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.“Because they are expensive—”“And in dreadful taste, and suitable only for a man, and just the sort of thing you would expect from someone who disapproves of your marriage to the gardener’s daughter.” Celeste tapped her slipper-clad foot in annoyance.“What difference does it make, anyway? When the time is right, Maltin’s going to break into the Moricadians’ apartment, steal everything back, and do another search for clues as to their purpose.”“I know.” Throckmorton put his hand on her shoulder.“I know, darling.”She took a steadying breath, then closed her eyes as if she were groping for her temper.She must not have found it, for she snipped, “You cannot help it if some of your family are jackasses.”Throckmorton met Jude’s gaze and made a gesture over his belly, then sliced a glance at Celeste.Ah.She was increasing.That explained her sensitivity about a matter she would have normally shrugged away.In a chatty tone, Jude said, “Comte de Guignard and Bouchard believe that Englishmen are worthless, good-for-nothing fribbles, and I’ve worked hard to confirm their prejudice.” He had tagged along after them, contrived to meet them wherever they went, and played the part of a simpleton and a sycophant so in love with Continental culture as to be oblivious to insult or innuendo.“I’ve succeeded.They believe me to be the country’s biggest fool.”“Have they realized you’re Michael’s brother?” Throckmorton asked.“Yes, but they don’t know I was in Moricadia at the same time as Michael.” Bitterness etched Jude’s smile.“That’s part of the reason they despise me so much.They ordered the death of my brother, and I appear to be so stupid that I want their approval.”“Do you yet have any inkling why they’ve come to London?” Throckmorton asked.“No, but they’ve begun to lower their guards.It’s Bouchard we need to watch,” Jude leaned forward.“The key lies with him.”“We don’t know that for sure.” Throckmorton leaned forward, too, caught up in the recitation of the facts and seeking the answers that must be there.“I do.I lived in Moricadia for months waiting for Michael to stop gambling…although now I know he was doing more than gambling.” He had been playing the hero.Damn him.“It was Bouchard who advised Comte de Guignard and Prince Sandre to bring in the spas and the gambling, and their success is beyond anyone’s imagining.Along with the money, Bouchard brought in the criminals to run the country.He’s a thug in fancy dress clothes.The people in Moricadia are downtrodden and angry, and they hate him as they do no one else.They fear him as they do no one else.”“When I lived in Paris, even then there was talk that France should absorb Moricadia, take over the spas and the gambling, and put the money into their own treasury.” Celeste sounded almost normal.“De Guignard and Bouchard don’t want that—but why not go to France to argue against union?” Throckmorton demanded.“Why come to England?”“To make trouble between the two countries,” Celeste said.That was easy enough to do.The state of affairs with the Russians had grown dire.They wished to take over the continent of Asia, and Britain and France had too much money and power at stake to allow that to happen.So the two unlikely allies were putting aside centuries of distrust to join together and fight the Russians.At least, that was the plan.In truth, the French diplomats despised the English, the English diplomats despised the French, and certain men were willing to go to any lengths to destroy the alliance.“If de Guignard and Bouchard make enough trouble, they’ll distract France from Moricadia.”Celeste dabbed at her eyes.“Like a house of cards, the peace between France and England would be easy to knock down, and that would mean war.”A faint tap sounded on the door, and in his low voice, Throckmorton’s secretary said, “Sir, she’s here.”With a flounce and a smirk, Celeste said, “How fortunate you’ve come tonight, Lord Huntington, for our visitor concerns you.”Throckmorton’s mouth grew tight, and to his secretary, he replied, “Send her in.”The most extraordinary young woman walked through the door.She was young, perhaps twenty, beautiful and plump in a toothsome way, petite in height with a presence that commanded the eyes.Her sumptuous bosom quivered as it spilled over the top of her low-cut gown, which was sewn to perfection, yet the scarlet color easily outshone Jude’s most outlandish costume.Her abundance of blond hair was caught at her neck, and her slumberous green eyes surveyed the room, then settled on Jude.She moved toward him, her skirts swishing with each step she took.He found himself on his feet, watching her.As she drew near, an earthy scent swam in his head, and when she placed her hand on his arm, he discovered a heretofore overlooked affinity for petite, curvaceous, green-eyed blondes.