City of Secrets (28 page)

She slept soundly and dreamlessly until noon, when Florence arrived and swept aside both the drapes and Louise’s ineffectual protests. Maddie came groggily awake and recognized Florence only a moment before she sat down on her bed and scrutinized her face.

“My dear, you are looking positively peaked.”

Certain that she must indeed have dark circles under her tired eyes, Maddie put her hand over them and said, “I’m sorry, Florence. I suppose I do have the tiniest little headache.”

Louise harrumphed but did not contradict her. “I’ll send for some breakfast, Mrs. Malcolm.”

Florence watched Louise’s stiff back until the door closed on it, then giggled. “What a gorgon! She reminds me of a governess I had once. Why do you keep her on, Maddie? She would depress me no end.”

“She loves me,” Maddie said, having no appetite for sophisticated evasions before breakfast.

“Oh.” Florence studied her even more closely, as if Maddie might be sicker than she admitted to. Then she got up and opened Maddie’s wardrobe.

“Well, I’m sure she’s right about breakfast ... and pots of coffee to go with it. It will do you a world of good to eat something nourishing, and I’ll help you finish the coffee. Where are you off to today? Shall I help you choose something to wear?”

Maddie got out of bed and reached for her dressing gown. “Oh, I don’t know.” The delightful notion of going back to bed and not getting up until dinner time occurred only to be discarded. She would be the American Beauty Rose in front of Florence if it killed her. “I think Laurie and Daisy wanted to go to Père-Lachaise today.”

She frowned then. Had she got that right? Or was her tired mind confusing something Oliver Drummond had told her with Laurie’s plans for today? Well, it hardly mattered, although Florence gave her an odd look.

“To a graveyard? Well, of all things. Really, Maddie, you are too good, chaperoning those youngsters all around and all, but graveyards are the limit! Let the dragon—Lady Jervis, I mean—take them. You should do something for yourself today. Better still, I’ll do something. We’ll have lunch together, just us girls ... what do you say?”

“Thank you, Florence, but—”

“Now, but me no buts. That’s from Shakespeare, did you know? Someone told me so at my salon, so you see I am becoming literary after all. Anyway, we’ll have lunch at the Café Riche or Henry’s—just
entre nous
—and then we’ll go shopping for something—anything—that we don’t need and that’s outrageously expensive. I haven’t given Geoffrey a good shock in at least two days.

“Anyway,” she added, taking a dark blue afternoon dress out of the wardrobe and holding it up to herself to see how it blended with the pale green one she was wearing, “I shall need some new things for Baden. What is one expected to wear at a spa, do you know?”

“Why are you going there?”

It was just the opening Florence was fishing for. She plopped herself down next to Maddie on the sofa and said, “Bertie—I mean, the Prince of Wales—invited us! At any rate, he said he would be charmed to see us there. Isn’t that just too sweet of him? He told me all about Baden—on the map, it says Baden-Baden, goodness knows why—at tea the day we met, and yesterday he said Geoffrey and I should come along. Of course, we can’t travel in the royal carriage, more’s the pity, but I’ll find a way to get together with him; you see if I don’t.”

Maddie had no doubt of it. The prince had not only taken tea with Florence the day he arrived, but he had promised to bring some of his French friends to her next salon. Florence was over the moon with delight over her success, and for the next half hour did little but tell Maddie what the prince had said and what he would be doing and where he would be going that night. Maddie was tempted to crow a little about her own meeting with the prince in the Bois de Boulogne, but she held her tongue.

“Well, my dear,” Florence said, coming to the end of her news and reaching one soft, fragrant arm around Maddie’s shoulder.  “You just stay here and rest for another hour, so that you can come to my salon this afternoon. I’m almost certain Bertie will be there, and you wouldn’t want to miss meeting him, would you?”

Louise came in with breakfast just then, and Florence promptly took the tray out of her hands.

“That will do, Louise. I’ll serve Mrs. Malcolm while we continue our little chat.”

“Yes, madam,” Louise said, sniffing. “I’ll be outside, Mrs. Malcolm.”

Maddie smiled warmly at her to make up for Florence’s summary dismissal. “Thank you, Louise.”

