Strike at Midnight(72)

Lord Camembert nodded along with his wife’s assessment of the situation, but I saw the sweat on his brow. It could have been from the wig he was wearing, but I doubted that the fretful look that had appeared in his eyes at the mention of the duke was from the white fluff piece on his head.

“Did you know the duke?” I asked, and Lady Camembert looked at me as if we hadn’t been introduced only moments before.

“Of course we did,” she snapped. “We operate in only the highest of circles. Is that not right, dear?”

Apparently, she was addressing her husband, even though she was still looking down her nose at me.

“Yes,” he said, nodding his head. Hopefully, the wig wouldn’t fall off because it was shifting around a bit from his movements. “Yes, of course, my love. We knew him well.”

Melody intervened after an awkward silence followed, and she made a point of shifting her position in such a way that her cleavage was at its highest exposure level. It was a nifty move, and even Lord Camembert couldn’t help but let his eyes wander in that direction.

The look on Lady Camembert’s face when she noticed exactly where he was looking was a picture. She closed her fan and tapped it quite hard on his arm.

“I would like some lemonade, my dear,” she said, and he quickly shifted his eyes back in her direction. “Quickly, please.”

“Oh, but of course. Of course.” He looked flushed as he bowed and made his way off to get the beverage, and I knew this would be my chance to get him alone. Lady Camembert had played right into our hands. Or I should say Melody’s bosom.

“Please excuse me,” I said, fanning my face with my hand. “I’ve gone a little woozy. It is such a hot evening. I will just pop out for some air.”

Melody caught my eye and I glanced at Lady Camembert as a sign for her to question the woman while I was gone. She gave a quick nod to show she understood.

“Please excuse me,” I said again, and I walked away hearing the fading tut of disapproval from Lady Camembert.

Lord Camembert was at the table in the far corner dishing out lemonade from the serving bowl and into a small chalice. He jumped slightly when I approached, but then he couldn’t stop apologizing for the small amount of drink he had spilled on the light cloth.

“I think the table will survive, Lord Camembert,” I said with a big smile on my face. “I’m sorry to have startled you.”

“Not at all, my lady. Not at all.”

“May I have a quick word, Lord Camembert?” I asked before the jumpiness in him caused him to spring right on back to his wife. “Privately?”

“I should get back,” he said, turning to walk away. But my hand on his arm stopped him in his tracks.

“Please?” I asked. “It will just take a small moment of your time.”

He looked like he was having an internal battle with himself as he glanced back in the direction of where his wife was, but then he nodded and allowed me to urge him further into the corner.

“I’m afraid time is of the essence,” I said in lowered tones. I didn’t have the patience to play games with the guy. “I need you to understand that I am aware you are an imposter and that you paid for a potion to look like Lord Camembert.”

“What?” he asked, his face flickering between surprise and anger. “How dare—”

“How dare I say that I know you switched places with him when a guy called Iain Weatherby made it so he had a little accident? Or how dare I say that you paid a man for a potion to make you look like Lord Camembert?”

“I d-don’t know what you’re t-talking about,” he stammered.

“Do you see that woman over there?” I asked, turning him around to look at Mia, who I had noticed talking to a group of men in the distance. “She is a witch who the prince hired to remove the spell from the imposter of the duke. And if you don’t start talking now, I will bring her over to you to do the same.”

“You can’t do—”

“Who do you think told us about the man who approached them with the offer of the potion for gold?”

Lord Camembert looked like he wanted to argue further, but then his shoulders slumped and he looked down at the ground.

“I did it for her,” he said so quietly that I had to lean in closer to hear him. “She was miserable in that marriage, and he was a mean old bastard. That’s why she is the way she is, you know.” He looked at me with an appeal in his eyes. “She’s had to suffer his torment for years and she became the same way. But I love her. I have done since we were children, and I had to watch her go through a marriage to him because she thought he was a better prospect.”

“Who are you really?” I asked, and he rubbed at his face as if tired.

“Lord Havenly. I have been friends with Marianne—Lady Camembert—for years, but only on the sidelines. That bastard wouldn’t let me visit her at home. I had the opportunity to be with her truly, and they promised me that he wouldn’t be hurt. And she’s happy now, believe it or not,” he rambled. “Behind closed doors, she is the vulnerable and sweet girl I fell in love with, and if it means being him so she will finally look at me that way…”

“You’re living with a woman who thinks you’re someone else,” I said, lowering my voice as I realized I had gotten louder. “You don’t think that’s twisted?”