A Dangerous Masquerade (5 page)

             
‘I told you that I meant to retire and settle down.’

             
‘One last task and it will all be over.  I know you’ve had to carry the suspicion that you were the traitor, Moraven.  Do this for us and I’ll make certain your name is cleared with Pendleton and the others.’

             
‘They probably wouldn’t believe you.’  Moraven shrugged carelessly.  ‘It hardly matters after so long – but if Renard is the one I’ll be pleased to do as you ask.  He betrayed us in Spain and ten or more men met their deaths because of him.  I owe him for that.’

             
‘Good man.  I knew you wouldn’t let us down.’

             
Moraven smiled grimly.  ‘If the man who was terrorising nuns and children was the man who had betrayed his comrades, he would be killing two birds with one stone.

             
He’d been following a lead when he came to Paris three weeks earlier, but some discreet inquiries about the Comte Devallier had met with a brick wall.  As soon as the name was mentioned, faces went blank and people avoided his eyes, even crossing the road rather than be seen talking to him.  It seemed that just the name was sufficient to throw fear into his informers.

             
However, if Devallier and Renard were the same man, and he had every reason to believe it so, he might just have stumbled on a clue.  A man like Renard wouldn’t take kindly to children being stolen away from him, especially if the nuns were taking in all those they could find on the streets.  In time he was going to try taking them back – and in doing so might just reveal his hand.

             
Of course, the added bonus of a beautiful woman made the quest all the more interesting.  Something about Constance Hatherstone made him suspect that she had not always been in service.  She said her father had been a language teacher but he was also a gambler.  The question was, who was he before his gambling brought him to such a position – and who was the girl’s mother.  The reason she’d been so easily accepted as the comtesse was because she was clearly a lady.  The story she’d told him was only a part of her mystery and he found he was intrigued.

             
Smiling and despite his determination not to sleep, he found himself drifting away.

Constance lay wakeful for a while but then she too slept.  It was morning when Heloise brought a tray of hot chocolate and bread rolls with honey into her room.  Constance sat up as the old woman put the tray across her lap.

             
‘He’s here in the house,’ Heloise said.  ‘Nearly frightened the life out of me – it’s the man who came to the door when you went out last night, madame.  He says you know he’s here?’

             
‘He refused to leave,’ Constance said, stifling a yawn.  ‘I stole his purse and he made me tell him why.’

             
‘God have mercy!’  Heloise crossed herself.  ‘Isn’t it bad enough that you risk being unmasked as an impostor night after night?  Have you run mad that you stole a man’s purse?  And such a man!  You foolish girl.  You will ruin yourself and for what – a pack of children who will go back to the streets the moment the nuns turn their backs.’

             
‘You don’t mean that,’ Constance said.  ‘If you’d seen little Lucille when she first came to us…she was so thin and ill.  She would have died if the nuns had not nursed her.’

             
‘That’s all well and good,’ Heloise grumbled.  ‘But if you start stealing purses you will end with a rope about your neck.’

             
‘Yes, I know.  It was wrong and foolish of me.  I shall not do it again.’

             
‘What does this man want of you?  He won’t let you take his purse for nothing – a man like that always wants payment.  Did he spend the night in your bed?’

             
‘No!’  Constance was angry.  ‘You should know I would never do such a thing.  How could you think it?’

             
‘Because I’ve seen men like that one before.  Mon Dieu!  Think what you are doing child.  That one is dangerous.  He wants something from you or he would not still be here.’

             
‘Yes, I think he may want something.  I do not know what he wants, but I shall be careful, Heloise.  You should not worry about me.’

             
‘I have nowhere else to go,’ the old woman said. ‘You could go anywhere.  I think the comtesse is dead.  Take her things.  We could find a small cottage somewhere and live in peace.’

             
‘Yes, I know that is what you need,’ Constance said.  ‘If the money were mine I would find you a home of your own – but it belongs to the comtesse.  I must not leave or she will have nothing when she returns.  If the comte’s cousin had reason to believe that I was not her he would take everything.’

             
‘Well, I suppose you will do as you please – but be careful of that one downstairs.  He has helped himself to the comte’s things as calm as you like.  If I’d known he was in the house I should not have slept a wink.’

             
‘I think you were safe enough.  He had seen you earlier but meant you no harm.’

             
Heloise sniffed.  ‘It’s not me I’m thinking of.  Watch yourself, my lady, or he will have the clothes off your back before you know where you are.’

             
Constance laughed and her friend went away scowling.  Heloise was right to be wary of him, of course – but her instincts were telling her to trust him.  He had said that he might be able to help the nuns and that was worth taking a personal risk.  He wouldn’t be the first rake that had tried to seduce her since she’d taken on Madeline’s identity.  Besides, if he wanted to stay here there wasn’t much Constance could do to stop him.

             
Having drunk her chocolate and eaten her rolls, she got out of bed.  There was cold water in the jug on her washstand, but she wasn’t going downstairs to fetch warm water, as she usually did, in her nightrail.  She would use the cold and dress before she ventured downstairs in search of her guest.

             
As she fastened her gown at the front, then tied her hair into a knot at the back, she was thinking about the man who had broken into her house and forced her to allow him to stay in her dressing room.  Just who was he – and why hadn’t he denounced her as a thief to the beadle?  His reputation was hardly that of a gallant gentleman so why had he said he might help the children?  It hardly fitted with what was whispered of him – and something in his manner had told her she could trust him the previous night, even though she’d been angry with him.

