To Dance until Dawn - Emma V. Leech Page 0,60

he—and those he sells to—ask no awkward questions about how one acquired such valuables, I take it, hmmm?”

“Quite,” the baron replied, testy now. “Well, anyway. I have an appointment to meet with the fellow, so we’d best be on our way. I’ve booked us into Hôtel Saint Vincent. It’s not what I am used to, but it’s discreet and clean, according to my friend. I wrote in advance and booked us a room in the name of Mr and Mrs Babbage.”

There was a heavy sigh. “Babbage? Mrs Babbage, what a come down! And I was so enjoying being a viscountess.”

“What?”

“Never mind, Richard. Very well, we had best be on our way, then. The sooner this debacle is over, the better.”

Phoebe gasped as she realised they were leaving already. She looked around for somewhere to hide, or another door, but they were all on the far side of the one she stood by. There was no time. Deciding she must brazen it out, she turned away as the door opened and hurried back down the corridor, hoping Alvanly would just take her for an actress or someone involved in the theatre.

“Miss Barrington?”

Drat.

Phoebe did not turn, just spoke in rapid French. “J'ai peur que vous ayez fait une erreur. Je suis Mademoiselle Dubarry.”

“Oh, ho, no you’re not, you little cat. I’d know you anywhere.”

Phoebe shrieked and picked up her skirts, running for the door she’d come through, but it was heavy and hard to pull open, and Alvanly was already upon her. He put one hand over her mouth to stop the scream she was about to make, the other fastening tight around her, imprisoning her arms. Determined he should not get the better of her this time, Phoebe bit down hard on the fleshy part of his hand and stamped on his foot.

Alvanly bellowed with fury and snatched his hand away, but did not let her go.

“Richard!” Nina shouted. “Leave that poor child alone. What the devil do you think you’re doing?”

“This poor child is nothing of the sort,” Alvanly returned with a scalding look at Nina. “Don’t you see the wretch has followed me here from London?”

“Why? What did you do to her?” Nina’s voice was cold and furious, and Phoebe looked at her with interest.

“Nothing!” Alvanly retorted, his tone indignant, almost hurt.

Phoebe gave a snort of disgust.

“Oh, you call tricking me into helping you steal a painting and then leaving me tied up nothing, do you?” she demanded, struggling against his hold. “You’re a vile thief and blaggard. You ruined me, you devil!”

“Oh, don’t tell me Ellisborough didn’t leap at the chance to play knight in shining armour,” Alvanly said, unimpressed by her words.

“Of course he did,” she retorted, her voice growing thick as she remembered Max, and considered how worried he must be by now. She had caused him nothing but trouble. “Max is a good man and he’d never stand by and let someone suffer if he could do something about it, but I shan’t marry him. We… We do not suit,” she said, trying to steady the quaver in her voice. “And so I am ruined, and it’s all your fault.”

“Let her go!”

Phoebe looked around at Nina, her attention taken by the anger in her voice.

“But, Nina….” Alvanly protested.

“Let her go, Richard, or so help me—”

“Fine!” Alvanly said in disgust, giving Phoebe a little push towards Nina. “You deal with her, but she knows what I did, and if she’s here, Ellisborough is not far behind, not to mention her darling Papa. Would you like to be on the wrong side of Montagu, darling? For that’s who he is, but you can deal with them all, if you wish. I have a painting to sell. I’ll see you in Paris, if you figure out whose side it is you’re on, but if you want to see your money again, I’d have a care who you choose.”

Alvanly stalked off, leaving Phoebe and Nina alone together.

Phoebe stared at the woman before her, wondering what she would do next, and not entirely surprised when she held out her hand out to shake like men did.

“I’m Mrs Abercrombie,” she said with a smile. “Though such formality seems ridiculous in the circumstances, so you may call me Nina.”

“Not Viscountess Kline?” Phoebe said with the lift of one eyebrow as she took the woman’s hand.

Nina clasped her fingers tightly for a moment and then laughed. It was a good sound, that laugh, the confident sound of a woman who knew her own