

"You do not think, perhaps, that you have an obligation to replace those you so roughly tore from my back?" A sweet smile accompanied the question.

"I accept the obligation, infant, but also the right to provide what I see fit."

They were fencing now and Danielle's eyes narrowed slightly. "I think, sir, that if you cannot return my original garments you have the obligation to replace them with their like. I am sure the landlord could be of service, for a consideration, and any expenses you may incur would, of course, be reimbursed once I reach my grandparents' house, so you need have no fear of being out of pocket."

The earl's eyes gleamed appreciatively. "A hit, infant!"

"So, what is your answer, milord?"

"My answer is very simple. Are you suggesting that having scooped their granddaughter from the gutters of Paris I could with any honor face the Earl and Countess of March if, after a meal, a bath, and some new clothes, I simply returned her from whence she came?"

That aspect of the situation had been lamentably absent from Danielle's well-planned scheme.

"I do see that it might be a problem," she began with careful understanding. "You do not think you could ... forget. .. that we met?"

"Forget you, Daniellede St. Varennes! What an absurd idea! Once met, my child, I fear you will engrave yourself into the memory of every unfortunate who happens into your path."

"That, sir, does not sound altogether complimentary. Danielle bit a suddenly tremulous lip.

"I'm not sure it was intended to be so," the earl said with a rueful grimace. "Come, child, you have had enough for one day, if not for many weeks. Into bed with you and we will work out a plan to suit both you and my self-appointed guardians.h.i.+p in the morning."

"But where am I to sleep?" Danielle's eyes widened in horror-struck amazement.

"There's a bed behind you," her companion informed her evenly.

"And you?" It was barely a whisper.

"You are quite safe, infant. I could no more face your grandparents with honor having breached your maidenhead than I could having tossed you back into the gutter."

"No, I suppose you could not," she said matter-of-factly, totally rea.s.sured by his logic and just as much unaware of the devastating effect her prosaic agreement had on the Earl of Linton's sangfroid.

"But where will you sleep?" The question carried only interest. "Those chairs do not look very comfortable."

"I do not intend to spend an uncomfortable night," Linton rea.s.sured on a choke of laughter. "I do, however, suggest that you do as you are bid. You may sleep until you wake."

That was an almost forgotten luxury, as were the feather mattress and the soft, well-laundered sheets. Linton tucked the small, exhausted figure into the large bed with an unexpected efficiency that should have been born of practice-except that it wasn't-and it was a rather puzzled man who drew the curtains around the bed and pulled the bell cord for the ready servants. He remained in the room as the remnants of dinner were removed, ignored the occasional inquisitive glances toward the enclosed bed, and, when finally the tapers had been lit and the room was at rights again, went over to his ward. She was unconscious in a deep and, it was to be hoped, healing sleep. Linton quietly left the chamber, turning a heavy key in the lock outside and pocketing it before making his way into the night-darkened streets of Paris. He hoped the child would not wake and try the door. His intention was not to frighten her; the lock was to keep inquisitive souls out rather than his urchin in.

Chapter 3 The lanes were unusually quiet as the earl, sunk in thought, picked his way carefully, avoiding the slime running in the gutters and the piles of filth sullying even the broader streets. A brooding, restless atmosphere seemed to permeate the city as its inhabitants awaited the arrival of deputies from across the land to attend, as representatives of the Commons (the Third Estate), the States General, summoned by Louis XVI for the first time in over a century and a half. High hopes that this meeting of parliament would both address and redress the evils of poverty and injustice under which the peasant population of France labored were mingled with a sense of helplessness. When the peasant representatives were outvoted two to one by the n.o.bility and the clergy was it reasonable to hope for change? The Earl of Linton thought not. Danielle's story of the uprising in Languedoc was one of several that had filtered through into the towns. Panic and rumor were beginning to spread, foreshadowing the "grande peur" that would sweep the country by July.

