Seventeen
Gregory could only stare at the poor woman disbelievingly. “But if you weren’t bent on gaining Prince Leopold for yourself, then why were you so obsessed with his interest in Aurore?” Even as the words left his mouth, the truth dawned on him. “Ah—you saw him as your rival for the princess’s affections.”
Lady Ursula nodded through her sobs, her face wracked in a private agony he could well imagine, given his own obsession with Monique.
Meanwhile, Monique just gaped at him. “I don’t understand. I know that she loves Aurore, but—”
“It’s not a sisterly kind of love, ma chérie,” Gregory explained. It still amazed him how naïve and unworldly Monique could be sometimes. “She’s in love with Aurore.”
In his line of work, it wasn’t unheard of. Granted, it was slightly more common for men to be enamored of other men, but he’d certainly encountered women who loved women in a romantic way.
Though many of his peers found such a love distasteful, he wasn’t one of them. Too many years skirting the edges of society as he performed the tasks of his dark, secretive business had taught him that there were all kinds of love in the world. And given his own past crimes, he could hardly throw stones at someone for the “crime” of loving a person of the same sex.
Lady Ursula fought to compose herself. “I—I love Aurore as . . . as another woman might love a m-man.” She met Gregory’s gaze. “I’ve loved her for years.”
The look on Monique’s face told him she comprehended now. “That’s why you begged not to be forced to leave her. Why you resisted coming here.”
The lady-in-waiting bobbed her head. “She was ill. I wanted to stay with her and take care of her.” Her voice hardened. “But of course the count wouldn’t allow it. He and Aurore’s mother have never approved of our . . . friendship.”
“You mean, they know?” Gregory put in.
“Not everything,” Lady Ursula admitted. “They think we’re merely too close, that I’m the one who influenced her to refuse Leopold.” She brushed tears from her cheeks. “And I suppose that’s true. But I didn’t convince her of anything she didn’t already feel. She didn’t want him.” A softness entered her voice. “She wants me.”
“So she shares your feelings?” Gregory asked.
Lady Ursula nodded. “We . . . we have been in love for years.” She sighed. “Not that anything can come of it. We could never rule Chanay together the way she would like. Still, she remains adamant that she will have no man for a husband. That she loves only me.” She cast Monique a helpless glance. “I’m sorry—I should have told you, but I thought . . . I was afraid—”
“That I wouldn’t understand.” Monique flashed her a wan smile. “I confess that I really don’t. But that doesn’t mean you’re wrong. What I still don’t comprehend is why were you pushing to have the prince come here if not to gain him for yourself?”
Lady Ursula shrugged. “I needed to find out why he was considering renewing his suit to Aurore. She’d refused him because unlike some men she might marry, Leopold would never countenance a wife who—”
“Was in love with someone else,” Gregory finished.
“Exactly. I know him well enough to be sure of that.” She scowled. “So I honestly thought he and Aurore had parted ways for good. Then Mr. Danworth told me that Leopold was interested in approaching Aurore again.”
“Wait a minute,” Gregory broke in. “I thought Danworth was asking you to confirm Leopold’s interest.”
She blinked. “Why would he ask me? I mean, Leopold and I are related and were friends long ago, but I have only seen him a few times since he took up residence in England. I assumed that Danworth knew something I didn’t, since Danworth knows him better, is friendly with him.”
It was Gregory’s turn to be shocked. “What do you mean, ‘friendly’?”
Lady Ursula shrugged. “They’ve known each other for years. I believe they became boon companions after Leopold married Princess Charlotte.”
His mind reeling, Gregory roamed the room and tried to make sense of her claims. There was a close connection between Danworth and Leopold? Hard to believe. Then again, Gregory had still been at university at the time—it wasn’t as if he could have known.
So what was Danworth’s game now? Why would he lie and say he wanted to confirm the “rumors” about Leopold renewing his interest in Aurore if all he’d had to do was ask Leopold?