             
He had mocked her and spoken of her joining him on the bed, but he’d made no attempt to force himself on her.  Constance knew how badly her mistress had suffered at her husband’s hands.  The comte’s cruelty to his young wife had at times been unspeakable.  Madeline had spoken of beatings, rape and worse, her spirit almost broken by the time she ran away.  Knowing that they were alone in the house, apart from Heloise, who did not hear well and usually read people’s lips, he could have done whatever he pleased with Constance.  She would have fought him, but his strength would have overcome her.

             
A little smile touched her mouth as she left her room and went down to the kitchen.  From what Heloise had told her, she would find him eating breakfast there.  The smell of freshly-brewed coffee told her that she was not wrong and she walked in to see that he had demolished most of the ham she had recently bought and was eating her home made pickles with evident enjoyment.

             
‘You have a good appetite, sir.’

             
‘You may buy some more,’ he replied.  ‘I think you cannot grudge me breakfast?’

             
‘Not at all,’ Constance said.  ‘I am sorry there was not much for you to choose from.  We live frugally here.’

             
‘Did the comte leave you no money?’

             
‘Very little, sir – unless it is hidden.  There is silver and jewels but I have not yet sold anything.’

             
‘Because it belongs to the comtesse.  You told me last night.  What if she never returns?  Can you live here this way forever?’

             
‘No, I do not think so.  The comte had a relative who might claim the estate.  I am trying to prevent that happening, but if Madeline does not return soon…’

             
‘You call her Madeline.  Does she permit such familiarity?’

             
‘I mean the comtesse of course.  I was her companion as well as her maid.’

             
‘Had you known her long before she married?’

             
‘My father taught her brother languages.  She also had lessons for a while – and then the comte offered for her and her father made her wed him.  She wept and refused but he locked her in her room until she agreed.  I came here with her because she asked me to be her friend and help her.’

             
‘I see…’ Moraven frowned.  ‘Her father was not kind.  No caring father would force his daughter to marry a man like that.  If his reputation was true he was a depraved creature.’

             
‘Yes, sir.  He was an evil man.  My poor lady was ill served by her father.’

             
‘You care for her you said?’

             
‘Yes, sir.  I loved her.’

             
Moraven finished his coffee and touched the napkin to his lips.  ‘It is years since I made my own breakfast.  I am glad to discover I have not lost the skill.’  He stood up and looked at her.  ‘Well, Constance, are you ready to take me to meet your children and the nuns who care for them?’

             
‘Yes, sir, if you wish it.’

             
‘You will need a cloak in case it is cold out.’

             
‘Thank you.  I have it in the hall.’  Constance hesitated, then, ‘What did you mean when you said you might be able to help?’

             
‘You spoke of a man called Andre Renard?  Do you or the nuns know where he can be found?’

             
‘I know little of him, but I believe Sister Helene might know more.’  Constance wrinkled her brow.  ‘What do you know of him?  I saw something in your face last night when I spoke his name.’

             
‘You are observant, lady.  If the man is who I think he may be, he is also my enemy.  If Sister Helene can tell me his whereabouts, I may be able to make sure that he does not trouble her or the children again.’

             
A shiver went down Constance’s spine.  She did not ask but she had a feeling that this man could be ruthless.  If Andre Renard had made an enemy of him he could be in serious trouble when he was found.

             
‘That would be a blessing,’ she said.  ‘Sister Helene said that God would provide and it seems she may be right.’

             
‘I am not sure that I was sent by God.’

             
‘No, perhaps not,’ Constance replied and laughed softly.  ‘However, Sister Helene says that He moves in mysterious ways.’  She looked up at him as they went out into the hall.  ‘Please, do not tell her that I stole your purse.  If she knew she would give it back to you – and she needs the money.’

             
‘If all is as you told me, you need have no fear.  I do not know what you have heard of me, but I can be generous when I choose.’

             
‘Thank you…’ Constance’s cheeks heated as his gaze dwelled on her face.  ‘I am sorry I stole from you.  It was wrong and I’ve learned my lesson.  I shall not do it again.’

             
‘I on the other hand am not in the least sorry.  If your Sister Helene can point me in the right direction, it is a small price to pay.’

‘I am sorry I cannot tell you more,’ Sister Helene said almost an hour later.  ‘I know he comes and goes from Paris, but I heard recently that he was due to return quite soon.  I have been told that he lives in a chateau just outside the city but I cannot give you its direction.  However, I believe he is often to be found at the Rouge Coq in the evenings.  I saw him there once when I went to find a child I’d heard of.  He is an evil man, though his looks are not ill.  Some might think him well favoured in a harsh manner.  However, he has a small scar close to his left eye.’

             
‘You are certain of that?’

             
‘Yes, quite certain.  Does that help you, sir?’

             
‘Yes, considerably.  The man I came here to find answers that description, though he goes under many names.  He is a dangerous man, Sister.  You would do well to be wary of him.’

             
‘He does not frighten me, my lord.  I serve God and in doing His work I am protected.  When my time comes I hope to go peacefully, but if the Lord deems otherwise I shall accept His will.’