Page 83 of The Assassin and the Libertine
“No,” she bit out again.
“No trips to the country, or…”
Dieu,I was dying here. Madame Catherine regarded me like some kind of pest, which wasn’t something I was used to. Most of the women at court adored me—at least, they did before Daphne came into my life and I lost the desire to flirt with anyone else.
“No. I’m staying in Paris for the holiday with my aunt. She is in poor health and may pass on at any moment, if you must know,” she grumbled.
“Oh, I am sorry to hear that,” I said with a frown. Her aunt, a cranky, old duchesse, was well-known for her poor temperament and her obscene wealth. It was also well-known that she had no other living relations, which meant her entire estate would pass to Madame Catherine. There was no reason for her to steal anything.
I gave up trying to charm the widow and made my excuses. I was just looking for Daphne when I heard a familiar cutting voice.
“Bonsoir, ma bête.”
I turned and found myself face-to-face with the Marquise de Balay.
“Good evening, Henriette,” I said, returning her cold smile.
“I’m pleased to see you here tonight,” she continued. “Though a little surprised. I thought you would have tired of the duchesse by now. You’ve never been one for lengthy romantic pursuits.”
I opened my mouth to reply, but Daphne swirled to my side.
“Oh, Madame! I’m so glad you could join us this evening. But I’m afraid I don’t see your husband. Not out at the gaming tables again, is he?” she said with false sweetness.
The marquise looked like she wanted to strangle Daphne, but the look was gone in an instant. Her eyes darted to the necklace at Daphne’s throat, then back up.
“Madame,” she said, inclining her head. “He sends his apologies. I’m afraid he’s at home with a fearful attack of the gout.”
“That’s terrible news,” Daphne replied. “You must send him well wishes from my fiancé and I.” She wrapped a possessive hand around my arm, and I fought to keep the smirk from my lips.
A muscle in the marquise’s eye ticked.
“Of course,” she said. “I think I see the Cardinal over there. If you’ll excuse me.” She made a hasty retreat, and I could no longer keep my laughter in.
“I dare say you’ve made a powerful enemy there,” I murmured in Daphne’s ear.
“Tant pis,”she said with a shrug. “Did you see how she eyed the necklace? If she is the thief, I’m certain she’ll try to steal it tonight. If not for money, for revenge.”
The gong sounded for dinner, and we went through to the dining room. Each course smelled more delicious than the last, but I abstained from eating any of it. I would drink from Daphne later. I could eat regular food, but the flavors were diminished to my palate—despite enjoying the aroma, everything tasted like bland mush to me.
Every now and then, I caught the Marquise de Balay scowling at me, but I didn’t see her look at Daphne or Charlotte’s jewels.Could she be the thief? She certainly doesn’t seem interested in either necklace. She seems angry, of course, but she always seems rather splenetic.
I turned to watch Charlotte and the Cagnés. She seemed to be having a terrible time trying to keep the Comte de Cagné from groping her leg beneath the table. The comtesse seemed oblivious—in fact, she seemed rather drunk. I didn’t think the thief would be so focused on sex or so unprofessional as to become intoxicated before a robbery. No one here seemed to be a criminal mastermind. Was there something or someone we’d missed? Maybe the thief wasn’t here after all. Maybe The Order had been wrong about their suspects.
Suddenly, there was a shriek from Charlotte’s end of the table. She had dumped an entire decanter of wine into the lap of the Comte de Cagné. The comtesse was screeching with drunken laughter and Charlotte pretended ineptitude.
“Oh, Monsieur, I amsosorry! How unbelievably clumsy of me! I hope I did not ruin your lovely breeches,” she pouted. The comte narrowed his eyes at her and without a word, yanked his wife up from the table and stormed from the room. There were some scandalized gasps and a few snickers, but for the most part, everyone carried on with their meal.Would they go straight home?I wondered.Or hide and wait for the chance to steal something?
The rest of the evening passed in relative peace. By the time the last of the after-dinner drinks had been polished off, it was well after one o’clock in the morning and only a few guests remained. The Marquise de Balay had disappeared, and I wondered if she was off plotting somewhere or if she’d slunk back home to her gout-riddled husband.
As Daphne waved at the last departing couple, I came up behind her and planted a kiss on her neck.
“What do you think?” she asked. She stifled a yawn.
Charlotte approached us. “To be honest,” she said. “I have a hard time imagining any one of them as a brazen jewel thief.”
“Yes,” I frowned. “I must agree.”
“Well, all we can do now is wait,” Daphne said. “Our trap is baited and set.”