A sudden movement to his left caught his eye. It seemed innocent enough-a figure disappearing into an alleyway just ahead of him-but his well-honed instincts for danger were instantly aroused. He gave no sign, however, unless one could see the sudden tightening of the slender fingers around the silver-mounted cane. As he reached the opening to the alley Linton moved outward into the middle of the street, thus ensuring open s.p.a.ce at his back and room for maneuver that he would not have had in the shadow of the high courtyard wall bordering the narrow paved street. As the three men jumped out of the dark alley he swung to face them, raising the cane which was now a deadly weapon, a wicked sword blade flas.h.i.+ng at its tip. A swift movement and one of his a.s.sailants fell back, clutching an arm which seemed split from shoulder to wrist by ail ugly, bleeding gash. A cudgel cleaved the air above the earl's head and came down harmlessly as he sidestepped with the quick dancing movement of an expert swordsman. His opponent, caught off balance, could not evade the blade as it sank deep into his shoulder and he fell groaning into the dirt. The third man, after one look at his disabled companions and the calm, expressionless face of their intended victim who was quite clearly not the easy mark they had thought him, decided that discretion was decidedly the better part of valor and fled. Linton wiped his blade on the jacket of the man at his feet, an expression of distaste curling the fine lips. The sword stick became a cane again and he continued toward his destination.

"Ah, my friend, I had almost given you up." The Comte de Mirabeau turned to greet Linton as he was ushered by a blue-liveried lackey into a luxurious, book-lined library on the first floor of a stylish Parisian town house, set behind high walls on the rue de Richelieu.

"The streets are becoming a trifle dangerous, Mirabeau," the earl commented calmly, accepting a gla.s.s of claret.

The other man nodded. "They will be even more so if the States General proves as ineffective as I fear it may."

Linton sipped his wine with an appreciative nod. "You still intend to sit with the Third Estate?"

"I do and Orleans also. But what brings you here, my friend. Your message was unspecific, to say the least."

"A little unofficial information-gathering," the earl replied, reposing his powerful frame in a small, exquisitely carved chair, crossing one smooth silk-stockinged leg over the other. 'Traveling without one's valet is d.a.m.nably inconvenient," he murmured, examining the unblemished sheen of a buckled shoe through his quizzing gla.s.s. "Do you not think the left buckle is just the merest bit tarnished, Mirabeau?"

The count laughed. "Play the dandy with someone else, Justin. I am not to be fooled. What information are you after?"

The earl lowered his quizzing gla.s.s with a regretful sigh. "There is much concern in my government about your affairs, mon ami. Our two countriesare separated, after all, by only the narrowest strip of water. What happens in France touches us nearly. Pitt is a man who likes to be forewarned."

"Ah yes-he is a man of sound judgment, your prime minister," Mirabeau observed. "If only France were as lucky."

"We too have had our Civil War, our revolution," Linton reminded him gently.

"True enough," the other man agreed. "So you are here to carry back firsthand your impressions and what information you can gather?"

"Correct. So far, I have only a black picture. I was hoping you might relieve it a little."

"Alas, Justin, I cannot. You have heard tales of the 'jacquerie' beginning in the villages?"

"I have heard firsthand of one today." The earl told Danielle's story, omitting only the ident.i.ty of his source and the fact that at this moment that source was soundly sleeping in his bed at the Inn of the Rooster.

"The de St. Varennes, one cannot help feeling, have received only their just desserts," Mirabeau commented with a heavy sigh. "And they are not the only ones. But the whole family, did you say?"

"As far as I know," Linton replied. The lie was smooth and, for the moment, necessary. Danielle's survival would be revealed much later, when she was safely ensconced with her relatives in Cornwall. Her adventures must at all costs be kept secret if her reputation was to survive untarnished. Society, even in the face of catastrophe, remained hypocritically censorious and there would be neither understanding nor acceptance for a maiden who had roamed the byways of France as a half-starved beggar in boy's clothes.

The two men talked for another hour before Linton rose to take his leave. "One small favor, my friend?" he asked suddenly.

"Anything" was the ready response.

"I need a suit of clothes for a servant lad, a very small boy, about this tall." The earl gestured with a considering frown.

"What a very strange request." Mirabeau laughed in puzzlement. "If I did not know you as well as I do, my friend, I would a.s.sume you had developed some . . . um . . . odd predilections!"

Lord Linton laughed too, but without much humor. "I can a.s.sure you that the case is quite the opposite. Somewhere in your household you must have a servant who could be relieved, for a consideration of course, of his second best suit of clothes."

Mirabeau rang a small gold handbell and explained his friend's needs to the inscrutable footman who had instantly responded to the summons. The extraordinary request was carried into the far depths of the vast mansion and within a remarkably short time the earl was presented with a packet and an apologetic explanation that the household contained no one quite as small as His Lords.h.i.+p had described but it was hoped that these would suffice. Coins exchanged hands as Linton a.s.sured the lackey, after a quick examination, that they would do quite well. A chair was summoned, the earl having decided that he did not wish to risk another such incident as had occurred on his way by again walking alone through the streets, and he was borne in relative comfort and all bub immoderate speed by strong-armed carriers back to the Inn of the Rooster.