“What a glorious gentleman you are.” She drew each word into a caress that made him wonder what her order of business might be—and he knew that if she wished to make him her order of business, he would submit to her demands.But Celeste interrupted her, and pointed at Garrick.“This gentleman is Mr.Throckmorton.”“Oh.” The woman glanced at Throckmorton’s somber, distinguished outfit and sighed.“Of course he is.I beg your pardon, Mr.Throckmorton.”“He doesn’t mind,” Celeste said blithely.To Jude, she explained, “Miss Gloriana Dollydear is an opera singer, and our newest weapon in this war.Sit down, Miss Dollydear, while I explain the situation to Lord Huntington.”Chapter 5“A lovely afternoon after so many days of rain, LordHuntington.” Lady Rutherford’s affected voice brought Jude to a halt.“Indeed, Lady Rutherford.So good to see you and your lovely daughter, Miss Jordan!” Jude bowed so extravagantly he might have been in the courts of Versailles rather than a gravel path in Hyde Park.“A most splendid day, and a chance to try out the newest spring styles.”Poor Miss Jordan.She was only seventeen, new toLondon, and was torn between acknowledging him as the heir to a dukedom, a man wealthy in his own right, one of the prime catches of any Season…or as one of the most laughable men in London.When, with deliberate insouciance, he tossed his emerald-and-tan paisley scarf over one shoulder, MissJordan lost the battle.Covering her mouth with one gloved hand, she dissolved into muffled laughter.Her mother jabbed her bony elbow hard into the girl’s ribs.Straightening at once, Miss Jordan choked, “How lovely to see you, my lord.Your costume is most magnificent.”“But of course!” His brow knit with sham concern.“Yet you sound as if you’re not well, Miss Jordan.I fear from your glassy eyes you’re coming down with an indisposition.” He drew back as if from the plague.“Please! I’m too important a gentleman, and too much in demand at parties, to be exposed to such a threat.”This time, she couldn’t contain a snort, and he stepped back to the far end of the path [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.“Because they are expensive—”“And in dreadful taste, and suitable only for a man, and just the sort of thing you would expect from someone who disapproves of your marriage to the gardener’s daughter.” Celeste tapped her slipper-clad foot in annoyance.“What difference does it make, anyway? When the time is right, Maltin’s going to break into the Moricadians’ apartment, steal everything back, and do another search for clues as to their purpose.”“I know.” Throckmorton put his hand on her shoulder.“I know, darling.”She took a steadying breath, then closed her eyes as if she were groping for her temper.She must not have found it, for she snipped, “You cannot help it if some of your family are jackasses.”Throckmorton met Jude’s gaze and made a gesture over his belly, then sliced a glance at Celeste.Ah.She was increasing.That explained her sensitivity about a matter she would have normally shrugged away.In a chatty tone, Jude said, “Comte de Guignard and Bouchard believe that Englishmen are worthless, good-for-nothing fribbles, and I’ve worked hard to confirm their prejudice.” He had tagged along after them, contrived to meet them wherever they went, and played the part of a simpleton and a sycophant so in love with Continental culture as to be oblivious to insult or innuendo.“I’ve succeeded.They believe me to be the country’s biggest fool.”“Have they realized you’re Michael’s brother?” Throckmorton asked.“Yes, but they don’t know I was in Moricadia at the same time as Michael.” Bitterness etched Jude’s smile.“That’s part of the reason they despise me so much.They ordered the death of my brother, and I appear to be so stupid that I want their approval.”“Do you yet have any inkling why they’ve come to London?” Throckmorton asked.“No, but they’ve begun to lower their guards.It’s Bouchard we need to watch,” Jude leaned forward.“The key lies with him.”“We don’t know that for sure.” Throckmorton leaned forward, too, caught up in the recitation of the facts and seeking the answers that must be there.“I do.I lived in Moricadia for months waiting for Michael to stop gambling…although now I know he was doing more than gambling.” He had been playing the hero.Damn him.