The Adventuress (34 page)

“If only there were some catalog of accounts of ridiculous actions taken by gentlemen solely as a result of their own stubbornness,” Margaret said. “I should very much like to read it.”

“I do appreciate your attempt at humor,” Jeremy said. “When the swim did not kill me—no thanks to you, Hargreaves, for leaping in to rescue me (truly this has been a terrible time for my ego)—she decided to change tactics. Her direct attempts had failed, and she worried that if she continued, she might start to appear suspicious, so she targeted Emily instead.”

“She tried to kill Emily?” Colin asked.

“No, but she tried to turn you all against me,” I said. “This was in preparation for the final part of her plan. She locked me in the cell on Sainte-Marguerite, and hoped you all would come to the conclusion that I had done it myself to get attention.”

“But the barrel was far too heavy for her to move,” Mr. Fairchild said. “She must have had assistance with that.”

“Evidently a few kisses were enough to convince one of the guards to help her,” Jeremy said, his face a terrible shade of grey. “She told him it was all to be a good joke.”

“And then she switched the invitation to her mother's dinner to a card she had written herself, with the wrong time, so that I would look rude and inconsiderate,” I said. “Following that, she sent herself the crushed hat. The conclusion to be drawn then was that not only had I been behaving badly, I had now revealed my jealousy.”

“Of course,” Colin said. “You are secretly in love with Bainbridge, and he with you. We would be helped to that conclusion when the two of you, in rapid succession, returned to the hotel soaked from the rain.”

“Precisely,” I said. “She arranged for the telephone messages to be left for both of us.”

“I only had to make my way back from the café,” Jeremy said. “Poor Em got the added treat of racing through the city to the church and back. Amity never was particularly fond of you, Em. I will admit that now.”

“And the yellow carnation on the walls?” Margaret asked. “Surely she had not gone all the way up there to leave it?”

“She claims she did not, and I am inclined to believe her,” I said. “It would have been nearly impossible for her to have done so with time left to return to the hotel in a timely fashion, and we know she was there, in the lobby, for much of the afternoon. Either Augustus had been there himself and lost the buttonhole, or it was nothing more than a coincidence.”

“But surely she noticed that none of us blamed you for the hat or any of these other things?” Mr. Fairchild turned to me. “I regret very much that I did not defend you publicly. You deserved better support from your friends.”

“You are kind to say so,” I said. “She did realize that the plan wasn't working particularly well, as there was no wholesale turning against me by any of you—and I thank you all for your loyalty and assure you that defending me more staunchly would not have changed the outcome of the situation—but that did not worry her much. Each of those events remained, more or less, unexplained, which was just what she wanted. When Jeremy and I turned up dead at the ruins, they would help to reveal why I had decided to kill him and then myself.”

“What a horrible woman,” Cécile said. “You, Kallista, have encountered many—too many—disgusting criminals, but I do believe Mademoiselle Wells is the worst of them all. So cold-blooded and calculating. A very devil of a person.”

“And at the same time a product of a society that cares about nothing but money and rank,” Colin said.

“If her parents had let her marry that Cabot fellow—” Jack began.

“No,” I interrupted. “Amity is not a victim of circumstance. She is a selfish, manipulative person without any sort of a moral compass. I have not one ounce of sympathy for her.”

“Nor would anyone suggest you should,” Colin said. “Although, were she here with us now, she might use your impassioned critique of her as further evidence to convince us that you are well and thoroughly in love with Bainbridge.”

“It is only a matter of time, Hargreaves, before you accept reality,” Jeremy said. “Emily has loved me since she was three.”

“The reality, my dear man, is that this entire incident has left you a priceless gift,” Colin said. “You have never really wanted to be married—you have held that position for all the many years I have known you. And now, after having been engaged to a woman who tried multiple times to kill you, you can hardly be expected to even consider approaching the altar anytime soon. I should think no one, even your own mother, would dare broach the subject for a solid five years at least.”