Unless Danworth thought that stirring such rumors would make Leopold a more attractive candidate. Which begged the question—how far would Danworth go to help his friend?
Would he stoop to murder? It seemed unlikely. What could he gain from it except Leopold’s gratitude? That was rather far to go for such a thing.
Still, the merest possibility of it made Gregory uneasy.
Lady Ursula was watching him with avid interest. “What about the count? Does he know about your . . . past association with Monique?”
Damn. Now he had to explain all that.
“Of course not,” Monique said. “If he did, I’d already be headed back to Dieppe. And you mustn’t tell him, either. It wasn’t my fault that his lordship met me before I came here. I’ve done everything my uncle asked, and my grandmother deserves her reward.”
“Absolutely,” Lady Ursula said in a placating tone. “If you keep my secret about Aurore from him, I will keep yours.”
That reminded Gregory of something. “Are you sure that Beaumonde is unaware of the full extent of your feelings for the princess? Is it possible he’s hoping to put Monique in Aurore’s place because Aurore refuses to marry?”
Lady Ursula gaped at him. “Then why have someone shoot at Monique?”
“Good point.” Gregory scrubbed a hand over his face. Today’s attempt had rattled him so much, he wasn’t thinking straight. “It’s unlikely there are two assassins—one for Aurore and one for Monique.”
Lady Ursula smoothed her skirts. “And you’re assuming that Aurore’s illness was caused by poison. It might just be cholera.”
Gregory stared her down. “You don’t believe that, and neither do I. It’s too much of a coincidence that someone would make two attempts on Monique’s life no more than two weeks after Princess Aurore falls deathly ill.”
“True.” Worry furrowed Lady Ursula’s forehead. “But I don’t see how anyone could have poisoned her. We were always with her.”
Monique went to sit beside the woman. “It would be easy enough to slip something into even a princess’s food, especially in a hotel. And how would you know?”
As usual, Monique went right to the heart of the matter. Gregory stared at the lady-in-waiting. “Is there anything that Princess Aurore preferred to drink or eat that no one else generally partook of?”
Lady Ursula shook her head, then paused. “Actually, she did always like hot chocolate before bed.” She lifted her gaze to him. “But I was the one to fetch it.”
“And who gave it to you?”
“Someone in the hotel’s kitchen.”
“The same person every night?” he prodded.
“We were only there one night before Aurore fell ill.” Lady Ursula frowned. “But come to think of it, the kitchen maid who gave it to me wasn’t there the next evening when I went to fetch wine for Aurore in hopes that it would settle her stomach. Indeed, I never saw the maid again.”
Gregory nodded grimly. “There you go. Find that maid, and we find who poisoned Aurore. Or was paid to poison her.”
Lady Ursula had gone deathly pale. “That means I was the one to hurt Aurore!” She burst into tears. “I—I put the p-poison in her hands m-myself!”
Monique laid her arm around the woman’s shoulders. “You couldn’t have known what was in the chocolate. It wasn’t your fault.”
Pacing the room, Gregory thought through everything they knew so far. “I somehow doubt that even the maid knew fully what she was doing. She was probably paid by someone. And the assassin hung around until he got word that Aurore was ill. Then he likely saw no point in remaining there to watch her die.”
“If that’s true,” Monique said, “he must have been shocked to see me show up at the conference.”
“Indeed,” Gregory said. “Which would explain why he then set out to kill you. He thinks you’re Aurore. He thinks she survived somehow, and he’s trying to finish what he started.”
“Even if he knows I’m not Aurore,” Monique said, “he might want me gone to make sure no one from Chanay takes the Belgian throne.”
“No,” Gregory said firmly. “If he knew about the masquerade, he could just expose you and be done with it. So he has to be operating under the assumption that you’re Aurore. It’s her he’s trying to eliminate.”
He faced the two women with a scowl. “Which is why, Monique, you have to withdraw from the conference and return to Dieppe. Make up some excuse for why you no longer want to be ruler of Belgium. It’s too dangerous for you to keep playing Aurore.”
