A Masquerade in the Moonlight(139)
She watched as Thomas ran a hand through his already rumpled hair. “No, Marguerite, I have to. And I will. I promise. But that was a wonderful speech, truly it was, if a bit long-winded. First rate. However, for all your fine deductions and elevating sentiments, hasn’t it occurred to you that you might be in danger right now?”
“Me?” She gave a toss of her head, nearly dislodging her hat. “Don’t be ridiculous, Donovan. I’m nothing to William except a green girl only recently out of the schoolroom. Only a friend, if anything. He can’t know I’m the one who—”
“He knows, Marguerite,” Thomas said, cutting her off just as she remembered William’s strange half proposal of marriage. William did see her as more than a “friend.” First the mother, and then the daughter? Was that possible? But Donovan didn’t know about that, and she wasn’t likely to present him with any more ammunition to use against her in trying to keep her locked up at Chertsey. Besides, what could William’s seeming penchant for Balfour women have to do with her father’s murder, with Ralph’s murder?
“Just what does he know, Donovan?” she asked, still careful to keep the desk between them. She would have brandished one of the pistols and ordered him to stand back while she left the study—only he’d just laugh at her, and then she’d really want to shoot him.
“He knows about us, Marguerite,” Donovan told her as he perched himself on the edge of the desk. “Ralph told him.”
“He did? How? When?” Marguerite rubbed at her forehead, trying to understand, then shrugged, determined not to let Thomas know his news had upset her. “Oh, never mind. I don’t care. What does it matter if Ralph knew about us, if he really did see us together that night behind the mansion? What does it matter if William knows about us? I doubt his heart will be broken.”
“Not his heart, Marguerite,” Thomas said, looking at her intently. “However, I believe his pride might have taken a direct hit. I told you I’ve spoken with Maisie. She told me all about your mother’s death. I think it was Laleham who accosted her in the maze. And remembering some things Mappleton and Perry let slip, I think he’s now transferred his affections, such as they are, to you. I think that’s why the other members of the club stayed so near to you in London—on orders from Laleham, just to make sure you weren’t courted too earnestly by any other men.”
“How above everything insulting you are! You’re implying they weren’t really smitten with me?” Marguerite immediately knew her attempt at sarcasm had failed and quickly avoided Thomas’s eyes. All right, so she wasn’t the only one in this room who was capable of reasoning things out. “If you insist, Donovan. I—I suppose that’s possible. But that wouldn’t mean William would ever believe I had anything to do with what happened to Stinky, or Perry, or—”
“Look, Marguerite, it’s late, and I’m damned tired. I don’t want to go into all of this now, but I think—I have reason to believe—Laleham might have connected us, then assumed you’ve helped me bring all of them down, to put his lordship into a position where he would have to go along with anything I demanded or else I’d turn Harewood’s confession over to his government. In other words, I think the earl is, at the moment, one very angry, frightened man—and a man who would like nothing better than to see the two of us dead.”
“Excuse me for arriving late, Mr. Donovan, so that I seem to have come in on the very end of your conversation, but what little I did hear was almost correct. I am rather angry, and the two of you will very soon be very dead. However, I’m not in the least frightened. Such an emotion is unproductive, as that fool Ralph so recently proved.”
“William.” Marguerite felt her stomach turn over as she and Thomas looked to the doorway leading to the hall, to see the Earl of Laleham standing there, a cocked pistol in each hand. He was dressed in midnight blue evening clothes and looked calm, secure in his superiority.
“None other, you ungrateful little whore,” he said, nodding his head slightly in her direction. “I did my best not to believe Ralph—until I espied Donovan here climbing down your drainpipe. I was shocked, quite shocked I tell you.”
“Damn,” Thomas bit out, clearly angry with himself. “Missed seeing the crest on your coach, did I?”
“You will oblige me by shutting your flapping American mouth, thank you. Now, what was I saying? Oh, yes. Such a shock, although I have moved beyond it. But such a pity. I was going to give you everything, Marguerite, share everything I had. But you’re stupid, like your mother before you. You Balfour women only seem to enjoy crawling between the covers with inferiors. And Victoria was weak into the bargain. Geoffrey had made her weak. I’d hoped, with the passage of time, she could still be made to see reason. Alas, that wasn’t to be. She had been totally ruined. A word of truth in her ear and she swooned dead away. When I come to power all the weak, the inferior, will be dispatched, and I’ll have no need to worry about them again. Tonight, children, with the two of you, I will make a start of it.”