The Mask of Night (59 page)
Authors: Tracy Grant
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Historical, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Suspense, #Historical Fiction
“David doesn’t trust me anymore. I can see it in his eyes. I’m not sure you do. I can't blame you.”
"It's folly to dwell on the past."
"But you're going to think twice before you confide secrets to me. You'd be a fool if you did otherwise."
Charles took a sip of champagne. “Whom do you identify with in Julius Caesar?”
“Antony.“ Oliver's mouth twisted. “Like him, I’ve been known to make questionable alliances.”
“One revelation isn’t enough to wipe out a decade of friendship. Or a marriage.”
“The trouble is, I’m not sure what Bel and I have to build on. Or perhaps what we once had is too badly damaged. We said the right things at the wrong times. Or to put it more bluntly, I found out too late that my wife used to love me.”
A quarrel between Billy and Rose Lydgate, which Oliver was obliged to referee, put an end to the discussion. Charles returned to refilling champagne glasses. It was something, he thought, that they were all able to be in the same room and that genuine laughter filled the air. A fortnight ago, he would not have laid even money on the prospect.
Some time later he went down to his study to fetch a book he'd promised to show David. The door clicked shut softly behind him. He turned from the glass-fronted bookcase to see that O'Roarke had followed him with his usual soundlessness.
"I'm sorry," O'Roarke said. "But I wanted to say something to you, and it seemed best not to do so in front of the others. Thank you for including me in the invitation. I don't imagine it was easy. For what it's worth, I'm grateful."
Charles nodded. He meant to leave it at that, but he stood there for a moment, running his fingers over the supple leather of the bookbinding. “When you encouraged Mélanie to accept my proposal of marriage. How much of it had to do with the fact that you knew I wouldn’t try to take the easy way out of life again if I had a wife and child?”
“My dear Charles. Surely you don’t believe I’d make such a decision based on purely personal motives.”
“Not purely.”
“Besides if I was that worried about your mental state, wouldn’t I have been concerned for how you might react if you learned the truth about Mélanie?”
“But you might have known that whatever became of my marriage I wouldn’t let down a child that I’d made my own.”
O'Roarke took a step forward, out of the revealing light from the windows. “I haven’t made nearly enough decisions in my life with you at the forefront, Charles.“
He too seemed to mean to leave it there. Charles continued to watch him. O'Roarke drew a breath. "But you were one of the reasons I didn’t take Mélanie off to South America.”
Charles stared at him.
“Would you go half way across the earth if it meant you’d most likely never see Colin again?”
Charles continued to look at his father. “No,” he said. “I wouldn’t.“ His fingers tightened on the embossed Morocco. "Look—Mélanie likes being able to see you. I’d go so far as to say she needs you.”
“Mélanie doesn’t need anyone. I wouldn’t read—“
“I’m not jealous. Not in that way. Mostly not in that way. Mélanie’s happier when you’re about. I want her to be happy. And I don’t think I should deny you the right to see your—“
“Grandchildren?”
“Yes.”
Silence stretched between them. The door opened before either of them could break it. "Charles—“ Mélanie paused on the threshold taking in O'Roarke's presence.
"We were about to come back upstairs.“ Charles moved away from the bookcase. "Sorry to be gone so long."
"Lucinda's asking for the music to the new songs Schubert sent us. I thought I might have left it here—"
"On the desk.“ Charles tucked the sheet music beneath his arm together with the book.
"Thank you, darling.“ Mélanie flashed him a smile. Her gaze flickered between him and O'Roarke.
"O'Roarke is going to dine with us next week," Charles said. "We've been settling on a date."
A host of questions shot through Mélanie's eyes and remained unspoken on her lips. "What a good idea. Perhaps Thursday next would do?"
"Admirably," O'Roarke said.
"It's settled then.“ Charles moved to the door. "We should rejoin our guests."
Unspoken words and unvoiced sentiments drifted through the air. "It’s shockingly difficult to navigate the conversation and remember who knows what," Mélanie said in her usual bright tones. "I need the two of you to back me up before I get hopelessly muddled."
"I can't imagine you being anything of the sort," O'Roarke said.
"Nor can I.“ Charles opened the study door and the three of them returned to warmth and lights of the drawing room.
Historical Note
As all my books do,
The Mask of Night
blends real people and events with fictional characters and plot lines. The fate of the Dauphin, the son of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette, was a subject of much speculation. Rumors persisted that Josephine and her lover Barras had exchanged him for another boy and smuggled him out of prison. Tsar Alexander claimed Josephine had confided as much to him when he met her in 1814. DNA testing in 2000 confirmed that the Dauphin did in fact die in prison.
Hortense de Beauharnais Bonaparte did have a long-term affair with the Comte de Flahaut. In 1811, pregnant with Flahaut’s child, she went in to Switzerland in secret. Flahaut joined her before the birth of the child. His mother took the baby and raised him.
After Waterloo, Flahaut married Margaret Mercer Elphinstone, an heiress whose father, Admiral Keith, had escorted Napoleon to exile on St. Helena.
In 1820, Hortense was living in exile in Arenenberg with her children. There is no evidence that she ever visited Britain. But that doesn’t mean that she couldn’t have done…
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About the Author
Tracy Grant has been making up stories as long as she can remember and writing them down since third grade when she was assigned writing a story and realized she had a wealth of characters and plots inside her head. She studied British history at Stanford University and received the Firestone Award for Excellence in Research for her honors thesis on shifting conceptions of honor in late fifteenth century England. She lives in the San Francisco Bay Area, where she is on the board of the Merola Opera Program, a training program for professional opera singers, coaches, and stage directors. For more information about her books, please visit her website at http://tracygrant.wordpress.com
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