Chapters (39)
- Cover
- About the Book
- Title Page
- Dedication
- Foreword and Dedication
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Afterword: An Incident in 1823
- Author’s Note
- Acknowledgements
- About the Author
- Also by Hallie Rubenhold
I was content to hear that no harm had come to those beneath my roof and to discover that my effects remained undisturbed, for pilfering was not uncommon in the course of such visits. I surveyed my rooms and ordered Lucy to gather a few pieces of attire and effects which I wished to have sent to the Palais-Royal. It was while I was engaged in this business that Jean Vernet approached me on tentative feet. He was a quiet, heedful young man and I was certain would one day prove to be a loyal valet to some gentleman. He held a letter in his hands as he stood before me, his eyes slightly averted.
‘Please, mademoiselle,’ he began uneasily, ‘this arrived for you in your absence, but as I was uncertain if it was correctly addressed, I did not hand it to Thérèse to be forwarded.’
Though puzzled by his words, I took it from him.
‘Monsieur Langlois, Madame Elliot’s porter, said he received it directly from a messenger at the Hôtel l’Impératrice, where you were once resident.’ He hesitated for an instant. ‘He assured me the name was correct . . .’
I looked down at the packet, which was a filthy, battered thing, and read ‘Lady Allenham’ upon it. My heart fairly stopped. The seal, which bore the profile of a Roman philosopher or poet, offered no clue as to the letter’s sender. Eagerly I broke it open, anxious to learn who would address me by that name. What I discovered within both astonished and intrigued me.
The letter was lengthy and came from the pen of one whom I had all but forgotten: Jean-Baptiste Mariot, Allenham’s former tutor. A good deal of the page was taken up in an effusive apology for the belatedness of his reply. He cited this distemper and that illness before asserting he had made a full return to health. His words then rambled into fond remembrances of ‘a most cherished pupil’, before finally expressing his regret that he had heard nothing of Allenham in several years beyond his last letter ‘which conveyed the news of his impending nuptials with the daughter of an English earl, which I conclude to be you, Lady Allenham’. He then continued: