“I looked so guilty,” Jessica said on a sigh, her head fallen back against the cushions, her eyes closed. “I know I did. He wanted to know why we were abroad so late at night, and with only the one horse. But Richard was magnificent, he really was, and had an answer for every question. I was his niece, our last name was Anderson, my horse had tripped and broken a foreleg so that it had to be put down. We were actors on our way to rejoin our troupe in the next village. On and on, just as calm as can be.”
“I wasn’t quite that brilliant,” Richard said, smiling. “I really did think we’d come a cropper, but at last he let us go, advising we consider the advantages to be had in emoting on the other side of the Channel during such dangerous times, as the winds of change could otherwise blow with some menace toward even the most honest of English citizens. We took his advice and none too quickly, considering Bonaparte’s advances that came soon after.” He turned toward Jessica. “Are you positive it was the same man?”
Jessica kept her eyes closed, clearly seeing something, or someone, out of her past. “I told you. Those eyes. Even with only the moonlight to see him by, a person could never look into those eyes and forget them.”
“Ravenbill,” Gideon said consideringly. “I vaguely remember the brother, the late marquis, but not this Simon fellow. Ravenbill. Bird. And you said Lady Caro was in awe?”
Jessica sat forward, tucking her legs up beneath her gown. “What she actually said was that he exudes power. what struck me most was the way she grabbed onto Mrs. Urban’s hand, as if afraid. Felicity Urban was so here-and-there, so obviously dosed with laudanum, I’m not certain what she thought of the man, or of me. At one point she seemed to be measuring me, as if attempting to calculate my worth to her. Believe me, I’ve seen that look before, as well.”
“And I apologize that you were forced to confront it tonight. But again, her ladyship seemed frightened by the man?”
“Yes, I would have to say that’s true. Neither of them was delighted to see him. He was…insolent. And he made a point of telling them to remind their husbands that he’s always about somewhere. Perhaps he meant for me to remind you, as well. I can’t say that for certain, however. Honestly, Gideon, I’m not prone to hysterics, but I had to fight to remain in my chair. Especially when he insulted your family.”
“But not to my face,” he reminded her. “At least our brash marquis shows some intelligence. Or he may have left the insult as a form of calling card. At any rate, if we Redgraves were thought to be harmless, upstanding pillars of the ton, we’d be even more insulted. Not to mention bored.”
Richard chuckled into his teacup.
“I’m so happy you’re amused, Richard,” Jessica said testily. “And don’t encourage him, he’s arrogant enough as it is. You have no idea what it was like tonight. A London ball is much like being tossed into a nest of vipers. Every word seems to contain two meanings.”
Richard patted her hand. “Well, I’m sure you did just fine, Jess. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m for my bed.”
Gideon lifted his hand to signal his agreement with Richard’s departure and then took up the seat he’d just vacated. “I had an interesting conversation tonight myself, with the husband of one of your new bosom chums.”
“Those two women are not my bosom chums,” Jessica protested. “Lady Caro is such a poor, whipped creature, and Felicity Urban, if I’m not being too fanciful, invited us to be guests at one of their horrible gatherings.”
“The cheek of the woman, to think I’d share you,” Gideon said, and then held up his hands in case Jessica decided to attack him.
But Jessica only sighed. “She ran so hot and cold. One moment as if in a daze, the next all cheery and friendly. And then, just at the end, there was a moment…”
Gideon lifted her hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss against her heated skin. “Yes?”
“She’s sending round an invitation tomorrow. I am to read it immediately. Really, it was as if she were giving me an order.” Jessica laid her head against his shoulder, her entire body sagging in fatigue. “I felt horribly sorry for them, they’re both so clearly unhappy. Did you learn anything from their husbands? You haven’t said.”
“I haven’t been given the chance to say anything,” he pointed out as he gathered her into his arms and stood up, having decided to adjourn to his bedchamber before she fell asleep against his shoulder. “However, I did manage to corral Archie Urban for five minutes. He said something interesting.”
Jessica wound her arms around his neck. “I’d say I’m too heavy for you and you should put me down, but I’m too selfish. I can’t even remember when last I slept, thanks to you. But tell me, what did he say?”
“I interrupted a conversation he was having with a few other gentlemen as they waited for an opening at one of the tables. Urban was offering the opinion Emperor Napoleon is a genius. Tactically, politically. His recent marriage to Austria’s Marie Louise a stroke of brilliance, et cetera. I raised my quizzing glass—an affectation, I know, but often quite effective—and asked if surely he meant evil genius, which he immediately agreed he did. However, I was left with the impression he was soliciting opinions, and one or two actually had agreed with him before I stepped in.”
“Are you saying Mr. Urban was sniffing the air, looking for like minds?”
“Oh, very good, Jessica. You’re better at this than you supposed.”
“Thank you.” Jessica turned her face into his chest to cover her yawn. “And that was all?”
“There was a little more. A few discreet inquiries inform me Urban’s responsibility is to see our troops quietly massing on the Peninsula are supplied adequately and in a timely fashion. Weapons, ammunition, foodstuffs, blankets, all funneled into Portugal, most especially into Lisbon. We’re preparing to go back at it with Bonaparte in full force once we’re assured of Spanish cooperation, that’s clear enough. An army is nothing without supplies. Knowing what we think we may know about the man, I find that unsettling.”
He put her down once they reached his bedchamber, and he began the pleasurable job of acting as lady’s maid for his bride.
“I find it unsettling that you were able to learn so much so quickly and easily. Why on earth would anyone tell you about—what was it you said?—a massing of troops on the Peninsula?”
“What? I’m not a man who inspires trust?”
She turned to face him, holding up her now unbuttoned gown, her nearly bared breasts distracting him mightily. “I believe you could coolly bluff your way into forcing your opponent to foolishly declare he can win the Misère Ouverte, and then make certain he doesn’t take more than three tricks. I would never play whist against you, or any other card game. Or any game at all, for that matter. Now tell me how you learned what you learned.”
“Spencer Perceval is a friend,” Gideon told her, guiding her to a chair so that he could help her off with her shoes and stockings.
“The Prime Minister? Really? Well, now I am impressed.”
“You’re weren’t before?” he asked, grinning up at her. “But much as I’d like to take the credit, it’s Max we have to thank for Perceval. He’s worked with him a time or two, on other matters. We all know how it is, Jessica. Even when we’re not formally at war with Napoleon, we’re at war with Napoleon, truces be damned.”
Jessica stood up and allowed Gideon to help her step out of her gown. She wasn’t being immodest, or coy, or anything that would give Gideon any reason for hope. She was simply a woman anxious for her bed. He may as well have been Mildred, he realized with some chagrin.
“You’ve called