Page 62 of Lord Appleby's Gorgeous Imposter
“No, monsieur. He said goodbye to me in a most formal way days ago, and I had the impression I was not to ask where he went or why, and not to expect to ever see him again.”
Then, to Tate’s surprise, he said, “But I am glad you have come here. Do you need money, monsieur?”
Tate was flummoxed. “Why do you ask?”
“Monsieur le Vicomte told me if you called, or if two other gentlemen who are his friends came here, and you needed coin, I should give it to you. Come with me, monsieur.”
The man promptly took him to his own apartment beyond the formal foyer and extracted from a large wall safe some gold coin. “For your escape, monsieur. Vicomte Ramsey took what he needed, and you are to have a share, too.”
Tate was grateful for the gold, which he would use if he had to. It could substitute for any failure of French francs. Not everyone, especially peasants, liked paper money. They distrusted hard-coin francs too, marked though they were with the visage of the French first consul. Tate shook his head. Abad thing, when one led a country where even the money was distrusted.
“One thing more before you go, monsieur,” the majordom bade him. “If you need more help of any kind, le vicomte told me to remind you of another upon whom you may call. That is the man who was the majordom of your other friend, Comte de Ashley.”
Kane’s butler, whom he and Ram had trusted implicitly, was Corsini, an Italian of many talents and many friends. “Merci beaucoup, monsieur.” Tate paused and smiled, of a sudden remembering Kane’s advice about whom to trust—Corsini, Countess Nugent, and Madame St. Antoine. He’d call upon them all for help, if need be.
Tomorrow, Tate decided, he would go to Kane’s former home in rue Saint-Honoré and learn if Corsini was still in residence. He went home straight away, ordered up supper on a tray in his sitting room, then sat down to compose a long letter to Countess Nugent. In it, he introduced to her the actress Charmaine Massey and told of the young woman’s desire to learn more about the fate of her sister, who may have been sent to Carmes Prison. If Diane had been there, might she also have been there at the same time as the countess? Tate appealed to the lady’s love of justice to receive Charmaine and tell her any details she might know.
The woman had made a reputation for herself in London and in Paris. She was once the young mistress of the Prince of Wales, but that man had married her off to a sickly, simple-minded creature, all to cover the prince’s infatuation with the nubile young girl. Soon after the marriage, the countess disappeared from court. Many speculated as to the cause.
But many months later and a widow, she appeared in Paris. Suddenly she was the talk of the town—and the mistress of the Duc d’Orleans. That man, though a Bourbon close to the throne,increasingly voiced liberal causes. Later dubbed Philippe Égalité for his sentiments, he nonetheless was carted off by Robespierre to the guillotine. She was sent to Carmes.
But her friendship with Josephine Beauharnais saved her…and her young charge, a girl Cecily had saved from her parents’ poisoned marriage. The girl was Mademoiselle Amber Gaynor, later to wed and become Madame St. Antoine. That lady was the one Tate had met at the theater that night he discovered Viv acting as Charmaine.
Countess Nugent had long been heralded as a beauty. But she was also wily enough to befriend dutifully those in power. She also saved her reputation by never openly consorting with any other men—and saving the fortunes her two famous lovers had bestowed upon her. She was, despite war, famine, and inflation, a woman worth millions.
That night, when the play closed, Tate was at Viv’s dressing room door to escort her home. At Viv’s house, she took him straight away to her suite.
“My men surround your house and mine. No one comes in or out whom we do not know,” he’d assured her as he slid off her creamy silk negligee and led her to her bed. There they took down each other’s clothes and made long, slow love to each other. He slept as fitfully as Viv, worried about the details of escaping Paris. She, however, pondered what she had learned from the scullery maid. Her contemplation was dark, and he knew in his heart he must not probe, nor lure her from it. The maze of her relationship with her half-sister was a journey only she could take. She must find her own way. Tate knew she would.
*
The next morning,he finished his coffee, stood, and bent over Viv as she remained at her breakfast table. He raised her chin and dropped a warm kiss to her lips.
The night had been theirs, sweet and intimate, the newly found refuge from the storm of their past and their present. The morning, however, swiftly brought their attention to the details of their departure.
He cupped her cheek. “I go to find a man who will help us leave the country quickly. I will return to you when I can.”
Viv loved the shelter of his arms, but knew she should not deter him. “Yet if Countess Nugent arrives, you will want to be here.”
“I do, but if I am not, so be it. Those things you need to know from her, you must ask. Then report to me later, when I return.” He put his lips to hers once more, his kiss the vital reassurance of a new life for them both. “Ask her for all the details. Anything you want to know. I think the lady will be forthcoming. She has not survived the terrors of this country’s violence without a clear vision of others and herself.”
*
He returned tohis own house to oversee its closure. He double-checked that Kane had departed Paris. He went to Ramsey’s, too, but that man had not returned to his house.
His friends were truly gone. It was time he and Viv left France.
But first, they would wait for a response from Countess Nugent.
He prayed they would get one—and quickly.
*
After Tate lefther, Viv bathed and dressed. She spoke with an upstairs maid when a footman hurried in. He brought on a silver salver a rectangular parchment, fragrant with a perfume of freesias and roses.
At once, Viv broke the seal on the letter. The letter fell open. The fine script confirmed that the correspondent was a lady of repute.
*
