Authors: Charlene Keel
“But . . . why have you not told anyone she’s your sister?” Cleome asked.
“She begged me not to. She was afraid her reputation would follow her here and it would ruin me. I have not been able to convince her otherwise, until now. So you have been jealous all this time, for no reason at all.”
“You are mistaken, sir. I am certainly not jealous of any woman you choose to ply with your attentions!” Cleome declared. “Now, if you’re going to help me save Edwina from that satyr she has married, you will finish dressing and prepare to receive Garnett and Oliver. We must act quickly. Or will I have to go and rescue her myself?”
He bowed slightly, still unsmiling, but he could not keep the amusement from his tone. “At your service, mademoiselle. But do not deceive yourself on one point.”
“And what is that?”
“I will collect what you owe me . . . this time.”
Chapter Eighteen
Before Cleome could reply, Mignon returned with Garnett and Oliver.
“Drake—” Garnett began but got no further.
“Silence!” Drake commanded. “I’ll deal with you, sir, in a moment.” To Mignon, he said quietly, “Send Richard for Mr. Collins. We’ll need him as well.”
Mignon scurried away but Cleome thought she detected a rosy glow on the woman’s cheek when the clerk’s name was mentioned.
“Drake,” Garnett put in again, “I trust Cleome has explained why I left my post in Barcelona. Please understand—”
“Not another word!” Grabbing Garnett by his coat lapels, Drake hauled him over to a chair and roughly pushed him into it. “You and I will have a private conversation, man to man, while my sister Mignon gives Oliver and Cleome some breakfast in the dining room.” Ignoring Garnett’s surprise at the revelation that Mignon was related to him, Drake continued to Cleome and Oliver as he ushered them towards the door, “We’ll join you as soon as my secretary arrives; and after we’ve fortified ourselves with some nourishment, we can make a solid plan and get this rescue mission under way.”
Mignon led them out of the library and Drake slammed the door behind them but Cleome heard his voice rise in anger as he began to interrogate Garnett.
**
Unobtrusively, servants had placed an elaborate feast on the sideboard in Drake’s well-appointed dining room. Enough, Cleome thought, to feed the army of mercenaries they would have to hire. There were scones, poached eggs, porridge, a variety of breads and biscuits, three kinds of fish, a roast of pork, potatoes (both baked and fried), chicken in a rich, savory-smelling cream sauce, a large bowl of oranges, bananas and limes, and strawberries dipped in chocolate and glazed with sugar.
“Please serve yourselves,” Mignon entreated. “I’ll fetch the tea.”
“Should we not wait for Drake, my dear?” Oliver put in when Mignon had gone. He seemed not the least bit surprised that the woman of mystery was Drake’s sibling.
“You knew!” she accused him. “Why have you never told me?”
“Umm . . . known what, exactly?” he avoided her gaze.
“About Mignon! How long have you known?”
The kindly old barrister sighed with relief. “I don’t like keeping things from you, Cleome,” he said. “But in this case I had no choice. Drake made me his solicitor, not long after you arrived in London. And as such, I could not divulge his confidences any more than I can yours. He forbade me telling anyone, even though he didn’t agree with Mignon that keeping such a secret was desirable or necessary.”
“And you let me go on resenting her?” Cleome demanded. “I, who have always considered myself a champion of women’s rights and defender of the downtrodden? I feel such a fool. And a hypocrite.”
“You’re nothing of the sort. She was never aware of your feelings.”
“But I was aware! You must never allow me to make such an error in judgment again. I count on you, Oliver.”
“Please do not berate me so this morning. I’m quite beside myself with worry.”
“Of course, my dear.” Cleome put aside her chagrin. “Now, you must not fret. I promise you that we’ll deliver your darling girl safely into your arms.”
Mignon entered with a large silver teapot. “Won’t you be seated, milady,” she said. “I can serve you if you tell me what you like.”
“That’s not necessary,” Cleome responded cordially. “Won’t you join us, Miss Stoneham?”
“Mignon is my name,” she said softly. “The nuns so christened me and it is what I like to be called. I’m afraid I have many duties to attend, milady. ’Tis the servants’ day off. Only cook is here this morning, and young Richard.”
