Page 10 of The Assassin and the Libertine
“Daphne, when he approached us, you were so rude to him I find it hard to believe you’re not secretly in love with him. I don’t blame you, of course. You deserve a little fun, especially after everything with Henri.” Her tone was light, but her eyes were full of sympathy.
I shook my head. “No,chérie. I’m afraid that the romantic part of me is simply gone.”
“So is he,” she added with levity. The room started to close in on me and I forced a wry laugh.
“Étienne isn’t my type, anyway! He is, perhaps,toohandsome, and he struts around like he knows it. I hear he’s had so many women—well, one mistress wouldn’t be enough to slake his appetite. Henri was just like that. One wife and one mistress were never enough. He had to screw half of Paris with that pathetic little worm of his. If I were to involve myself with another man—which is unlikely, so don’t get any of your matchmaking ideas—he would be sweet, soulful, and sensitive.”
“And hung like an ox,” Charlotte added.
I dissolved in a fit of laughter and threw a cushion at her. She dodged it and drained her teacup. My lady’s maid, Eve, came forward to refill it. Charlotte shook her head but placed a hand on her arm before she could leave.
“Eve, darling, do you hear anything from the other servants about the emissary’s household? What do we know of him?”
Eve shifted, casting her eyes in my direction. “Madame?”
“Come now, surely you’d be obliged to report anything that might have some bearing on Daphne taking him as a lover,” Charlotte pressed.
“Charlotte,” I warned.
“Any unnatural proclivities? Any madness or cruelty poisoning his mind and his household?”
An awkward silence settled over the room. Charlotte’s light manner belied her penetrating gaze, and Eve finally looked at me thoughtfully.
“Non, vraiment.I don’t know any dark secrets—he is a good master. I heard that much from mymaman, who knew the cook in the vicomte’s employ.”
Charlotte seized upon this like a cat on a mouse. “The former vicomte, you mean? The emissary’s father?”
Eve nodded.
“Why does the cook no longer work for the family?” Charlotte continued, then slapped her forehead. “Ah! I guess the emissary does not need to employ a cook. He let her go; I suppose.”
“Mais non!That was not the case. When Monsieur returned to Paris, he offered the staff a choice. They could stay and work for him, or leave with full references and a small stipend.”
“Why would they leave if they didn’t have to?” Charlotte asked.
Eve’s brows shot up. “Madame, he is a vampire! Most self-respecting servants would not want to serve such a master.”
“But the vicomte had already lost his title by then. Isn’t that more of a disgrace than succumbing to the blood plague?” I asked in astonishment.
Eve raised a shoulder. “The vicomte was beloved by his servants. The emissary did not expect that loyalty to extend to him after he was turned.”
I nodded, lost in thought. “Merci,Eve. As always, I am grateful for your candor. Go on and take your tea,chérie. Charlotte and I will be fine alone.”
She turned to go, just as Charlotte called after her.
“Eve, one more question before you depart. How many of the servants stayed on?”
“All but one or two, I believe,” Eve said. She curtsied and at my nod, left the room.
Charlotte turned a self-satisfied smile on me.
“You see? I amalwaysright,chérie. Now you can be assured that he isn’t some kind of rotten scoundrel. Well, perhaps a bit of a scoundrel, but only in the best way.”
“I fail to see how you’ve come to that conclusion,” I argued.
“He had the grace to offer an out to his father’s employees, but they all chose to remain with him. He cannot be a monster.”
Not a monster, only a possible murderer,I thought.
