Mary Jo Putney (55 page)

She chuckled. "You want to take advantage of my ignorance."

He nodded mischievously. "Very well," she said with mock resignation. "Make a fool of your mother. But if I can't find my way out, you have to come back and rescue me."

"Don't worry, I'll wait in the center till you find me, so I can guide you out," he offered magnanimously. Then he raced into the maze, giving one squeal of delight before remembering that his cries would give away his location.

Diana decided to give him a one-minute head start and began counting while she studied the statues more closely. They appeared to be original. Just another pair of priceless Aubynwood baubles.

Absorbed in her thoughts, she didn't hear the quiet footfalls on the grass, or realize that she was not alone until her bare neck was grasped by a large male hand. As long fingers stroked and caressed with insulting familiarity, she froze, knowing instantly that it was not Gervase who touched her.

Pivoting away from the interloper, she found herself face-to-face with the Count de Veseul. He was dressed all in black and looked so nonchalant, so elegantly evil, that a bolt of panic ran through her. But she was the mistress of Aubynwood now, not a demirep, and he would not dare to coerce her. In her best
grande dame
manner she said, "Good evening,
Monsieur le Comte.
You are not dining with the others?"

"I shall join them soon," he said lazily, "but I saw you walking in this direction and decided to... pay my respects. Business calls, and I must leave in the morning."

"What a pity. I trust you have enjoyed your visit here." He stood too close for comfort and she edged away.

"The best part is yet to come." Lifting his cane, he laid the golden serpent's head against her cheek.

Jerking away, she said,
"Monsieur,
you take unacceptable liberties! Do not do so again."

"I shall do whatever I wish." He laughed with gentle amusement, his dark eyes a fierce contrast to his languid tone. "I shall take what I have desired since the first moment I saw you at the theater. You are a work of art,
ma petite,
and great art should not be kept for the pleasure of only one man."

In the face of his unmistakable meaning, she stepped back again, beginning to be frightened. "My husband would not appreciate your impertinence any more than I do," she said sharply. "If you do not leave immediately, I shall tell him of your insulting behavior. A wise man would not wish to incur St. Aubyn's displeasure."

"You will tell him nothing,
ma petite."
The civilized mask began slipping. "I will take my pleasure of you, and when I am done, no one else shall ever have you again."

He reached for her, laying one hand on the juncture of neck and shoulder, his thumb stroking her throat with threatening pressure as he raised the cane with his other hand. The underlying evil she had always sensed in him was fully visible now. She had no doubt that he was capable of raping and murdering her, then joining the other guests for a blithe dinner.

That thought was instantly followed by the horrific realization that if Geoffrey returned to find what delayed his mother, he would have to be murdered, too. Forcing down her panic, she twisted free of Veseul's hand before he could get a firm grip.

Diana couldn't outrun him across the grassy lawn, and he was so close that if she reached for her knife he could easily disarm her. She gave one piercing scream, hoping someone might be near, then whirled and darted into the maze.

* * *

Gervase circulated among his guests, using his host's duties to avoid getting into lengthy conversations. He noted that Veseul was missing from the crowd, The fellow had sent a graceful note apologizing for the fact that he must leave in the morning. Gervase would have said good riddance, except that he had made no progress toward exposing the treachery of which he suspected the Frenchman.

Over the last few days Veseul's sociability had had a smug quality, as if he knew that he was under suspicion, and was thumbing his nose at the man who wanted to expose him. At times like this, Gervase could see the appeal of the French police state; it would be pleasant just to throw Veseul into prison. In Britain, however, that wasn't feasible, especially not when the suspect was wealthy and well-connected.

He smiled automatically at Mrs. Oliphant, who was saying that she hoped dear Lady St. Aubyn was feeling better. Such a lovely young woman. Murmuring something suitable, he made his escape as quickly as possible.

Gervase was grateful that his wife was keeping out of his way. His decision to give her an annulment was the wisest course, but if he saw her again it would be very difficult to hold to his resolution.

Since he had decided what to do about his wife, it was time to make amends to Francis. He began working his way through the crowd toward his cousin. When Francis saw him, the younger man's lips tightened and he deliberately turned back to his discussion with a man from the Foreign Office.

Gervase waited for a break in the conversation, then said in a low voice, "Could you come out in the hall for a moment?"

Francis gave him a stare that could have chipped ice. "Afraid I'll contaminate your guests?"

"No! Please, just come." Apologizing was going to be hard enough without having an audience.

Together they made their way through the milling, good-natured crowd.

* * *

The entrance passage to the maze was short. Then it turned to the right and split with paths to both right and left. Without stopping to consider, Diana ran to her left over the short-clipped velvety grass, hoping she could be out of sight before Veseul reached the intersection. Another intersection, another turn to the left. This one led to a dead end, and she raced back the way she had come, hoping the scream she had given would bring Geoffrey to her without alerting Veseul to the fact that a third person was present.

When she was halfway down the passage, Geoffrey appeared at the far end and dashed toward her. He was about to call out when she put her finger to her lips in a frantic demand for silence.

He was surprised but obedient, and in a moment Diana was beside him, dropping to her knees and putting her lips by his ear to speak in a breathless whisper. "Geoffrey, there's a bad man behind me in the maze. Do you know the way well enough to lead us through and out the other side without any wrong turns?"

He considered, then whispered, "No." He was intrigued by her words, not yet fearful.

Diana thought rapidly. If she and Geoffrey stayed together, it was likely they would both run into Veseul and neither would escape alive.

