Dancing with a Rogue (26 page)

The carriage rocked through the streets and delivered her to the backstage entrance of the theater. It was a full house tonight, just as it had been since the play first opened. Mr. Lynch was a very happy man and was ready to do almost anything she asked.

As she went through the door, she sensed a new level of excitement. Members of the cast were whispering excitedly.

“The Prince of Wales is here tonight,” someone told her.

Lynch hurried up to her. “Prinny is here. I gave him my box. He will most certainly want to meet you afterward. If he likes the performance, perhaps the theater will be licensed for dramas.”

There was a plea in his voice, as well as excitement. He almost tittered with it.

“I will do my best, as I always do, monsieur,” she said.

“You will meet with him after the play.”

“If he requests.”

Lynch beamed.

When she went on stage, the magic wrapped around her as it always did. All her personal concerns disappeared, and she became the betrayed wife. Richard Taylor, her leading man, was always competent, but now he had an extra dash about him.

They took more curtain calls than ever before. She looked up and saw that Prinny was standing, a vast smile on his face.

When she returned to her dressing room, Dani was not there. She should be back by now. Stammel's town house was not that far away. Monique's pulse speeded and she said a small prayer. She should never had made so much of the bracelet. If anything happened to Dani because of her—

A knock came at the door, and she knew instinctively it was the Prince of Wales, a large man with a face that reflected dissipation.

“I wish to offer my compliments for a splendid performance,” he said as his eyes slowly undressed her.

She curtsied. “Thank you, Your Grace,” she said.

“You shall join us for supper,” he said with royal command.

“Thank you for the honor, but I have a previous engagement.”

He eyed her speculatively. “I have heard about the competition, Miss Fremont. And I have placed my own wager, knowing the three men involved. Is one of them the lucky man tonight?”

“I should not say,” she said coquettishly. “I would not like to influence the wagers.”

“A discreet woman,” he said. “But I do not give up easily.”

And then he was gone, and Lynch stood there with his mouth open. “You refused Prinny,” he said with dismay. “I will never receive a license.”

“He said he does not give up,” she reassured him.

“Then …”

“Then nothing,” she said. “But anything attained easily is not valued.”

The answer seemed to mollify him. He backed out.

She gave a deep sigh. She felt like a juggler, balancing far too many balls at one time.

And where was Dani?

Gabriel had the forged seal in his pocket. He'd gone by the printer's, then the inn, where he changed clothes and emerged with them well hidden under a cloak.

The fog had settled over London by midnight. He rode Specter to a respectable part of the city, a section quite close, in truth, to Stammel's home. It was time to pay the man a visit.

If Stammel stayed to pattern, he would either be at the theater pressing his attentions on Monique Fremont or in one of the men's clubs.

Gabriel wanted to get inside, to see whether Stammel had any documents that Gabriel could use. The more he knew about The Group's business affairs, the more he could do damage to them.

He had decided not to use the foil of a beggar, but rather a drunken gentleman who couldn't find his own house.

As he had done with Stanhope's home earlier, he took note of the oil lamps flickering inside. One by one they flickered off until only what must be the hallway appeared visible. Most of the servants were likely abed and any others in the servants' room awaiting the arrival of their master.

The fog was similar to that of the other night. Forms turned into little more than shadows.

The streets were empty except for the rare clattering of a carriage.

As he approached, he saw a figure slipping out of a path next to the house. The form was short, graceful, and wore a gray cloak he thought he recognized.

It could not be Monique. She would be acting.

Then he heard a shout and a wiry figure running after the first. The woman started running toward him, and the hood of the cloak slipped and he saw a profusion of red curls. She didn't see him until she passed just feet away. She shied away and continued to run. The man behind her was gaining.

Gabriel stepped behind a streetlamp and watched her pass, then staggered into her pursuer. Both of them went down.

The pursuer tried to untangle himself, but Gabriel couldn't quite gain his feet and kept landing on him.

He heard a curse.

“You should watch where you are going,” Gabriel said rudely. “Running in the streets, striking gentlemen. I could have been hurt. Who is your master?”

“That person is a thief,” the man said.

Under the light, Gabriel saw that the man was small and wiry. He probably served as groom.

“What did she take that was so important that you assault decent folk to retrieve it?” Gabriel asked in a slurred voice.

“She were in the stable. Tryin' to steal my master's horse.”

“But she did not, did she?” Gabriel said. “Or she would be on it, rather than running for her life. Most likely, she was seeking a warm place to sleep tonight.”

The man was not ready to give up. He was looking toward the trees. There was no sign of the intruder.

“I think I should call the constable,” Gabriel said with haughty indignation. “We cannot have assaults in the streets.”

The servant brushed himself, obviously surrendering. “Please no, yer lordship. I was doin' me duty.”

“Well then, we shall forget it for tonight,” Gabriel said, “but I would be careful, my good man, about accosting gentlemen and knocking them down.” He turned and lurched back down the street.

The household would be roused now. He would search some other time. But now he had an intriguing piece of information. He would have sworn the figure was Monique Fremont's maid.

Was she looking for the bracelet? And, if so, why?

Another facet to the very fascinating Monique Fremont.

Chapter Fifteen

Monique found an assistant to help her change clothes. She said that Dani had been taken ill and left.

She prayed that Dani would be at their lodgings.

She arrived there in the carriage and hurried inside.

Only Mrs. Miller greeted her.

“Is not Danielle with you?” she asked after peering out the door.

“No. She had some errands. She should be home soon.”

A lie. A prayer.

But Mrs. Miller accepted it. “Would you like me to prepare a bath?”

It was the first time the housekeeper had offered to do anything outside of the usual duties.