Mine Host, in nights.h.i.+rt, was hovering to receive his returning guest and responded with a deep bow to the demand for a truckle bed in My Lord's chamber. His place was not to question the whims of n.o.bility and if Milord Linton chose to share his apartments with a backstreet waif that was his business. It was certainly interesting, though, and an explanation similar to that hinted earlier by the Comte de Mirabeau flashed through his mind.

The earl, well aware of his host's suspicions, went upstairs, silently bemoaning the slur on his reputation. The chamber was quiet as he entered, lit dimly by a single taper and the embers of a dying fire. A quick glance behind the bed curtains a.s.sured him that his urchin was still deeply asleep. She appeared by her position not to have stirred in his absence.

Sitting at the writing desk, sharpening a quill with quiet concentration, Linton began a letter to the Earl of March, pausing only to bid entrance to the servants with the truckle bed, instructing them to set it up in the far corner of the chamber. Alone again, he sanded the two sheets of paper covered in close black script and read the missive through. Unwilling to go into too much detail, he had described the incident at Languedoc in bald, unadorned phrases, stated simply that he would bring their granddaughter to them as fast as traveling conditions permitted, and enjoined his lords.h.i.+p's absolute secrecy until he could explain the situation in full and in person. It would have to do, although it would undoubtedly give rise to more questions than it satisfied. A messenger traveling alone on horseback would accomplish the journey several days faster than the earl and his charge could and the Earl and Countess of March would at least be alerted to their granddaughter's arrival. He left the letter on the desk. Time enough to find a messenger in the morning.

Linton prepared himself for sleep, turning back the covers on the truckle bed before drawing aside the bed curtains. Danielle lay curled on her side, facing away from him. Very gently he pulled back the covers and then swore under his breath. The s.h.i.+rt had become tangled around her waist revealing the soft curves of quite the prettiest little bottom. Grim-faced, Linton hastily disentangled the material, pulling it down to cover the entrancing sight before sliding his arms beneath the still sleeping figure. As he lifted her, Danielle's eyes shot open and she gazed in shock and fear at the impa.s.sive face above her. For one petrifying moment she had no idea where she was until a calm remembered voice spoke with brisk rea.s.surance.

"Do not be afraid, child. I'm going to put you into another bed. It's a little small for me," he added dryly. "And I do not see why I should spend the night with my feet hanging over the end."

The large hrown eyes closed again instantly and he felt an absurd urge to kiss the paper thin, blue-veined lids. Resolutely he bent and laid the sleeping figure on the narrow cot, pulling the covers over her. She flipped instantly onto her side again, drawing her knees up to her chin. Trying very hard not to think of what must have happened to the s.h.i.+rt as a result of that maneuver, Justin, Earl of Linton, took himself to his body-warmed, rumpled bed.

The arrival of his shaving water and the heady aroma of strong coffee heralding the coming of breakfast awoke him after what seemed like a very short night. Once the bustle in the chamber had died away, he pushed aside the bed curtains and got yawning to his feet. The mound on the truckle bed stirred.

"Are you awake, Danny?"

"No" came the m.u.f.fled response.

"Good. Then perhaps you would stay that way until I'm dressed." A slight smile tugged fleetingly at his lips as he drew on the fine hose and perfectly tailored buckskin riding britches. He must remember to ensure in their future resting places that the room was equipped with a dressing screen.

Padding s.h.i.+rtless on stockinged feet he went over to the dresser. Seating himself before the mirror and his shaving water he carefully sharpened the broad blade of the razor on the leather strop before beginning to remove his overnight beard.

"Why are you traveling without your valet?" The sudden question startled him and he nicked his chin,

closing his mouth on the oath that had sprung readily to his lips.

"You are supposed to be asleep," he declared irritably. "Don't you know better than to talk to someone whilst they are shaving?"

"Well, you see, I have never seen anyone shaving before," Danielle apologized.

The earl wiped his face with a dampened towel and turned around. His observer was sitting up in bed, hugging her knees, regarding him with mischievous interest.

"And I suppose you've never seen a man without his s.h.i.+rt before," Linton muttered.

"Oh no, I have seen that often," she a.s.sured him cheerfully. "On the estate, you know? Particularly in the

summer."

"Well, that's very fortunate," His Lords.h.i.+p observed dryly. "I should hate to shock your maidenly sensibilities."

"Do you really think I have any?" the voice gurgled merrily.