“Hargreaves, what a brilliant observation,” Jeremy said, leaping to his feet. “And as I am certain I never would have reached it on my own, I do believe I am now obligated to you in a way that even yesterday I would have found intolerable. I may, in fact, be fonder of you than I am of your wife.”

“High praise indeed,” Colin said. “At the risk of dooming myself to having to bear with equanimity even more of your goodwill, I shall take things a step further and suggest that if your brother, whom I am thoroughly convinced was well on his way to proposing to a certain young lady even before arriving in Cannes, would now follow through on his ambitions, you might no longer have to consider marriage as a necessity for yourself.”

“My brother?” Jeremy asked.

Jack looked at his boots. “I—I—you all are very kind, but I am afraid that my hopes—”

“You, my dear boy, have fallen victim to Amity as well,” Margaret said. “Forgive me for speaking about it so publicly, but you are among friends, and I am not about to let another minute go by without correcting your misapprehensions, particularly as what you have suffered is not nearly so … er … humiliating as what your brother has gone through.”

“You are kindness itself, Margaret,” Jeremy said. His tone was pointed but he was smiling.

“I do not think you understand—” Jack started, but this time Christabel interrupted him.

“Amity told me to push you away,” she said. “She was certain you would never propose to me if I didn't make you suffer just a bit.”

“It was another layer to her scheme,” I said. “She couldn't very well have you proposing to Christabel before things were settled, so to speak, with Jeremy, so she convinced Christabel to pull away from you.”

“She told her she ought to flirt with me,” Mr. Fairchild said. “Christabel confessed everything to me at once, because she is too dear a creature to lead a man on. Perhaps I ought not have gone along with her plan, but I thought you might need a bit of prodding to get a proposal out of you.”

“I have been a fool,” Jack said.

“You are not half so foolish as I was to have listened to Amity,” Christabel said. “And I am most heartily sorry if I caused you any pain, Jack.”

“My dear girl—” He crossed to her and pulled her to her feet.

“That is quite enough,” Colin said. “Take her somewhere else to propose, will you? And the rest of you, go downstairs and order champagne to toast the happy couple. Emily and I will see you at breakfast. We have had more than enough excitement for one night.”

They protested as one, but it was Jeremy who ushered them out of our room. No one was about to argue with him after what he had gone through. When Colin had closed and locked the door behind them, he took my face in his hands and began to examine the various bruises and scrapes that covered it. “My dearest, darling girl, I hardly know what to say. Are you truly all right?”

“A little battered and somewhat the worse for wear, but nothing serious,” I said.

“You have distinguished yourself tonight,” he said, encircling me with his arms. “I could not be more proud. Moreover, I could not have handled the situation better myself. You are as capable as anyone with whom I have ever worked, and I hope you know that I have long considered you my full equal.”

“There is nothing you could say that would mean more to me.” I buried my face in his chest.

“That pleases me no end,” he said. “I do hope you realize, however, that your actions may cause you to soon find yourself in an interesting situation.”

“Of what sort?” I asked, pulling back from him. “I was rather hoping for a steaming bath. I am filthy and sore and have already asked Meg to fill the tub.”

“I would not describe that as an interesting situation, but you shall have it at once,” he said. “While you are soaking consider this: you have saved the life of a duke, a peer of the realm. Whatever will Her Majesty say? I shouldn't be surprised if she gives you some sort of official recognition. You are after all having breakfast with her tomorrow.”

“I suppose it would be too much to wish for a reprieve on that count. Has anyone been named a Lady of the Garter since Margaret Beaufort?” I asked. “I am no admirer of Henry Tudor, but he did have the sense to elevate his mother to the position. Perhaps Her Majesty could do the same for me?”

“I would not set my sights quite so high,” Colin said. “I may consider you my equal, but the queen—”

“Yes, yes, the queen. I doubt very much I will receive any sort of honor from her. More likely, she will reprimand me tomorrow morning and somehow have twisted events so as to blame me for the ensuing scandal.”

