CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Marie

‘YOU KNOW YOU’RE in trouble now, Madame Tussaud,’ said the valet, leaning back in her chair and kicking his foot up slightly as he crossed his legs. ‘You have just broken one of the rules of the household, which, as you are aware, signals the execution of the contract and your immediate removal from the premises.’

Marie stood with her back against the door. What had he seen? She swallowed and wished that Regington was here to thrash this impertinent boy. How dare he scold her like she was a little girl.

‘So you are a spy as well?’ she asked, keeping her voice measured. He was sitting in her chair by her dressing table, which forced her to sit upon the edge of her bed. She ran her palm over the soft folded blanket, remembering the man who had just left. “You have certainly taken some time to make your move.’

‘Time well spent watching, waiting, listening. Reading, even.’

‘I hope all your efforts have been rewarded.’

‘Indeed they have, for tonight I saw you lead a gentleman to your boudoir. But you weren’t in here long, not long enough to —’

She rose, feigning indignation.

‘Now, now,’ he soothed. ‘No French hysterics needed here, madame, they won’t get you very far. I can see your dignity has been offended, but I had no intention of doing so. It was just an observation, not a judgement. Where and with whom we each pleasure ourselves is a person’s own business.’

‘Quite.’

‘And then after this room, you looked at Philidor’s. Now why is that, I wonder?’

‘Why to which part of your … observations, as you may call them?’ she said archly, sitting back on the bed.

‘Well, I can understand wanting to smuggle a lover into your bedchamber, however briefly, as the isolation here can be terribly trying, but then to show him your business partner’s … What interest has he in that?’

‘What interests me interests him,’ she said matter-of-factly.

‘You are interested in Philidor,’ observed the valet. ‘And so the intrigue begins. You desire both gentlemen then. How very … French.’

‘No intrigue in the manner you imply, monsieur. Just as you say, observations. I have sleep to attend to, and it is late. So I bid you goodnight.’

‘Oh, you didn’t think it would be as easy as that, did you?’ he said. ‘Goodness, no. You see now I have something of yours. A secret. And it will cost for me to keep it for you, if you get my meaning.’

‘And what benefit is it to you?’

‘I want to see my master happy, and you have made him happy with your commission. He needs you for some time still to make sure the thing works and does what he wants it to do, and you and your business partner need him for this show you are putting on. It would be most inconvenient if you had to cancel again. Money gone, reputation in tatters, and what of your boys? You won’t be able to pay the fees, and your husband may insist they become … grocers!’ He laughed.

Marie stifled the rage that wanted to push itself out of her throat and fly at this conniving scoundrel. How dare he.

She didn’t acknowledge the slight but asked, ‘And what do you want then, for this secret of mine to be kept in your traitorous breast?’

‘Money. The duke pays fair enough, but I have high ambitions. I want to leave this place eventually, set myself up in London, join a gentlemen’s club.’

‘Pah,’ she spat. ‘None will accept you. They will see you for the imposter you are.’ But secretly she thought how well he would play the part.

He smiled. ‘Perhaps. Or perhaps not. Money has a way of hiding things so that the eye does not see what is before it.’

She fiddled with a loose thread on the bed curtain. So this was his game. ‘I also have a secret,’ she said, now turning to watch his face carefully.

‘Most intriguing. Especially if it concerns me.’

‘You have been forcing yourself upon Harriet every night, by the courtyard well. You have even promised to marry her when you have enough money, yes?’

His face remained impassive, until he rubbed a speck of dust from the toe of his polished black boot. ‘Foolish girl. I’ve tired of her since she’s been occupied in her room with your sewing in the evenings anyway. It was the only way she’d let me —’

‘That’s not what she said, and it is only fitting that she seeks my counsel. She tells me many things, and so I wonder – much like you do, monsieur – what this secret is worth. I may feel inclined to write of it to His Grace, tell him of his trusted valet’s disreputable behaviour, his attempts at raping the maid and the way he has lied to satisfy his lust. Your duke may have no more need for such a valet,’ she said, returning to the loose thread and snapping it off.

He nodded. ‘An impasse. I see. Well done, madame. The duke would believe your account over mine, given that you are of a higher class and I am only a servant. Then again, you are just a woman. Still, I cannot afford to lose my position, any more than you can afford to lose yours. Shall we be the keepers of each other’s secrets, then?’

She stood. ‘We understand each other, monsieur, and that is enough. I trust that you will keep your observations to yourself, as will I. Should circumstances change, I will inform you. And now, I think, it is goodnight.’ She opened the door and he left, still looking as pleased as he had at first. What else was he planning? She sat on the chair, warm from his presence, and rubbed her temples before turning to the looking glass.

The flush remained from her encounter with Regington and the exertion needed to control her emotions, and now this valet and his attempt at blackmail. It was an intriguing game she was in, with more than one surprise player. She had something on all of them now. But after this encounter with the valet and her earlier loss of temper with Philidor, was it possible he, or they, had something to use against her in return?