Authors: Andrea Penrose
Sweet Revenge (13 page)
He stared at her, unblinking. “An interesting argument, Miss Smith. But for all your fancy verbal footwork, you still haven’t explained just how you intend to put theory into practice.”
“I was just getting to that.” Arianna pushed back from the table with a contented sigh. “Ahhhh, that was delicious,” she said, savoring the pleasant warmth radiating through her body. She had gone hungry often enough not to take it for granted. “I think much better on a full stomach.”
“Then you ought to be a veritable genius,” said Saybrook, eyeing her empty plate.
She responded by pouring the last bit of hot chocolate and nudging the cup his way. “While you are still snappish as a starved mastiff. Finish this while I talk.”
He looked about to argue, then picked up the drink and took a small sip. “Now kindly continue, before I swoon from suspense.”
Arianna smoothed at a fold in her wrapper. “I think we both agree that the person responsible for poisoning the Prince was either me or one of the guests at Lady Spencer’s party, correct?”
The earl gave a tiny nod.
“Let’s assume I’m telling the truth, so that would mean our remaining suspects are all ladies and gentlemen who move in the highest circle of Society.” She didn’t bother to ask for his affirmation. “Which means that for me to get close to them—close enough to learn their most intimate secrets—I will need to be accepted as one of their own.”
Saybrook appeared to be more interested in the carved acanthus leaf ceiling molding than her words.
Ignoring his wandering gaze, she forged on. “How, you may ask, do I intend to do that? Well, the answer is ingeniously simple. Your uncle—the Right Honorable Mr. Mellon—”
“I’m acquainted with my relative’s name,” he murmured, which showed that he was listening after all.
“I’m aware that Mr. Mellon is a highly respected member of the
ton
, a paragon of virtue, a pattern card of propriety. So, if he were to introduce a distant female relative into Society, she would be welcomed without question. Embraced, as it were, with open arms.”
ton
, a paragon of virtue, a pattern card of propriety. So, if he were to introduce a distant female relative into Society, she would be welcomed without question. Embraced, as it were, with open arms.”
That seemed to get his attention.
“Especially if word went out that she was a very wealthy widow. Men are attracted to money, all the more so when it is attached to a lady who is not a skittish virgin. And I know enough about the most likely suspect to offer just the right enticements so that he will be drawn to me—or, rather, my persona—like a moth to a flame.”
When Saybrook didn’t react right away, she asked, “So, what do you say?”
“I would say,” he replied slowly, “you have a mind that rivals that of Machiavelli.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“I’m not sure it was meant as one.” He blew out his breath. “Clearly you are clever. And wily.”
“Which are just the sort of qualities you need to catch a cunning criminal. Fight fire with fire.”
“Yes, but that brings us back to the matter of trust. How do I know you won’t run off and leave me in the lurch?”
“That is a chance you will have to take,” she said. “But be assured that I have my own reasons for wishing to see this through. The fact that we have common goals should put your mind at ease.” Seeing his frown, she quickly added, “And after all, it’s not like you have much to lose. At the moment, you have no real leads, no real suspects.”
“Save for you,” he reminded her.
Arianna waved it off with an impatient huff. “You’ll only waste your precious time pursuing that idea, sir.” She paused for a moment. “By the by, why is time of the essence in tracking down the culprit?”
It was his turn to evade a question. “The reason is not relevant to your interests, Miss Smith.”
Confident that she would find a way to worm the truth out of him if they joined forces, Arianna let it pass with a shrug. “Fair enough. So let’s return to my proposal, Lord Saybrook. Surely you see that the positives far outweigh the negatives.”
He fingered his chin, and she could tell he was giving it serious thought.
“Come, you have to admit that there is no reason it won’t work. Chef Alphonse simply disappears, as befits a canny murderer. I, in turn, make an entrance into Society as a relative of Mr. Mellon and his family, which is all very proper and according to protocol.”
“There are a number of rather important details, such as a fashionable wardrobe and a respectable residence. To be credible you cannot exist as a will-o’-the-wisp.”
“True, but all of these things can be easily worked out.” Arianna feigned a casual shrug.
Money, bloody money.
The cursed stuff—or lack of it—had controlled so much of her life. And now was no exception. Her plan depended on how much of his own the earl was willing to part with.
Money, bloody money.
The cursed stuff—or lack of it—had controlled so much of her life. And now was no exception. Her plan depended on how much of his own the earl was willing to part with.
