Sweet Revenge (25 page)
Authors: Andrea Penrose
By 1700, there were over two thousand chocolate houses open in London. They served as social clubs—for men, of course—and became known as places of political intrigue. I think Sandro would appreciate the fact that chocolate helped foment revolutionary ideas. Even as a young boy, he had very egalitarian views for a titled peer; I am proud of his principles, but I fear such they will lead him into trouble. . . .
Chocolate Whiskey Bundt Cake
1 cup unsweetened cocoa powder (not Dutch-processed),
plus 3 tablespoons for dusting pan
1½ cups brewed coffee
½ cup American whiskey
2 sticks unsalted butter, cut into 1-inch pieces
2 cups sugar
2 cups all-purpose flour
1¼ teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon salt
2 large eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
plus 3 tablespoons for dusting pan
1½ cups brewed coffee
½ cup American whiskey
2 sticks unsalted butter, cut into 1-inch pieces
2 cups sugar
2 cups all-purpose flour
1¼ teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon salt
2 large eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
1. Put oven rack in middle position and preheat oven to 325ºF. Butter 3-quart (10-inch) Bundt pan well, then dust with 3 tablespoons cocoa powder, knocking out excess.
2. Heat coffee, whiskey, butter, and remaining cocoa powder in a 3-quart heavy saucepan over moderate heat, whisking, until butter is melted. Remove from heat, then add sugar and whisk until dissolved, about 1 minute. Transfer mixture to a large bowl and cool 5 minutes.
3. While chocolate mixture cools, whisk together flour, baking soda, and salt in a bowl. Whisk together eggs and vanilla in a small bowl, then whisk into cooled chocolate mixture until combined well. Add flour mixture and whisk until just combined (batter will be thin and bubbly). Pour batter into Bundt pan and bake until a wooden pick inserted in center comes out clean, 40 to 50 minutes.
4. Cool cake completely in pan on a rack, about 2 hours. Loosen cake from pan using tip of a dinner knife, then invert rack over pan and turn cake out onto rack.
T
he blaze of lights, brilliant in its fire . . . the thrum of voices, edged with anticipation . . . the feel of a costume, disguising her real self. . .
he blaze of lights, brilliant in its fire . . . the thrum of voices, edged with anticipation . . . the feel of a costume, disguising her real self. . .
Quelling a last little flutter of nerves, Arianna glided into the crowded ballroom, reminding herself of the ragtag theater in Barbados and how many times she had acted out a part in a play. This was just a more sumptuous stage, and the audience, despite their wealth and veneer of worldly sophistication, was just as willing to be deceived.
“You are looking deliciously lovely tonight, Lady Wolcott.” Gavin bowed low over her hand. When he lifted his head, it was to reveal a wolfish smile.
“Good enough to eat?” she teased in a throaty murmur.
“Oh, I imagine the taste would be sublimely sweet.” It was Concord who replied. He sidled closer, forcing his friend to step back, and took hold of her gloved palm. “Allow me to claim the first dance.”
Gavin looked a little miffed but didn’t protest.
“How can I resist such a charming invitation?” said Arianna with a coy flick of her fan.
He offered his arm, and led her onto the dance floor.
“Thank you for the flowers this morning, sir,” she said, stepping just a touch closer than was proper. “How very kind of you.”
“I regret that I was unable to be as attentive as I wished last night.”
“Oh, you gentlemen and your boring matters of business.” She made a little pout. “It’s quite naughty of you to let it interfere with pleasure. But I shall allow you to make up for your neglect.”
“I was hoping you would.” His palm flattened on the small of her back, the slight friction raising an involuntary shiver. He smiled, interpreting her reaction as something other than loathing. “Tomorrow night we are having another party. Will you come?”
“Oh, yes,” she replied, looking up through her lashes. “It’s a pleasure to be part of such an interesting group.”
“Just as it’s a pleasure to discover someone who has an appetite for enjoying all that life has to offer,” said Concord in a low whisper. “If you truly find our gatherings to your taste, we may invite you to become a member of an even more select group. A club, if you will. One that meets on occasion to partake of very special treats.”