Cleome was ashamed of the unfounded hostility she’d harbored towards this gentle creature and she wanted to engage her in conversation so that she could offer her apology and friendship. She said, “May I ask, who is Richard? Is he another relative?”
Mignon returned Cleome’s smile without reservation. “Richard is an orphan my brother found in the market, trying to steal food. Drake brought him home and employed him as footman and runner, since the lad knows the streets so well. And he’s as nimble as a dragonfly flitting round the garden.”
“Your brother has a very big heart,” Oliver observed.
“Yes,” Mignon agreed. “He is the kindest man in the world. He is also having Richard educated.”
“Do sit with us,” Cleome entreated. “At least for a moment. I . . . I wish to speak with you if I may.”
Mignon joined Cleome and Oliver at the table and after she poured their tea, she looked at Cleome expectantly. “Yes, milady?”
“I have done you a great disservice,” Cleome said. “I assumed . . . along with many others I’m afraid . . . I believed the worst of you. That’s why I didn’t make a point of introducing myself at the opening of Stoneham House, and why I have avoided speaking to you ever since, though I have encountered you in Drake’s company on other occasions. Can you forgive me?”
“There is nothing to forgive, milady. It is I who created the mystery. I am responsible for the opinion people have of me. My brother has made me see how wrong I was. Please do not give it a thought.”
“There’s no excuse for my behavior, Mignon. It was most unjust, especially since I’ve long endured a similar wrong. Almost everyone in the village where I lived shunned me because they believed me illegitimate. I never thought myself capable of judging others so harshly and I do beg your forgiveness most humbly, for I shall never forgive myself.”
“Of course, milady—” Mignon’s pardon was interrupted when Drake’s young messenger charged into the room with Mr. Collins at his heels.
“Was that fast enough for ye, me fair Mignon?” asked the enthusiastic boy, who was now fully awake.
Cleome had just a moment to note the tender gaze exchanged by Mignon and the clerk before the library door opened and Drake roared, “Mignon! Come in here, please.”
Mignon sent Richard to the kitchen to have his own breakfast and turned to the clerk. “You had better come with me, Mr. Collins. He wants you immediately,” she said and then proceeded toward the library.
With a bow to Cleome and a murmured, “Milady,” Collins nodded to Oliver and hurried after Mignon.
“Well said, Cleome,” Oliver offered. “I am touched by your gesture. I believe Mignon was, as well.”
“It wasn’t merely a gesture,” Cleome replied solemnly. “I meant every word of it. How utterly stupid I’ve been.”
**
It would be a long while before Cleome learned exactly what it was that Drake said to Garnett in the privacy of the library. When they came out at last, Garnett looked a great deal paler, but he seemed to stand somewhat taller. Collins followed Drake and the young lord into the dining room but Mignon was nowhere to be seen.
“Eat hearty, everyone,” Drake ordered. “There’s much to be done. If we are to embark upon so dangerous an undertaking, we’ll need our strength.” There was a new energy about him and a determined set to his jaw. “I’ve sent Mignon up to rest. She’s had a shock, but she has confirmed my suspicions. Now pile those plates high. I’ll not say another word until I’ve eaten my fill.”
**
Breakfast over, Drake ushered his guests back into the library and closed the door behind them. When they were all seated, he began. “I must preface this meeting with the declaration that, as Edwina’s life is in peril, we are about to launch a noble but dangerous conspiracy,” he told them solemnly, “And in so doing, there will be secrets shared and unsavory facts revealed. We cannot worry that these facts are unfit for discussion in polite company, and we haven’t time to clean them up. We are all sworn to absolute secrecy. Whatever we discuss here we will keep among this company, strictly. We’re about to engage in a battle of wits with an intelligent but immoral villain. If we are to accomplish our goal, we must play a better game than he. Are we all agreed?”
Everyone in the room put forth the assurance that they were indeed.
“And further, we must swear to do whatever is necessary to free Edwina from this monster.” Drake turned to Cleome. “That includes you, milady. I’d much prefer to leave you safe here with Oliver and hire a woman to play the role I have in mind for you.”