“You’ve plenty of blunt,” she went on. “Surely you won’t mind spending a bit to drape yourself in the glory of catching the Prince’s poisoner. I’m sure His Royal Highness will reward you handsomely.”
His eyes narrowed. “I’m not looking for another medal, Miss Smith. Or money.”
“Ah, yes. Noble principle.” Perhaps it was a mistake to mock him, but she couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice. “Well, not everyone can afford to have such integrity, Lord Saybrook. Most of us are willing to sell ourselves quite cheaply.”
“But not you, Miss Smith,” he responded, matching her tone. “What you are suggesting will cost me a pretty penny. A fancy wardrobe . . . a lady’s maid . . . a residence and retainers.” His brow rose a notch. “While we’re at it, shall we add in a matched pair of winged unicorns to fly your spun-sugar carriage to the moon?”
“Not necessary. I told you, sir, I’m not going anywhere until we solve this case.”
“We?”
He chuffed out a harsh breath. “What makes you think you can carry off this charade? It’s one thing to skulk around a darkened kitchen disguised as a rough-mannered man. But to parade as a gently bred lady under the glittering lights of a Mayfair ballroom will take more than
cojones. . . .
” He let his words trail off.
He chuffed out a harsh breath. “What makes you think you can carry off this charade? It’s one thing to skulk around a darkened kitchen disguised as a rough-mannered man. But to parade as a gently bred lady under the glittering lights of a Mayfair ballroom will take more than
cojones. . . .
” He let his words trail off.
“I know more about your world than you might imagine.” Vague memories stirred, like the flutter of gossamer silk in a summer breeze.
Candlelight and music. Champagne popping and couples dancing. The dulcet tones of her mother’s laughter rising up to her hiding place at the top of the marble staircase.
Candlelight and music. Champagne popping and couples dancing. The dulcet tones of her mother’s laughter rising up to her hiding place at the top of the marble staircase.
Strange, but it suddenly felt as if a flock of butterflies were beating their wings against her ribs.
Clearing her throat, she summoned from somewhere deep within herself the cultured tones of an English aristocrat. “I promise you, Lord Saybrook, I am quite capable of playing the role of a respectable female.”
She looked up to find the earl’s eyes boring into her. “Who are you?” he mused. “Not that I expect an answer.”
Arianna brushed off the odd sensation. “My past isn’t important,” she said softly. “All that should concern you is what I can do for you in the next little while.”
Saybrook rose and went to stand by the windows. Backlit by the morning sun, he appeared as a stark sliver of black, all sharp angles and impenetrable shadows.
“Not a soul is aware of my presence in London,” she added. “Indeed, most people aren’t even aware that I still exist. Which should count as yet another point in favor of my plan.”
“Yes, it’s doubtful Grentham knows anything about you,” conceded the earl. He turned abruptly. “He would have pounced by now.”
She could sense that he was wavering. As a distraction, she pointed to the plate of chocolate wafers that Elena had brought in. “You might as well begin your healing regimen right away. If you are to be of any use, you need to build up your strength.”
He ran a finger over the glossy dark discs. “I thought you didn’t share your secrets.”
“Seeing as you shared your grandmother’s journals—”
“Unwillingly, I might add.”
“Be that as it may, I thought it only fair to reciprocate.”
“Yet you’ve taken great pains to tell me you have no principles,” pointed out Saybrook. “Isn’t that a contradiction?”
“No doubt. I also told you I don’t feel compelled to abide by any rules. You will have to get used to my mercurial habits.”
Arianna could almost see his mind working.
Lies and flatteries, deceptions and betrayals.
The earl was wondering whether he was being set up. Ensnared in a silken web.
Lies and flatteries, deceptions and betrayals.
The earl was wondering whether he was being set up. Ensnared in a silken web.
He rubbed at his injured leg. “We’ve spent a lot of time discussing the Prince’s poisoner, but have you forgotten about Major Crandall? Why he wanted you dead is just as great a mystery.”
“Yes, it is.” Arianna gave a small smile of triumph. “You solve that one while I apply myself to the other. Assuming, of course, that you accept the terms of my offer.”
“You drive a hard bargain.”
“Does that intimidate you, Lord Saybrook?”
The challenge seemed to spark a new light in the depth of his eyes. There was, she reminded herself, a luminous intelligence there, though the opium had made it difficult to discern.
Cat and mouse.
They would both be playing a dangerous game, each determined to be the predator and not the prey.