Florence wrinkled her nose, but when Louise had gone, she said, “I do beg your pardon, my dear. I’ll be as sweet as pie to her later, I promise. Have some coffee.”

Maddie was relieved to find she had some appetite, and after she had swallowed a cup of coffee and some fruit, she felt much better and said so.

“I tell you what,” Florence said, apparently not concurring with this diagnosis. “You must come to Baden too, and take the waters. It’ll be far better for you and more relaxing than all this excitement here in Paris. Anyway,” she
added slyly, “your terribly handsome gentleman friend will be there. He’s left already, in fact. I saw him from my window earlier this morning.”

“What?”

“Now, don’t be coy with me, darling. I know you spent the other day in the country with Mr. Grant.”

“And
Mr. Fox and Miss Jervis.”

“Oh, pooh. You may have been chaperoning them, but who was looking after
you,
pray tell? I know that if I had a chance like that—”

“Florence, I don’t want to talk about it.”

Maddie got up and put her hands over her ears, convinced that if she let Florence reduce her relationship with Devin Grant to a juicy bit of gossip, it would vanish into the darkness, as Teddy had from the Pont Sully last night.

Oh, God. Teddy.

Her stricken look registered even on Florence, who pulled her down on the sofa again, apologizing profusely.

“Oh, my dear, I didn’t mean to pry, I swear! I was just teasing. Here, have another of these delicious little rolls, and I won’t say another word about it.”

Maddie gave up and submitted to Florence’s chatter. She supposed she was not very good company just then, and she felt a little guilty too, for not being more grateful to Florence for her friendship. She could scarcely condemn Teddy for dropping his friends if she did just the same, even if more politely. So she tried to look interested in what Florence was saying, and whatever she could do by smiling and being agreeable, she did.

Florence did not, to her credit, bring up the subject of Devin Grant again, and she did her considerable best to lighten Maddie’s mood, so that by the time Louise interrupted to say that Oliver wanted a word, Maddie almost felt she could be friends again with the voluble but good-hearted Florence. Florence had finished helping Maddie button up her dress, and they made plans to meet for tea later, since lunchtime was already well past.

At last, Florence removed herself, being gracious to Louise on the way out and even stopping to greet Oliver, who, however, limited his conversation with Mrs. Wingate to a terse good-morning. Florence shrugged lightly at Maddie, as if to say she’d done her best, and floated out, leaving her pervasive jasmine scent behind her.

The look on Oliver’s face told Maddie at once that he had something important to tell her, so she wasted no time in inviting him into her room, where Louise was busy closing the bed curtains and whisking Maddie’s night things out of sight. But Oliver took no notice of any of this.

“Mrs. Malcolm, do you know where Mr. Grant is?”

“As a matter of fact, Mrs. Wingate has just told me he left for Germany last night.”

“Yes, that would account for my not being able to reach him by telephone.”

“I had no idea Mr. Grant was in such demand,” Maddie said.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I’m sorry, Ollie, I was just being unladylike. What did
you
want to see him about?”

When he hesitated, Maddie looked at him more seriously. He had never been reluctant to confide in her before.

“What is it, Ollie?”

“I am sorry to confess, Mrs. Malcolm, that there is something I have been reluctant to discuss with you—not wishing to concern you unduly—but I now think you should know that in the course of my other inquiries, I seem to have uncovered a plot ... against the Prince of

Wales.”

Maddie raised her eyebrows. “What sort of plot?”

Oliver hesitated but said, “An assassination plot.”

“Oh, dear.” Maddie sat down on the sofa. “Does Mr. Grant know about this?”

“Yes, I went to him as soon as I had the first indication of it. Even then he was aware of it. It seems rumors have been afoot for months, but only recently has any definite plan been hinted at. In any case, he expressed his gratitude at my coming to him with this information, and we agreed to work in concert, letting as few other people into our confidence as possible.” “Including me.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right, Ollie. I understand the need for secrecy, and you need not give me any details.  But have you discovered something new that you need to tell Mr. Grant?”

 “A colleague of mine, whom I ran into unexpectedly and who has been assisting me, overheard a conversation last night that led him to believe that this attempt will take place in Germany. The assassin was not one of the men Paul overheard, unfortunately; but it appears that this man has said he is determined to succeed this time, even if he has to—to kill everyone around the prince to get at him.”

