Page 65 of The Secret of Flirting
“We’ll have no choice but to wait,” Gregory replied. “Guy Fawkes Day activities generally involve fire—burning the Guy in effigy, bonfires, the occasional fireworks. All of that is far more interesting when done and seen at night.”
“Fireworks!” Monique crowed. “I should love that!”
He cursed his quick tongue. “Sorry to disappoint you, but no fireworks here, I’m afraid.” It would be too easy for someone to shoot at her unnoticed with all the noise and smoke around. “We never have them,” he lied. “But we might be able to see the ones from Canterbury in the distance.”
Mother narrowed her gaze on him. She knew he was lying about the fireworks, but at least she was keeping quiet about it. Later he would tell her the real reason for his caution, if only to make sure she fell in line with all his plans. Though he hated to alarm her unduly.
“In any case,” he went on, “everyone will have the morning and afternoon to enjoy other pleasures on the estate. We’ve got fishing and—” He caught himself before he could say “shooting.” That wasn’t wise, either, under the circumstances. “Swimming. Also, the drives around the estate provide some lovely views. Or if you prefer to ride, I have a number of suitable mounts.”
Pontalba brightened. “That sounds most amiable. I do enjoy a stirring gallop.” He looked over at Monique. “What do you say, Princess? Shall we go for a ride in the morning?”
She flashed the duke a gorgeous smile. “I would be delighted, Your Grace. Her ladyship told me there’s a man-made waterfall on the grounds, and I should very much like to see it.”
Gregory was stewing over the idea that she actually meant to go off with the duke alone when his mother said, “And perhaps the count and Mr. Danworth would accompany me and Lady Ursula into Canterbury for some shopping.”
“Good God, Mother, Ijustsaid—”
“You also just said that nothing actually happens until late afternoon. Which is true. There will be a few ragged boys dragging their effigies around asking for a coin ‘for the Guy,’ but it’s not wild, the way it is in London. And since the two most important members of your party—the duke and the princess—are going riding, why shouldn’t we have a taste of town? We’ll come back before dinner.” She batted her eyelashes at the count. “That is, if the count is willing to accompany us.”
“I would be most honored,” Beaumonde said, and took her hand to kiss it.
Gregory bristled. What the devil was going on between his mother and the count? If the damned fellow thought that buttering up Mother would influence Gregory’s vote for Princess Aurore, he had another think coming.
“Actually,” Lady Ursula said from across the table, “I would much rather just stay in your lovely house, Lady Fulkham, if you don’t mind. You have quite an extensive library, and I’d like nothing more than to explore it.”
“Of course, if you wish.”
Hmm. Was Lady Ursula’s true reason for staying behind to make sure she got to see Prince Leopold alone? This got more curious by the moment.
“That leaves me,” Gregory said. “I suppose I’ll be going riding with Pontalba and the princess.”
“Don’t be silly,” Monique said, a hint of frost in her tone. “I’m sure you have many matters to take care of at the estate after your long absence from it.”
“Not so many that I can’t enjoy a rousing ride.” He lifted an eyebrow at Pontalba. “You don’t mind if I join you and Her Highness, do you, old chap?”
Pontalba blinked, obviously aware that he’d landed in the middle of something beyond his ken. “Certainly not. Fine by me.”
Damned arse hadbettersay that. Because Pontalba had to know that it was more important not to offend the undersecretary of the foreign office than to cozy up to the princess, no matter what the duke’s romantic interests.
“Then it’s settled,” Gregory said smoothly, ignoring Monique’s daggered glance. He was bloody wellnotletting her go off alone with anyone, no matter what the reason. He had to keep her safe.
This isn’t about keeping her safe, and you know it, his damned conscience said.This is about jealousy, pure and simple.
Perhaps. But he was not allowing her out of his sight if there was even a remote chance that something could happen to her. And that was that.
As she pled a headache and slipped out of the drawing room after dinner, Monique was seething. Between Gregory and her great-uncle, she felt like one of those mythical angels dancing on the head of a pin. One minute she had to pacify the count. The next minute she had to hold Gregory and his suspicions at bay. What in creation did theywantfrom her?
She snorted. She knew what Gregory wanted from her—a convenient mistress, no doubt. Once he exposed her, he knew she’d have nowhere to go but to him.
But then, why hadn’t he exposed her right away?
Because of his cursed ambition, that was all. He needed this conference to be successful.
I risk my ambition more with every hour I let this masquerade go on.
She knew that was true. He could have exposed her that first night, yet he hadn’t. And even after she’d offered him her body...
I told you I will not let you barter your body for my silence.
