This act of generosity on Justine’s part was to prove her downfall. When the time had come for her to find a new protector, she had chosen unwisely by agreeing to become the mistress of a sinister, shadowy figure who had close links with the man who four years previously had declared himself Emperor.
Her new lover had not been slow to make use of all Justine Baron’s talents. By removing Louise from the farm and placing her in a secluded house, where she had become a virtual prisoner, he had attained the means by which he could force Justine to do precisely as he had wished.
Within weeks she had been despatched across the Channel, where she had swiftly found employment in the establishment of a famous Bond Street modiste. If the modiste had been faintly uneasy about her new employee’s ability to obtain silks and laces at a much reduced rate, she had kept her suspicions to herself, and had not asked too many questions concerning Justine’s frequent trips to the south coast. Which, of course, had allowed Justine to pass on the secret information obtained from the British traitor.
‘I seem to remember you mentioned that you accompanied your mistress to England, Marie,’ Katherine remarked as a thought suddenly occurred to her.
‘Yes, mademoiselle. That was when I learnt to speak your language. We were there for a little over two years.’
‘And in all that time you never once saw the man who sold my country’s secrets?’
Marie shook her head. ‘My mistress did not want me involved. I cooked and cleaned in the little house we rented, and never went to the shop in Bond Street. It was at the shop, I think, that that devil passed on the information to my mistress, for no one ever came to the house, except Sir Giles on that one occasion.’
Katherine frowned. ‘I suppose Sir Giles at some point must have become suspicious of your mistress’s activities, Marie, and had her watched. But what I do not understand is why Justine remained in England when she might have given Sir Giles the information he required in return for her safe passage back to France.’
Marie betrayed surprise. ‘Why, because of her sister, of course! She had had no contact with Louise in over two years. She was not even permitted to write to her, but she managed after several months to discover where her sister was being held, and wrote to my brother. He was permitted to see Louise on one occasion. He wrote and told us the poor child was treated badly, worked from dawn till dusk, and never allowed out of the house. My mistress was determined to get her little sister away from that dreadful residence, which was no better than a prison, and place her with people whom she trusted to love and care for her.’
‘And Sir Giles was willing to offer his aid, providing she told him everything he wished to know,’ Katherine remarked, when her companion fell silent. ‘How, I wonder, did he manage to effect Louise’s escape?’
Marie’s harsh features were once again softened by a surprisingly tender smile. ‘He did it, mademoiselle, by enlisting the aid of a very brave Englishman. I accompanied this man, who was a soldier, I think, over to France. Once he had achieved his objective, I returned with him, eager to impart the good news to my mistress, only to discover …’
‘I know, Marie,’ Katherine said gently. ‘I’m truly sorry that the traitor managed to locate Justine’s whereabouts.’
Marie must have believed the sympathy genuine, for she smiled wanly across the table. ‘I know my mistress would have kept to her part of the bargain. She would have told him all he needed to know, and that is why, before I returned to France, I promised Sir Giles that if in the future he should ever need my help to catch the devil who murdered my poor mistress, he need only contact me.’ She sighed as she gazed down at her work-roughened hands resting in her lap. ‘I am a good Frenchwoman, mademoiselle. I love my country. But I would do anything to avenge my poor mistress’s death. I had great hopes too, for although I never knew the real name of that brave man who rescued little Louise, when I heard the name you were to use, I thought perhaps—’
Marie checked at the knock on the door and rose instantly from the chair to answer it. Supposing it to be the inn servant bringing their food, Katherine did not pay much attention, until she clearly heard Marie exclaim, ‘Ah, monsieur! So it is you! Now we shall do very well!’ Then she raised her head and for a moment was unable to believe the evidence of her own eyes as they focused on the tall figure, swathed in a voluminous grey cloak, peering over Marie’s head from the open doorway.
Quite forgetting her role, she was on her feet in an instant. ‘What in the name of heaven are you doing here?’
Chapter Five
Marie, looking from one to the other, would have been hard put to it to say which of them appeared more stunned by the other’s unexpected presence. Or more angry too, come to that! Blue-green eyes, brightened by a dagger-look, were openly hostile, and there was a definite hint of menace in dark brown orbs too, before the gentleman whom she had been so pleased to see took a step into the room and quietly closed the door.
‘It is good to see you again, Marie, after all these years,’ he remarked in French, and Katherine, even in her intensely perturbed state, was forced grudgingly to own that anyone might have been forgiven for taking him for a native of France. ‘I can only apologise for my late arrival, and trust that you have not found these past days being forced to endure my—er—oh, so charming wife’s company, too much of a trial.’
Marie clearly detected the half-smothered squeal as the young woman whose companionship she had found increasingly agreeable swung away to turn her back on the new arrival. ‘On the contrary, monsieur,’ she didn’t hesitate to assure him, before she recalled the young lady’s one grave failing. ‘But I think I ought to warn you she does have a tendency to forget that she is supposed to be a Frenchwoman.’
‘That,’ he responded, removing his hat and gloves and placing them on top of a convenient piece of furniture nearby, ‘isn’t all she has a tendency to forget. She is wont to forget her manners too on occasions.’
Out of the corner of her eye Marie noticed two slender white hands curl themselves into tight, angry little fists. She had found her young friend courteous and charming. None the less, she didn’t suppose for a moment that she had been blessed with that colouring for no reason, and decided it might be wise to intervene before ‘Madame Durand’ was tempted to deal her ‘husband’ a sound box round the ears, something which, Marie did not doubt, her young companion was more than capable of administering if sufficiently roused to anger.
‘Have you eaten, monsieur? I have ordered dinner, but it would be no trouble to delay it a little to enable you to join us.’
‘I have already dined,’ he answered, his expression softening noticeably as he removed his gaze from the silent, slender figure whose taut features were clearly mirrored in the window and looked down at the older woman. ‘There is no necessity to delay your meal on my account. I shall perhaps sample a glass or two of mine host’s fine wine before I retire. But first I think it might be beneficial to have a little private conversation with my wife.’
Marie was inclined to agree. That the two had met before and were not upon the best of terms was abundantly clear. Therefore, it could certainly do no harm for them to attempt to settle their differences before they embarked on their homeward journey, she decided. ‘In that case, sir, I shall return downstairs and attempt to hurry along our dinner.’
The instant Marie had departed, very tactfully closing the door behind her to enable them to clear the air without being overheard by any inn servants about their work, Daniel addressed himself to the woman who for the next few days would play the part of his wife, loving or otherwise. ‘Well, this is a surprising turn up, is it not, Miss O’Malley?’
He