They would both be playing a dangerous game, each determined to be the predator and not the prey.
His mouth curled up at the corners. “Oh, be assured that I am tougher than I look.”
She felt her mouth go a little dry. “As am I, sir.”
Saybrook acknowledged the assertion with a small nod.
“So, do we have a deal?” asked Arianna.
“I will likely regret it, but yes, we have a deal, Miss Smith.” Picking up a piece of the chocolate, he broke off a sliver and popped it into his mouth. “Now get dressed. We must move quickly if we have any hope of making this work.”
9
From the chocolate notebooks of Dona Maria Castellano
Ha! I have made another scientific discovery! In 1570, chocolate was being used as a medicine in Spain. Francisco Hernandez, the royal physician to King Philip II, believed that it was beneficial, and prescribed it to reduce fevers and relieve discomfort in hot weather. I have my doubts about the effectiveness of such treatments, but I applaud his intelligence in realizing the healthful benefits of chocolate. . . .
Salted Chocolate Caramels
2 cups heavy cream
10½ ounces fine-quality bittersweet chocolate (no more
than 60% cacao if marked), finely chopped
1¾ cups sugar
½ cup light corn syrup
¼ cup water
¼ teaspoon salt
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into tablespoon pieces
2 teaspoons flaky sea salt, such as Maldon
vegetable oil for greasing
10½ ounces fine-quality bittersweet chocolate (no more
than 60% cacao if marked), finely chopped
1¾ cups sugar
½ cup light corn syrup
¼ cup water
¼ teaspoon salt
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into tablespoon pieces
2 teaspoons flaky sea salt, such as Maldon
vegetable oil for greasing
1. Line bottom and sides of an 8-inch straight-sided square metal baking pan with 2 long sheets of crisscrossed parchment.
2. Bring cream just to a boil in a 1- to 1½-quart heavy saucepan over moderately high heat, then reduce heat to low and add chocolate. Let stand 1 minute, then stir until chocolate is completely melted. Remove from heat.
3. Bring sugar, corn syrup, water, and salt to a boil in a 5- to 6-quart heavy pot over moderate heat, stirring until sugar is dissolved. Boil, uncovered, without stirring but gently swirling pan occasionally, until sugar is deep golden, about 10 minutes. Tilt pan and carefully pour in chocolate mixture (mixture will bubble and steam vigorously). Continue to boil over moderate heat, stirring frequently, until mixture registers 255°F on thermometer, about 15 minutes.
4. Add butter, stirring until completely melted, then immediately pour into lined baking pan (do not scrape any caramel clinging to bottom or side of saucepan). Let caramel stand 10 minutes; then sprinkle evenly with sea salt. Cool completely in pan on a rack, about 2 hours.
5. Carefully invert caramel onto a clean, dry cutting board, then peel off parchment. Turn caramel salt side up. Lightly oil blade of a large, heavy knife and cut into 1-inch squares.
T
he next few days passed in a blur. Modistes, milliners, parasols, corsets . . . the list of shops to visit and things to order seemed endless. As did the long sessions with Lord Mellon and his wife, reviewing proper etiquette and the hierarchy of Polite Society.
he next few days passed in a blur. Modistes, milliners, parasols, corsets . . . the list of shops to visit and things to order seemed endless. As did the long sessions with Lord Mellon and his wife, reviewing proper etiquette and the hierarchy of Polite Society.
Like any savage place, London had its own laws of the jungle.
Arianna saw nothing of Saybrook. After discreetly delivering her to his uncle’s residence and recruiting him as a reluctant ally, the earl had disappeared. Mellon was far too well-mannered to express his true feelings, but worry was writ plain on his patrician face. Did he wonder whether he was harboring a murderer in his home? Or were his fears all for the consequences his nephew would suffer if this deceit of Whitehall became known.
They would, she guessed, be dire.
Well, the earl would have to look out for himself. As for carrying out her own part of the plan, she didn’t intend to fail.
By the end of the interlude, even Mellon had been forced to concede that she learned her lessons well. Perhaps, thought Arianna sardonically, she had absorbed the essence of aristocratic bearing from her mother’s milk. She remembered Lady Anne as an ethereal beauty, surrounded by an air of absolute tranquility.
The calm before the storm.
Her father’s life had gone to pieces upon her death, no longer held together by his wife’s serene good sense.
The calm before the storm.
Her father’s life had gone to pieces upon her death, no longer held together by his wife’s serene good sense.
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