“You are almost certainly correct,” he said. “What could I have been thinking? Rejoice, however, that there is not time for your mother to come down from Kent before breakfast.”

The cat hissed. I took this as a sign of superior intelligence as it was clear the creature was objecting to the very idea of my mother. I decided at once that we would take her home with us. She would amuse the boys.

“I shall rejoice in that knowledge,” I said. “You ought to as well because there is no risk of any honors or worse for me. Only consider if she made me a peeress in my own right—she could at last call you lord, even if it were only a courtesy title.”

“No, my dear, your mother would never stand for that. Can you imagine?”

“The mortification? The horror? Oh, to have a daughter recognized for service and given a peerage. One shudders at the very thought.”

“Quite,” Colin said. “And that is more than enough shuddering for you tonight. Meg must have your bath ready by now.”

“I would never take a peerage, you know,” I said, as he scooped me up and carried me to the bath. “You have corrupted me too thoroughly for me to believe that to be a good idea. The aristocracy, that is. But I would very much like to live in a world where such a thing was possible. Ladies recognized the way men are.”

“It will come, Emily, it will come. We are only a few years from the dawn of a new century.”

“I have great hopes for it,” I said. The cat meowed as if in agreement. I found myself already unaccountably fond of her.

The queen was not fierce with me the next morning. In fact, she sent down word that we would delay breakfast by half an hour so that I would have time to recover from my travails. I appreciated the gesture even as I was amused by the idea that thirty minutes would be ample time to recover from having been knocked unconscious, kidnapped, and having shot someone. To her credit, though, Her Majesty was horrified by the dangers that had threatened Jeremy and me, and she praised the courage with which I had faced them, saying that she would expect nothing less from a noble Englishwoman. The whole affair took less than an hour, and when I returned to my friends I was delighted to be able to congratulate Jack and Christabel on their engagement. Cécile had already taken the bride under her wing, and had telegrammed Christabel's parents to inform them she would be traveling to Paris, where together they would see to her trousseau. Mr. Fairchild booked himself onto the first train out of Nice, saying he could no longer tolerate the Côte d'Azur, and I was sorry that he could not separate the lovely towns from the brutal events that had taken place there.

Margaret, however, had no such problems. She had sent a telegram as well, to Mr. Michaels, whom she had ordered to meet her in Nice as soon as possible. “You didn't take
me
to the ruins, Emily,” she said, “so I shall have to make him do it.”

I thought it unlikely we would see Mr. or Mrs. Wells again, and on that count I was correct, but Augustus was waiting for me in the lobby of the hotel that evening when Colin and I returned from a quiet dinner at a restaurant in town. He presented me with a small package, bowing ever so slightly as he gave it to me.

“I believe you prefer them unbound,” he said, and slipped away. I unwrapped the parcel. Inside was a glass box, the sort used by scientists to display entomological specimens. Within it was a single pin, stuck through nothing but the white backing that filled the case. Next to it was a label, written in a neat hand:
Iolana iolas.
I unfolded the small piece of paper that accompanied it. The note said
I am not so bad as you think.

“I may have misjudged him,” I admitted, as Colin read over my shoulder.

“Either way, I am very glad to be done with the Wells family,” he said. “I am not, however, certain that I am done with Cannes. Let's go back, today. I have already contacted the hotel.”

“What a marvelous idea,” I said. “We could wait for Margaret and Mr. Michaels—”

“Not a chance,” he said, slipping his arm through mine and pulling me close. “I want you all to myself. No more parties, boat excursions, fireworks, dinners, prisons. Just the two of us, no interruptions.”

“I do rather like fireworks,” I said.

“Then you shall have them in spades,” he said.

“What about Roman banquets? Do you object to them?”

“Not in principle, but if you think I am going to willingly don a toga, you could not be more wrong.”

It had taken a considerable effort to persuade him to let me bring the cat home with us. I decided to keep the toga in reserve for future use.