“Thank you,” Monique said, accepting the offering.

The housekeeper smiled. “It will be ready soon. Can I help you with the dress?”

Monique needed help indeed, but to admit it was to say that Dani would not be there to do it.

“I can manage, thank you,” she said.

Mrs. Miller left the room to heat water for the bath. But water was not what she needed. It was Dani. Perhaps she should summon a hackney and look for her. Just as she decided to do exactly that, Dani appeared in the doorway, still enveloped in Monique's cloak. Her face was nearly white.

“Dani?”

“I could not find it,” Dani said. “The groom saw me. He would have caught me if not for a gentleman who tripped him.”

“A gentleman?”

“I think it was the Marquess of Manchester.”

“What was he doing there?”

“I can not know for certain. There was a fog and he wore a cloak, but this man … I think it was him.”

But why would he have been there? Why would he be spying on Stammel? Because she had been with him? But she was not that important to him. Even the bouquet had been a whim. He'd never shown more than a fleeting interest in her.

Then she remembered what he'd said in jest about the flower girl. Could he have truly meant it? And Dani? Had he truly set out to help someone being chased?

“Do you think Manchester recognized you?” she asked. She had no doubt that the Samaritan was Manchester. He seemed to turn up everywhere. It made her even more curious about him. There was such a thing as too many coincidences.

Dani looked stunned. “I do not know. Perhaps. The hood of the cloak fell open but the fog was thick.”

“We need to keep you away from Stammel's residence,” Monique said. “Perhaps the man who chased you is Stammel's tiger. If so, you must keep out of sight when Stammel pays another visit.”

Monique reached over and gave Dani a hug. “Thank you for trying.”

“I know how much it meant to you.”

“Your safety is much more important. I should never have allowed you to go.”

“Allowed?”

Monique laughed. Dani had always been far more than a maid but even if she had been only that, she would have gone her own way. Dani had a spirit that Monique had always admired.

“Requested,” she corrected herself.

“But what if Lord Stammel has already found it?”

“I think he would have been here to return it. Or at the theater,” Monique said. “He would use any opportunity to visit.”

“Then where could it be?”

“The park,” Monique said. “I must have lost it in the park.”

“Do you know where?”

“No. The marquess …” She stopped, remembering the way she reached out to take the flowers. It was the only time her arm was extended outside the carriage.

Another coincidence?

She would talk to the marquess tomorrow. She would learn what she wanted to know. She was no longer going to play his puppet, and at the moment she felt as if she was doing exactly that.

Gabriel realized he was allowing a woman to come between himself and the vow he'd made years ago.

It was still alive in his heart, that vow, but so was a woman who mystified him.

He'd already allowed both her and her maid to interfere with what he had to do. He had assisted them several times, and yet he sensed she was a woman who seldom needed assistance. Why him? Why had he always been in place to be the protector?

He damn well didn't want to be a protector. He wanted to complete something twenty-three years in the making.

He looked at the bracelet in his hand.

He and Monique Fremont had engaged in some kind of sensuous dance ever since the day they had met. He had tried to deny it. He knew she had done the same. All their encounters screamed that one truth.

He kept remembering that dance. The waltz. They had melded together then, lost in the passion of music and rhythm and the enchantment that always wrapped around them. He wondered whether she knew that she was dancing with a rogue.

Somewhere deep inside he thought she did. They were of a kind, he and she.

But he could not trust her. It came down to that. He did not know what she wanted, what she was after, and, most of all, how it would affect what he had to do.

His father's face. He would never forget the despair in it. The only way it would fade from his memory was when justice was done, when the Earl of Stanhope suffered as his father had.

Monique sent a note with Dani to the detective she'd hired and arranged to meet him at one of the parks that dotted London.

He was apologetic as he greeted her.

“I don't have much for you,” he said. “I lost him several times, but I cannot tell you whether he knew he was being followed and tried to evade me on purpose. One time, he caught a hackney and I couldn't find one. He purchased a horse and I cannot keep up with him.” He paused, then added, “He has been down to the dock area several times and I am asking people about him.”

“Can you learn more? About the Manchester family?”

He brightened. “I can do that, miss. I have friends at the newspapers.”

“Good, then proceed. Follow him when you can.”

He looked relieved. He obviously thought he would be dismissed. “I will do as you say.”

“Meet me back here in two days at the same time,” she said.

He touched his cap. “I will have something for you.”

“Please do,” she said.

He hesitated. “Can you tell me anything that might help me? Why you are interested in him?”

“No,” she replied. “It is not necessary for you to know.”

“Then I will be on my way,” he said.

She wondered whether she was making a mistake in not telling him more, but then what did she know? Nothing. It was instinct, instinct and the fact that Manchester appeared everywhere she happened to be. And why would he visit the dock area? It was not a place that she thought would attract such a man.

But then he had surprised her over and over again.

She was not surprised that the detective had been unable to follow him, or find out much about him. He'd made obfuscation an art. She had run into one blocked door after another with him.

But then he might have discovered the same thing about her.

Monique had a light tea and was preparing for the night's performance when Lynch appeared at her door.

She led him into the small drawing room, then sat, knowing that his presence was probably not good news.

He perched uncomfortably on a chair. “My lord Stanhope has asked me to give you several days off.”

“You have never liked him,” she countered. “You told me so that first evening in London.”

“I warned you about him, but he still is influential and has many friends in high places. He can help me get a license for the company or he can prevent it.”

“And you are willing to bet me on the outcome?”

“No,” he said. “I did not see you repelled by the Earl of Stanhope even after my warning. Thus I can only think you know best. Therefore I readily consented to letting your understudy take your place for two performances.”