Arianna hid her excitement with a breathy laugh. “I assure you, I’m
very
interested.”
very
interested.”
“I thought you might be.” The steps of the waltz drew them back among the other twirling couples, and for the rest of the melody they exchanged naught but light pleasantries. When the music ended, he bowed low over her hand. “Alas, I shall not be able to request another dance, Lady Wolcott, for I fear that another engagement demands my presence.”
“I do hope you won’t be distracted tomorrow,” she murmured.
“I shall take care that no more unwanted interruptions occur.”
Gavin’s approach to claim the next set ended the exchange. Tapping her fan to Concord’s shoulder, she flashed him a wink. “I shall hold you to your word, sir.”
For the next hour, Arianna spun across the polished parquet, one partner blurring into another. Several of Concord’s cronies were among them, as well as a number of gentlemen introduced to her by Mellon. She seemed to be treading a fine line between good and bad.
Light and dark
. Glancing around the glittering ballroom, Arianna reminded herself that she couldn’t afford the slightest stumble.
Light and dark
. Glancing around the glittering ballroom, Arianna reminded herself that she couldn’t afford the slightest stumble.
A second look did not reveal Saybrook among the guests. He might be in one of the side rooms, she mused. Or he might have decided to change his plans. Regardless, he could find no fault with her actions this evening—she had performed her assigned duty of distraction.
Suddenly thirsty, she requested that her next partner, a captain in the Coldstream Guards, fetch a glass of punch in the short interlude between sets.
Her drink, however, was brought back by a different gentleman, who explained that the captain had been called away on a different duty.
“Oh?” Arianna eyed the stranger over the rim of the glass. A thin visage, tapering to a pointed chin, a straight nose, pointing to a pair of narrow lips—his face would have been unremarkable, save the intensity of his gunmetal-gray eyes. Something about them stirred a sense of unease.
Dropping her gaze, she asked, “I do hope it’s nothing serious.”
He responded with a razor-thin smile. “That remains to be seen, Lady Wolcott.”
Perhaps it was just her imagination, but he seemed to be trying to frighten her. “Dear me, that sounds rather ominous,” said Arianna lightly before pausing for a long sip of her drink. “Have we met, sir?” she challenged, deciding to match his slightly aggressive tone.
“I’ve not yet had the pleasure of a formal introduction, but having heard so much about you, madam, I couldn’t resist the opportunity to make your acquaintance.” His bow was barely more than a dip of his head. “I am Lord Grentham.”
The announcement turned her insides to ice.
“Allow me to take the captain’s place,” he said as the musicians struck up the first notes of a waltz. It was more of an order than a request.
Somehow, she forced her lips to bend in a smile. There was nothing to do but brazen it out and slide into a second—or was it third?—skin
.
.
I am not quite sure who I am anymore.
“But of course.” Setting aside her glass, Arianna let him lead her out onto the dance floor. “Your name is familiar, sir—I must have heard it mentioned by Mr. Mellon. Are the two of you friends?”
“I am well acquainted with all of your relatives, including the Earl of Saybrook.” Grentham spun them through the first turn. “Indeed, I am well acquainted with most everyone in London Society. Save for you.”
“Alas, you won’t find me very interesting, sir. I’ve lived far removed from the glitter and glamour of city life.”
“On the contrary, Lady Wolcott. You fascinate me.”
Fighting down a feeling of vertigo, Arianna moved through another twirl.
Steady, steady.
There was no reason to panic—she had been in slippery situations before.
Steady, steady.
There was no reason to panic—she had been in slippery situations before.
“Then it seems you are easily amused, sir.”
In another man, the rumble in his throat might have been mistaken for a laugh. “Ask anyone and you will be assured that I have no sense of humor.”
“And why is that?” she asked.
“Because I am in charge of state security, Lady Wolcott, and as such, it is my duty to keep the country safe from those nefarious persons who would do it harm.”
“I can see that is no laughing matter, sir.”
Grentham subjected her to a piercing stare. Up close, his eyes appeared even more steely.
Sharp. Merciless.
They bore into her with unrelenting intensity.
Sharp. Merciless.
They bore into her with unrelenting intensity.
“No, it is not. I take my responsibilities very seriously.”
