“Please.” Deboque added cream to his tea. “I prefer to keep this at home, so to speak. The delivery should be set up with Lady Hannah on . . . Thursday, I’d say. It’s no use passing the merchandise along to her too soon.”

“She risks much, smuggling such a—volatile package into the palace.”

“I have implicit trust in our British friend, Ricardo.” He remembered the way she’d sat across from him that morning. Trim, tidy and cultured. It gave his plans such a pleasant touch when they were carried out by delicate hands. “She has a certain style, wouldn’t you say?”

“Class, even when so quietly cloaked, is still class, monsieur.”

“Precisely.” Deboque smiled and sipped at his tea. “I have no doubt she will carry out her objective with class.” He sipped his tea again and sighed. “I do admire the British, Ricardo. So traditional, so resilient. Not as passionate as the French, but so wonderfully pragmatic. In any case, see that the merchandise is shipped from the address on that list. I don’t wish it to come through my hands.”

“Of course.”

“I’m preparing an itinerary, Ricardo. We’ll be sailing the end of next week. I’ll see Lady Hannah once more. You’ll see to the details?”

“As you wish.”

“Thank you, Ricardo. Oh, by the way, did you see that a wreath was sent to Bouffe’s funeral?”

“Roses as you requested, monsieur.”

“Excellent.” Deboque chose one of the little sugared biscuits from the Wedgwood plate. “You’re very dependable.”

“I try, monsieur.”

“Have a pleasant evening then, Ricardo. Do let me know if we get any further word on the accident at the theater. I’m very uncomfortable with the current report.”

“I will. Good evening, monsieur.”

Deboque sat back, nibbling on the cookie. Ricardo continued to please him a great deal. An intelligent man with sociopathic tendencies was an excellent addition to his staff. Deboque was certain Ricardo would be very grateful to have the assignment of dealing with Hannah when her job was completed. It was tempting, but Deboque discarded it.

He would deal with Hannah himself. After all, the least he could do after she’d given him his fondest wish was to see she died as painlessly as possible.

Chapter 11

Hannah appeared very calm as she sipped tea in the library. She listened to Reeve give an updated report to Malori, filling in occasionally when requested to, then lapsing back into silence.

Bennett had started to show her the library once. Then they’d detoured into the music room. And he’d kissed her. Was that when her life had really begun to change? she wondered. Had it been then, or the day on the beach when he’d given her a shell? Perhaps it had been that first night in the gardens.

“Do you agree, Hannah?”