Page 75 of Lord Ramsey's Red-Headed Ruin
The young maid, Marie, was at work unpacking Amber’s trunks and putting her clothes into the two tall matching bureaus.
“Madame, are you well?” Her sweet blue eyes ran over Amber’s features.
“I am.”I am not. I did not feel well this morning. Nerves ate me up. Worse, now I am imagining something silly.Her upset stomach was due to her abject fear of what she was about to do in the house of the man she’d grown to hate.
Now that she was here, she admitted to herself, she was very afraid.
“Shall I fetch you some tea?” the girl asked.
God, no. The worst thing I could want.“A mix of apple juice and ginger, perhaps?”
“At once. Will you sit down and wait?”
She did. As the girl hurried off to the kitchens, Amber sat replaying in her mind’s eye the scene of the footman and the tea.
Through her bedroom window, she watched the sun drift down to the edge of the earth and mourned all she had surrendered to come to the bedroom, this house, this terrible point in her life.
Today, she had missed her scheduled meeting with Ram in their little hidden cemetery in Montmartre. He would worry. He would wait. He would even investigate as much as he could. Which, really, was very limited. Vaillancourt let little slip from his house. Hell, that was why she was here. To steal from him.Just as he and his nefarious colleagues stole our peace and our very lives from me, my friends, and those like Diane Massey.
She shook off her doldrums.
Today was just one day she would miss her regular meeting with her charming Ram. She would go next week. Then she would share with him anything that she had learned here. Ram never asked how she had obtained it. He hated for her to ever describe it…and she would not. Nevertheless, dear man, he passed on again and again whatever information she learned.
She nestled into her plush chair and put up her feet on the cushions. Proud of what she and Ram did together, she could say she was pleased. She could never say she was happy. That was for another woman who loved another man, far from this terror. Far from this life she had created for herself. Here she would do as she must. For what she learned here would be so timely, so accurate, and so useful.
Scarlett in London would recognize it for its pristine value. After all, it came from the reliable source of Vaillancourt’s whore.
*
That night, Amberexcused herself from Vaillancourt’s dinner guests right after dessert and took the stairs to her rooms.
She had not seen the footman with the wine pour hers. He had his back to her, and her wine tasted…odd.
She had just stumbled past her sitting room toward the bed when Vaillancourt burst through the connecting door to his suite.
“What in hell are you doing? Trying to disgrace me in front of my guests?”
A hand to her forehead, she swayed before him. “Don’t. I—”
She sagged.
He caught her up his arms and set her down on her bed. “Ma chérie, you perspire.”
She stared up at him. His face swam before her eyes. His features, so classic and elegant, could have marked a dashingly handsome man. But Rene Vaillancourt was no heroic figure. Enthralled by his own power, he had ruined so many over the years, including many she knew, imprisoning so many, abusing them. Innocent victims.And I am just your obsession. Your symbol of revenge against Maurice…and Ram.“I don’t feel well. I could not go on, Rene…”
The anger drained from his face. He loved it when she addressed him by his given name, as if she truly cared for him. She smiled, a pitiful thing. Such a false illusion that was. He took crumbs. She hadn’t meant to give them only to persuade him to leave her alone.
“What can I do,ma belle femme?”
“My maid. Get her.” The girl was so solicitous. And for a reason Amber could not explain other than instinct, she trusted her. “I want to get these clothes off.”
“I can—”
“No, no.” She didn’t want him touching her intimately in any way, not now, not ever. Certainly not when she felt so dreadful. “I cannot. I will be ill and ruin your clothes, Rene. Get me Marie,s’il vous plaît.”
He kissed her forehead, his lips cold and hard. A lizard’s fond regard.
She shivered.