Arianna had long ago learned that any show of fear encouraged a predator to go for the jugular. Lifting her chin, she regarded him with a show of sangfroid. “Then I wonder why you choose to indulge in such frivolous activities as dancing, Lord Grentham. Especially with a provincial nobody.”
“Oh, don’t underestimate yourself, Lady Wolcott.” His voice dropped a notch. “Be assured I don’t.”
She assumed an expression of polite puzzlement. “I confess, sir, I’m not sure that I follow your meaning.”
A quick sidestep and intricate twirl seemed deliberately designed to throw her off balance. “And yet your footwork seems extraordinarily adroit,” he remarked after she had come through the moves without missing a step.
“Dancing is a skill that all proper young ladies are expected to master.”
The minister’s gaze shifted for an instant, as if distracted by a movement across the crowded room.
“Along with a number of other feminine wiles,” murmured Grentham.
“La, you appear to have a harsh opinion of the opposite sex, sir.” Arianna batted her lashes, hoping her nonchalance didn’t ring too false. Given his interest in her, the minister must be aware of her attraction to Concord and his crowd, so a bit of boldness was in character. “Is there nothing I can do to win your regard?”
His flash of teeth was clearly not meant to be a smile. “We shall see, Lady Wolcott, we shall see.”
They danced through the next few figures in silence. Then, much to her relief, the music rose to a sweeping crescendo and came to a flourishing end.
“Thank you for such a delightful interlude,” said the minister as he escorted her to the perimeter of the room. An undertone of mockery gave an ominous edge to his words. “I enjoyed myself immensely.”
Yes, I imagine that you did,
thought Arianna.
thought Arianna.
He kept hold of her hand for just a fraction longer. “By the by, I won’t find any record of a William Wolcott in Yorkshire, will I?”
“Of course you will,” she replied without hesitation. “Why would I lie, sir?”
“I don’t know, Lady Wolcott. But I intend to find out.”
Inwardly shaken by the encounter, Arianna signaled to a passing footman for a glass of champagne. Being adrift in a sea of strangers only heightened her awareness of all the hidden shoals beneath the surface of London Society. The myriad faces, alight with . . .
Spotting the earl across the room, she suddenly veered away from the secluded spot behind the potted palms.
“Any shelter in a storm,” she whispered under her breath. Saybrook was standing apart from the crowd with an elderly lady who, despite her advanced age, still possessed a regal beauty. It appeared that they were engaged in a private conversation.
Ah, but I am family,
she thought wryly.
she thought wryly.
It would appear odd, too, if she did not pay her respects to him.
The earl looked up as she approached, his expression hovering somewhere between wariness and welcome. “You see, Aunt Constantina, I told you that our newly arrived relative would be anxious to make your acquaintance,” he said dryly. “Lady Wolcott, I’m sure the dowager Marchioness of Sterling needs no introduction.”
“None whatsoever,” responded Arianna, picking up her cue. “It is, of course, a pleasure to finally meet you, Lady Sterling.”
The dowager raised her quizzing glass to one eye, the thick lens magnifying its speculative gleam. After a long moment of scrutiny, she let the beribboned handle fall back against her bosom. “What side of the family are you from?” she inquired brusquely.
“Lady Wolcott’s mother was a Peabody,” interceded Saybrook smoothly.
“Hmmph.” Another look, this one unaided by special optics. “I can’t say that I see the resemblance.”
“Such things are not always so apparent,” replied the earl. Before his aunt could respond, he quickly changed the subject. “I see you have met Lord Percival Grentham, Lady Wolcott.”
“Yes, and I cannot say that the experience is one I care to repeat.”
“And no wonder.” The dowager gave a small sniff. “These days I hear he is better known as ‘
Persecute
’ Grentham. He was not, however, such an odious man in his youth. His mother would be greatly disappointed at what a stick in the mud he has become.”
Persecute
’ Grentham. He was not, however, such an odious man in his youth. His mother would be greatly disappointed at what a stick in the mud he has become.”
“Yes, but like most of London’s citizens, she would be terrified to say it aloud, for fear of being hauled off to prison on charges of sedition,” quipped the earl.
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