“You know I can’t do that!” she cried as she jumped up.
He gestured in Lady Ursula’s direction. “You don’t owe her and the count anything. For all we know, Beaumonde was perfectly aware that Aurore had been poisoned, which is why he put you in her place.”
“That’s not true!” Lady Ursula rose to face him. “I didn’t know, and I’m almost certain he didn’t, either. Cholera is running rampant across the Continent, so we assumed that she contracted it along with everyone else.”
“Yet no one else in your party has fallen ill,” he ground out.
Lady Ursula glanced away. “That doesn’t mean that she was poisoned. Count de Beaumonde hopes every day for her recovery from the disease. I have heard him say so.”
“And he never lies.” Gregory snorted his disbelief. “Do you think he really wants to watch his great-niece rule Chanay—or Belgium—without an heir? He’s too much of a politician not to know about Aurore’s intention never to marry. And he would not allow that.”
“You’re wrong!” Lady Ursula insisted. “He’s Aurore’s uncle first. He wouldn’t wish to see her hurt.”
“To be honest, I don’t care what happens to Aurore,” he said hoarsely. “I only care about Monique.” The vehemence in his words seemed to catch both women off guard.
Not surprising, since it damned well shocked him. But he pressed on, forcing coldness into his tone to hide the terror swirling in his blood. “And if she continues in this masquerade, she risks her very life. I won’t allow it. It would put a permanent stain on these proceedings.” He dragged in a heavy breath. “So if she doesn’t abandon her masquerade and return to Dieppe, then you both force me to expose her.”
Monique only stared at him with a look of pure betrayal, but Lady Ursula cried, “You can’t! If you do, it will ruin the count and me and Aurore, not to mention Monique. We’ll be mocked by all of Europe. And Chanay will never recover from the embarrassment.”
“Embarrassment!” he cried. “Do you not understand? Monique could die, for God’s sake. She nearly died today. And I refuse to stand by and watch her murdered!”
A rap came at the door, startling all of them.
“What is it?” he barked.
There was a moment’s silence, before a timid voice said, “Captain Lord Hartley is here to see you, my lord.”
Gregory fought to steady his pounding heart. “It’s about bloody time,” he growled as he strode for the door and swung it open, making the footman jump. “Put him in my study, and tell him I shall be there directly.”
He doubted that Hart had anything substantial to add to his information, but at least the man could confirm how much of what Monique had told him was the truth.
Not that Gregory didn’t believe her. He clearly had gone far beyond insanity, because he believed every word out of her mouth.
Though he still wasn’t entirely sure he could trust the rest of the group from Chanay. Turning on the women, who stood together as if preparing to fight him, he ordered, “Stay here. We’re not done with this discussion. Do you understand me?”
Eyes widening, they nodded.
And with his temper thoroughly roused, he marched out.
As soon as Gregory was gone, Monique sank onto the settee. “What shall we do? He’ll ruin everything.”
Lady Ursula sat down and took her hand. “I don’t think so. It’s clear he cares about you too much to do that.”
Monique wished she could believe the woman. But Gregory’s threats had struck a chill to her soul. “He wants me in his bed, that’s all. Once he gains that, he’ll pack me off to Dieppe without a thought, the way he has packed his mother off here to run his estate without him.” A thickness clogged Monique’s throat. “His lordship . . . doesn’t like to let people too close.”
“Really?” Lady Ursula squeezed her hand. “He kept your secret all this time when he didn’t have to.”
“Only because he wasn’t sure it was me.”
She snorted. “Perhaps. But he could have confronted the three of us privately, and he didn’t.”
I risk my ambition more with every hour I let this masquerade go on. Even if I did agree to your terms and keep silent, I can’t prevent someone else’s unmasking you. And if it comes out that I knew the truth and didn’t speak, I’ll be ruined.