Maddie could almost feel her heat stop for a moment as she closed her eyes and a flash of picture—Devin leaning over to say something to the prince—came into her mind. She opened her eyes again. “I see.”

“Precisely. You will see also my need to reach Mr. Grant, then. Have you, Mrs. Malcolm, any idea of when the royal party will leave for Baden?”

“That is something else that Mrs. Wingate is doubtless privy to,” Maddie said, “but unfortunately it was the one thing she neglected to mention to me. I can find out for you, I expect, when we meet later today.”

She glanced inquiringly at Oliver, who nodded. “Thank you,” he said. “That will be helpful. I think, also, I should go myself to Baden as soon as possible.”

“Shall I attempt to drop a hint to the prince?” she asked. “I’m sure I could get close enough to him to do so.”

Oliver considered this but shook his head. “I understand that the prince puts no credence in such tales and would only be annoyed if such a warning came from such an—ah, unorthodox source. Also, if the plan is indeed to—to dispose of him in Baden, he will probably be quite safe at least until he leaves Paris. I will make the arrangements for your journey at once and also send a telegram to Mr. Grant on the off chance that he would inquire at the Hotel Stephanie for you, which is one of the largest hotels in the town. If that meets with your approval, of course.”

“Yes, thank you, Ollie. When will you leave, then?”

“Tonight, if possible. I shall report back to you before that, of course.”

“And Louise will begin packing for me as soon as she has said good-bye to you.”

Oliver opened his mouth to say something, but the protest was never voiced. Instead, he bowed and went off to make his arrangements, leaving Maddie to consider the implications of what he had told her.

It was obvious to her, if not to Oliver, that Devin’s sudden departure meant he, too, had discovered more about this plot against the prince—perhaps even the details of when the assassination attempt would take place, and where. If he had any hint of danger to himself for being close to the prince, Maddie was sure he would dismiss it as unimportant. He certainly would not have mentioned it to her.

But had he also discovered that Teddy was alive? She was unsure why she had not been able to bring herself to tell Oliver about that, unless because saying it confirmed it; and there was still a certain unreality about that whole predawn encounter on the bridge. It had, in any case, nothing to do with the assassination plot, and there was no point just now in adding to Oliver’s worries.

On the other hand, perhaps Devin did know that Teddy was still alive and believed he was also still involved with the anarchists, even with this new plot?
There have been rumors afoot for months,
Oliver had told her, which meant Devin might have been looking for Teddy all along. Could he possibly have been the man Oliver’s friend heard discussed, the man who made such cold-blooded threats? She had told Devin that Teddy was incapable of such things, but it had been a long time since she had seen him. He might have changed. Perhaps that was why he had run from her at the bridge—left Paris, even, for fear that if he stayed, she would, sooner or later, find him again.

Maddie was no longer surprised to find herself thinking of Teddy as a stranger. Seeing him under that lamp in the dawn mist had made her realize that she had not really wanted to find him alive for some time.

Poor Teddy.
Even if nothing had been her fault, he had still not been treated fairly by fate. She wished she had been able to see behind the happiness he always seemed to wear like the latest fashion, but which, it now seemed, had not changed whatever driving unhappiness lay beneath the façade.

The realization that Teddy was no longer a part of her did not prevent Maddie from feeling disloyal to him. She had been so insistent on her devotion to him that it had even begun to sound false to her. No wonder Devin had not believed her, even from the start.

My motives, Mr. Grant, are none of your concern.

If only she had confessed her doubts to Devin sooner, surely that would have helped to tear Teddy’s memory out of her mind? He would have understood, just as he had understood what she needed when he made love to her. But for too long she had believed that saying aloud how much she loved Teddy would make it true again, just as telling Oliver now that he was alive would make that true.

I know that if he were dead, I should feel it.

What nonsense that was. She had felt as she wanted to feel. She had wanted Teddy to be alive, but she could not prove he was; then, when he had at last slipped out of her heart, if not from her mind, and she wanted to be certain he was dead, he had appeared out of the darkness again.