“Certainly not. Edwina is my best friend. I’m going with you.”
“You must be willing to follow orders, just as the men must do.”
“Of course.”
“Whatever ruse we decide upon, it must be convincing—and Paolo is no fool.”
She looked at him serenely and said with unmistakable resolve, “I’ll do whatever is necessary to save Edwina—as long as it is truly necessary.”
“Excellent,” he said, satisfied that he still had her heart, and that it would keep until the mission was completed. “The man who held my sister hostage for three years and treated her so cruelly is none other than Paolo, Count Paresi,” he announced. “When Garnett told me of his relationship with the infamous Dr. Rupert, that confirmed it.”
“But . . . Paolo was at the opening of your club,” Oliver protested. “Mignon must have seen him there.”
“She didn’t recognize him. You remember she fainted, early in the evening. It was because something frightened her but at the time, she couldn’t name what it was. The ‘gentlemen’ who attended the gatherings at which she was so cruelly used liked to disguise themselves with powdered wigs and masks. They had their reputations to consider, you see, as did Paolo. And Mignon was also drugged, as Garnett says Edwina is. That is why the count has such affection for his physician.”
“Then he is indeed capable of killing my niece,” said Oliver.
“Exactly. We must act soon,” Drake declared. From a nearby cabinet, he took a rolled-up map of Europe and unfurled it across his large desk. “Collins, make arrangements for a boat to take us across the Channel to France—with our horses—here.” He pointed on the map to Le Havre. “We’ll ride overland to Monte Carlo, where I’ll have a ship moored, which we’ll take on to Palermo.”
“Yes sir,” Collins responded, beginning to scribble notes on a sheet of paper.
“Milady,” Drake now addressed Cleome. “You’ll write to Edwina at once to inform her that you and I are embarking on a lover’s holiday, a tour of Italy, which will include my villa in Naples—”
“That will never work,” Cleome remarked objectively.
“And why not, pray tell?”
“Because she knows how I despise—” she began, then amended her opening volley. “She knows how I feel about you,” she said. “And we cannot be sure she hasn’t shared that information with her husband.”
“Then write that we’ve made up our quarrel and we now find each other irresistible.” He added with smug good humor, “All the world loves a lover, milady, and Paolo will not be able to resist such a prospect of entertainment. Please don’t worry. If we are forced to share a bedroom, I’ll see that your virtue remains intact. Write Edwina that we’d like to call on them when my ship docks in Naples, and if Paolo will have word awaiting us there, we’ll proceed immediately to the Isola di Paresi. Mr. Collins!”
“Yes sir?”
“You’ll contact every man whose name is on a list that Oliver will give you by nightfall. See that they are well armed and outfitted, and see that crew quarters on the ship are made ready. They will travel separately and arrive in Monte Carlo at different times, so as not to attract attention. Have the captain’s cabin prepared for Lady Cleome and the mate’s cabin for myself. Also, hire a fishing boat that will sleep a dozen men, and make sure it’s fully equipped for fishing. It must be authentic. From here, we’ll take my Prince Talleyrand and Epitome, and mounts for Mr. Easton and Richard. In Monte Carlo, secure a mount for Edwina and stable it there with my horses.”
“You’re taking the boy?” Cleome asked. “What if you cannot keep him safe?”
“I have a job in mind for him, milady,” Drake replied easily. “He’s a resourceful lad of many talents. He’ll be quite safe.”
“What will I . . . that is,” Garnett stammered. “What can I do, Drake?”
“Make a map of Paresi’s island—one for every man—and sketches of the house. Everything you can remember. You’ll resume your journey on the
Lady Ramona
in Monte Carlo and return to the island as previously scheduled. Paresi’s expecting you. You’ll rejoin our party in Naples.” Drake saw Cleome start, and her eyes momentarily fill with tears, when she heard the name of his new ship and realized he had christened it in her mother’s memory. He pretended not to notice. “When all is ready, sir,” he continued to Garnett, “you’ll return to the island—but you will stay out of site. You must get Edwina out of that house and back to the ship, once Cleome and I have distracted the count. You are to follow my orders exactly, Garnett. Is that understood?”
“It is. Quite,” was the meek response.