Monique shook off the tantalizing thought that he’d kept silent out of concern for her. “He behaved cautiously, as he always does, probably to avoid the risk of being wrong. His future in politics is at stake, apparently.”
“Still, I saw real terror on his face when he spoke of not letting you be murdered. I think he cares more than you know. Perhaps even more than he will admit.”
Monique stared down at their joined hands. “Even if he does, it makes no difference. Gregory—” She caught herself. “Lord Fulkham could never marry me. I am one of those actresses beyond the pale whom he spoke of at dinner last night.”
“I don’t know; I think you’re wrong. But if you’re not . . .” Lady Ursula sighed. “We must find a way to convince him not to expose you.”
“I can’t imagine how. I already offered to share his bed in exchange for his silence.”
“My dear!” Lady Ursula cried, clearly shocked. “I should hope there’s no need to do that. Unless you really want to join with him, of course.”
She avoided Lady Ursula’s penetrating gaze. “I—I wouldn’t mind so much, actually.” Oh, who was she fooling? She would eagerly share his bed, if only to experience the thrill of having been his, even for a short while. “But he refused my offer. He said that bedding me as some sort of . . . payment for his acquiescence in the masquerade would be akin to rape.”
“Did he? Interesting.” Lady Ursula looked pensive. “It appears that our ruthless Lord Fulkham is actually a gentleman when it comes to women. I suppose I should believe it, given what they say about him.”
“What do they say?”
“That he has no mistress, which is odd for a bachelor. But apparently his position in the foreign office takes precedence over anything else.” She leaned close. “And Mr. Danworth says he’s been looking for a wife to cement his future.”
“Of course he has.” A quick flash of pain hit her heart. If anyone knew about Gregory’s ambition, it was she.
“But that’s mostly idle gossip. You know how rumors start in society.”
Monique knew how they started in the theater, and she doubted that society was much different. But she also knew that a man like Gregory had to have a wife . . . one who was respectable.
Then something else Lady Ursula had said struck her. She stared at the lady-in-waiting. “Why do you call him ‘ruthless’?”
Lady Ursula shrugged. “The count says he has a reputation for doing whatever it takes to achieve his political goals.” She leaned close to whisper, “I’ve also heard it said that he is unofficially a spymaster.”
Monique gaped at her. “Really?”
“Supposedly he has any number of fellows who do his bidding, seeking out secrets and such.”
Her stomach sank. Gregory had practically said as much the last time he’d confronted her about her identity. And Lord Hartley was one of his spies. Still, he could scarcely have learned anything new about her in Dieppe. She’d already told Gregory everything.
She swallowed. That didn’t mean Lord Hartley couldn’t have uncovered some nasty gossip. There were plenty of untruths about her circulating in Dieppe—about her supposed lovers, about her supposed weakness for drink . . . all the vile things people said concerning actresses. What if Lord Hartley had encountered that sort of information and Gregory believed it?
A servant entered the room and bowed low. “His lordship would like to speak to you in his study, Princess.”
With her heart in her throat, Monique rose. “Of course.”
Lady Ursula stood as well. “I am not letting you face him alone.”
“Thank you.” The more she knew of Lady Ursula, the more she liked her. And she could use the moral support.
They followed the footman to Gregory’s study, but before they could be ushered inside, the door opened and a man came out. She instantly recognized the burly fellow with dark brown hair and a flirtatious smile.
“Mademoiselle Servais,” he said, bowing. “How good to see you again.”
She nodded stiffly. “Captain Lord Hartley. I hope your trip went well?”
Shuttering his features, he glanced from her to Lady Ursula. “Well enough.”
Monique swallowed. No telling what horrible things he’d dug up in Dieppe.
Gregory appeared in the doorway. “Come in,” he said, his expression tense.
That made her even more nervous.
As soon as she and Lady Ursula entered, he closed the door and turned to her, his eyes as icy as the frozen reaches of the far north. “When the hell were you going to tell me that you’re third in line for the throne of Chanay?”