Her glance fell to the base of the thick green hedge. The heavy yew branches grew almost down to the ground, but at the very bottom there was a little space between the hedge and the earth. Not enough for an adult to wiggle through, but adequate for a small child. With a swift prayer that Veseul would not appear, she asked urgently, "Could you crawl under the hedges and get out of the maze the shortest, quickest way?"

After a quick look, Geoffrey nodded. "Yes, but I might ruin my clothes."

"That doesn't matter!" Diana caught at the note of hysteria in her voice, wanting her son to be alert but not panicky. "Go as quickly as you can and try not to let Veseul see you. He's a very, very wicked man. If he catches you, shout and I'll come. When you're outside, run as fast as you can to the house and bring back help. Do you understand all that?"

Geoffrey nodded, his eyes wide.
 
Beginning to realize the danger, he threw his arms around her for a quick hug before burrowing under the hedge nearest the perimeter.

Sending a fervent blessing with her son, Diana lifted her skirts to ankle level and ran, her thin kidskin slippers silent on the grass. At the next intersection she turned left again. The sky above was still sunlit, but here in the maze all was cool shadow as dusk approached.

There was still no sight of the Frenchman, but she heard a rustling sound on the far side of the right-hand hedge. In his confidence, the count moved at a leisurely pace, scorning both silence and speed.

Wanting to distract him from any chance of hearing Geoffrey, Diana gave a small gasp, just loud enough for him to hear before she plunged down the new path.

A thick, evil chuckle followed her. "I am so glad you are trying to escape,
ma petite,
it is more exciting this way." His voice was a confident, threatening hiss, like his golden serpent come to life. "You will not succeed, you know. It is merely a matter of time until one of your turns will bring you right into my arms."

The frightened whimper she gave was only partly for effect. Was Geoffrey out yet? Pray God he wouldn't come back to investigate! Another dead end, the dense green hedge a blank barrier in front of her. She turned and ran back.

At the next junction she stopped and listened. She heard heavy breathing and the soft rustle of a body brushing the shrubbery, but within the tangled pathways of the maze it was impossible to tell where the sounds came from.

Veseul could be almost anywhere. He could have gotten ahead of her and be lying in wait, or be as close as the other side of the hedge. The uncertainty was almost as terrifying as his actual presence.

She moved down the next aisle. The maze seemed much larger inside than it had from the outside, The fragrance of a late-summer garden was an ironic contrast to this nightmare game of hide-and-seek. How long until she came to the center and found the path out? If she could escape the maze with even a minute's head start, she could win free of the Frenchman.

She paused again at the intersection, listening intently as her lungs struggled for breath. Then, with shocking suddenness, a black-clad arm shot through the dark yew wall and grabbed her upper arm with vicious strength. This time there was nothing calculated about her scream.

* * *

Geoffrey wriggled out from under the outside hedge, leaving his coat tangled in the yew branches. As he sprang to his feet, he heard his mother's terrified cry, and he instinctively moved toward the maze entrance. Then he stopped. He couldn't fight the bad man alone. He must go for help as Mama ordered.

Running as never before, he cut through the formal rose garden toward the main house. The gardens were too large, the house impossibly distant.

A stitch stabbed at his side and he was gasping for breath but he refused to slow down. As he came to the edge of the gardens, he felt a tugging on his forehead, the invisible rope that would pull him backward into an epileptic seizure.

* * *

The Frenchman's grasp was cruelly tight. His other hand emerged from the hedge and fumbled blindly at Diana's body, squeezing viciously when he found her breast. The clawing hands revolted her, and her only comfort was knowing that the hedge temporarily blocked his passage.

But he could disable her, then follow through the maze to her location. At the thought, she struggled harder.

Veseul crooned his threats in a low, sibilant voice. "First I shall cut off your clothes so I may see if the whole of you is as perfect as what is visible. Then I will ravish you, invade every depth of your body while you fight me." He was panting with eagerness now, his perverse visions stimulating him out of his cool
savoir faire.
"So fortunate that no one is around at this hour. I won't have to gag your screams."

His depraved excitement infuriated Diana, and she managed to lean over and sink her teeth into his wrist, biting as hard as she could. He gasped and his fingers loosened, permitting her to tear free.

She fled down the aisle, pursued by the hissing threat, "You should not have done that,
ma petite.
" His voice and hoarse breathing filled the whole maze, coming from every direction at once. She could hear his heavy steps, no longer leisurely as he pursued her.

Another intersection. Another left turn. Terrifyingly, another dead end, at the same moment that Veseul appeared behind her, a scant twenty feet away. A vicious, satisfied smile spread across his face, all handsomeness eradicated by his emerging madness.

With the desperation of a cornered rabbit, Diana saw that the gap at the bottom of the hedge was unusually wide here. She dropped to the ground and wriggled frantically under.

It was possible to force her body through, just barely. The thick, ancient yew limb gouged her back painfully, ripping the light muslin of her dress. She lost one slipper but won a brief reprieve. A man the size of Veseul could not squeeze through the gap, though his furious curses pursued her.

As she ran once more to the left, her heart thundered, as if it would burst from her body. Her strength was fading, and with it any faint hope of escaping. She considered stopping and waiting for her pursuer, knife in hand, but she didn't know if she could kill a man, even to save her own life. And she didn't dare find out.

* * *

Geoffrey fought the seizure with every iota of will and concentration that he had developed in his demanding childhood. "No!" he shrieked, bending forward at the waist, clutching his temples as if to hold on to consciousness. "No!"

Fueled by desperation, his willpower succeeded. The tugging at his forehead receded, though not very far. As he straightened up dizzily and staggered across the drive toward the house, he could feel the seizure at the edge of his consciousness, waiting like a predator for his concentration to fail so that it could take away his mind.