“It was Bouchard who advised Comte de Guignard and Prince Sandre to bring in the spas and the gambling, and their success is beyond anyone’s imagining.Along with the money, Bouchard brought in the criminals to run the country.He’s a thug in fancy dress clothes.The people in Moricadia are downtrodden and angry, and they hate him as they do no one else.They fear him as they do no one else.”“When I lived in Paris, even then there was talk that France should absorb Moricadia, take over the spas and the gambling, and put the money into their own treasury.” Celeste sounded almost normal.“De Guignard and Bouchard don’t want that—but why not go to France to argue against union?” Throckmorton demanded.“Why come to England?”“To make trouble between the two countries,” Celeste said.That was easy enough to do.The state of affairs with the Russians had grown dire.They wished to take over the continent of Asia, and Britain and France had too much money and power at stake to allow that to happen.So the two unlikely allies were putting aside centuries of distrust to join together and fight the Russians.At least, that was the plan.In truth, the French diplomats despised the English, the English diplomats despised the French, and certain men were willing to go to any lengths to destroy the alliance.“If de Guignard and Bouchard make enough trouble, they’ll distract France from Moricadia.”Celeste dabbed at her eyes.“Like a house of cards, the peace between France and England would be easy to knock down, and that would mean war.”A faint tap sounded on the door, and in his low voice, Throckmorton’s secretary said, “Sir, she’s here.”With a flounce and a smirk, Celeste said, “How fortunate you’ve come tonight, Lord Huntington, for our visitor concerns you.”Throckmorton’s mouth grew tight, and to his secretary, he replied, “Send her in.”The most extraordinary young woman walked through the door.She was young, perhaps twenty, beautiful and plump in a toothsome way, petite in height with a presence that commanded the eyes.Her sumptuous bosom quivered as it spilled over the top of her low-cut gown, which was sewn to perfection, yet the scarlet color easily outshone Jude’s most outlandish costume.Her abundance of blond hair was caught at her neck, and her slumberous green eyes surveyed the room, then settled on Jude.She moved toward him, her skirts swishing with each step she took.He found himself on his feet, watching her.As she drew near, an earthy scent swam in his head, and when she placed her hand on his arm, he discovered a heretofore overlooked affinity for petite, curvaceous, green-eyed blondes.“What a glorious gentleman you are.” She drew each word into a caress that made him wonder what her order of business might be—and he knew that if she wished to make him her order of business, he would submit to her demands.But Celeste interrupted her, and pointed at Garrick.“This gentleman is Mr.Throckmorton.”“Oh.” The woman glanced at Throckmorton’s somber, distinguished outfit and sighed.“Of course he is.I beg your pardon, Mr.Throckmorton.”“He doesn’t mind,” Celeste said blithely.To Jude, she explained, “Miss Gloriana Dollydear is an opera singer, and our newest weapon in this war.Sit down, Miss Dollydear, while I explain the situation to Lord Huntington.”Chapter 5“A lovely afternoon after so many days of rain, LordHuntington.” Lady Rutherford’s affected voice brought Jude to a halt.“Indeed, Lady Rutherford.So good to see you and your lovely daughter, Miss Jordan!” Jude bowed so extravagantly he might have been in the courts of Versailles rather than a gravel path in Hyde Park.“A most splendid day, and a chance to try out the newest spring styles.”Poor Miss Jordan.She was only seventeen, new toLondon, and was torn between acknowledging him as the heir to a dukedom, a man wealthy in his own right, one of the prime catches of any Season…or as one of the most laughable men in London.When, with deliberate insouciance, he tossed his emerald-and-tan paisley scarf over one shoulder, MissJordan lost the battle.Covering her mouth with one gloved hand, she dissolved into muffled laughter.Her mother jabbed her bony elbow hard into the girl’s ribs.Straightening at once, Miss Jordan choked, “How lovely to see you, my lord.Your costume is most magnificent.”“But of course!” His brow knit with sham concern.“Yet you sound as if you’re not well, Miss Jordan.I fear from your glassy eyes you’re coming down with an indisposition.” He drew back as if from the plague.“Please! I’m too important a gentleman, and too much in demand at parties, to be exposed to such a threat.”This time, she couldn’t contain a snort, and he stepped back to the far end of the path [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]