Jane Feather - Charade by Unknown (howl and other poems .TXT) 📕

her leave, a tiny smile curlinghis lips. He stroked his angular chin thoughtfully and glanced up thetable to where Justin, Earl of Linton, sat, twirling his port glassabsently as he leaned back in his chair—perfectly at ease, it seemed, except for those shrewd blue black eyesthat were everywhere. They had also watched the departure of the youngcountess and the look they carried interested St. Estephe mightily.

The news that the Lintons were visiting the French court had broughthim hotfoot from his estate in

Dijon to meet his enemy for the firsttime. He had been waiting many years for the appropriate opportunity.Now, he moved his seat to a vacant one opposite the earl. "MilordLinton, I believe."

"Yes, indeed." Justin's eyebrows lifted in inquiry.

"St. Estephe, at your service, sir." The

comte

bowed his head,examining the earl's expression intently

for an unguarded flicker ofrecognition, but there was none. Either the man was a consummate actoror he did not know the story. "My father spoke often of yours," he saidmusingly. "They were good friends at one time, I believe."

Justin's face was a blank. "Forgive me,

comte.

My father died someeighteen years ago and I have a lamentable memory."

Not with those intelligent eyes, St. Estephe thought. But Linton lookedgenuinely apologetic so the

comte

shrugged and smiled. "Ah, well, itwas many years ago that they were friends. Before my own birth, Ibelieve, so it is hardly surprising. But I am most happy to make youracquaintance, my lord."

"And I yours," Linton replied automatically, wondering why he dislikedthe man after a mere ten minutes in his company. It wasn't just that hehad been put at an embarrassing disadvantage—the

comte

had rescued himfrom his predicament with impeccable courtesy after all. Perhaps it hadsomething to do

with that calculating gleam in those eyes so pale as toappear almost opaque.

St. Estephe, well satisfied, excused himself and went off to greetother acquaintances in the peripatetic fashion that was consideredquite

comme ilfaut

at thisstage of the dining ritual. He was one ofthe first to join the ladies in the long salon which remained dark andgloomy in defiance of the early summer evening. He made his obeisanceto his queen who lightly chided him for being so long absent fromcourt. The

comte

replied withthe acceptable mixture of regret andflattery before turning the conversation adroitly

to the Countess of Linton.

"Yes, she is a taking little thing," Marie Antoinette agreed. "Quitecharming and refreshingly naive. We

are enjoying her visit. They arehere to settle matters of her estate after her family was massacred . .. Well, we will not talk of such gloomy subjects; they do little tolighten the atmosphere in this dreary

place. Do you care for anintroduction?"

"Of all things, Madame."

"You should be warned, though." The queen smiled. "If you pay her tooclose attention, you will have Linton to reckon with. He regards herwith an unfashionably jealous eye. She is very young, you realize."

"I shall take great care," St. Estephe promised, but his heart sang atthis piece of information. The challenge would be greater and therevenge all the sweeter in those circumstances.

When the liveried flunky bowed beside the Countess of Linton with themessage that Her Majesty wished to speak with her, Danielle rose fromthe sofa with alacrity. She had been covertly watching the exchangebetween the

comte

and'Toinette and her ears were burning unmistakably.

"Madame." She curtsied deeply.

"I wish to present the Comte de St. Estephe, Danielle. He is most eagerto make your acquaintance."

"You do me too much honor, sir." She curtsied again and swam upward,giving him her hand.

"The honor is all mine, my lady." He was in the act of pressing hislips to the small hand in a manner rather more ardent than the ritualdemanded when Linton walked into the salon.

Justin frowned. What the deuce was the man doing slobbering all overDanny's fingers? And Danielle herself seemed to be enjoying it; judgingby the delicate flush on her cheeks and the musical peal of herunmistakable laughter. That his wife was a natural flirt did notordinarily disturb Linton in the least. It

was harmless enough and sheknew well how to freeze the gallant who stepped beyond the line ofdalliance. But the

comte

madehim as uneasy as the Chevalier D'Evronhad once done—the sense that

he was not just what he seemed.

Justin most definitely did not want his wife embroiled in undercoveradventuring with yet another of her aristocratic countrymen, howeverinnocent and worthy the cause. But he could not remove her from thequeen's side until she had been dismissed and Marie Antoinette appearedto be enjoying herself.

Danielle had chosen to play the part of ingenue during this visit tothe French court. It was one that provided a perfect mask for what shewas really about and people talked freely in front of the little de St.Varennes, who was such a sweet child with her innocent questions andnaive observations. The queen found her delightful and was now muchamused as the world-weary sophisticate played gently with the innocentwho tossed her head coquettishly and blushed prettily. The

comte

wasequally delighted—the child was making it so easy for him. He wouldturn her head tonight, be cool and distant tomorrow, and repeat theprocess until she knew nothing but a piqued confusion. The rest shouldbe simple . . .

"Madame." It was Linton's deep voice.

"Ah, Linton. Are you acquainted with the Comte de St. Estephe? He hasbeen amusing your wife quite wickedly."

"I am indeed grateful to you, St. Estephe," Justin said smoothly.Danielle's hand slipped into his and he smiled down at her. The lookthat the

comte

interceptedthrew that gentleman back on his heels. Itwas not, then, as he had thought. This was no marriage of conveniencebetween a man of middle years reluctantly accepting the family duty,and an eligible young aristocrat with many childbearing years

ahead ofher—a giddy young woman who could be persuaded of the dullness of herloveless marriage

and her entitlement to one brief fling:—

The

comte

decided that hemust