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as possible.
Even from that, the woman looked eased a little, and dabbed at her tears. A child or husband in prison, perhaps? Now the woman had faith that the great marquess would help her, but he had another burden on his shoulders, another demand on his exhausted time.
She received petitions herself, but rarely in person, and never like this. And this, she suspected, happened every time he left his house for a formal occasion.
She suddenly wanted to shoo them all away, to protect him, but knew he'd be offended at the thought. This was part of the duties of his rank, and duty came before all.
As with his duty to keep his line free of taint.
She counted twelve petitions taken before they were clear to walk toward the coach. Twelve souls depending upon him for something dear to them.
This, surely, hadn't been planned as part of their war, but it reminded her of who he was. Merely by rank he was one of the great, a source of hope for the desperate. As Veminence noire he was known to have the ear of the king.
Most of England stood in awe of him.
Could she really break this man's will?
She glanced at him again, and again their eyes spoke, and she knew, because of what he was, especially because of the chilly eminence upon which he lived, that she had to try.
More than that. She had to win.
Then they both looked forward and walked toward the coach, the Countess of Arradale and the Marquess of Rothgar, on stage.
Chapter 19
As they approached St. James's Palace, the press of vehicles and avidity of the watching crowds broke Diana out in a sweat. These fashionable parades and the unfashionable pointing mob weren't her challenge. The king was. All the same, she had to work hard not to flinch from a thousand eyes.
And she'd thought her life confined and under scrutiny in Yorkshire!
"Drawing Rooms are popular with the people," he remarked in a bored tone she knew was designed to steady her.
"So I see. Do they gather for the levees as well?"
"Not to so great an extent. Ladies are generally more decoratively entertaining than gentlemen."
She glanced at his finery. "It is not apparent. And anyway, in the animal world the male has the gorgeous plumage."
"And if we follow Monsieur Rousseau, we must, above all, be natural." As the coach drew to a halt, he said, "I will suggest that the king command all ladies to attend in sackcloth and drab."
A footman swung open the door, and Bey climbed down, turning to offer her a beautiful, jeweled hand in plumage of lace and brocade.
"You do like to stir enemies," she commented as she descended and smoothed her glorious skirts.
"Alas, without enemies life might become dull. Speaking of which, let me present you to the Chevalier D'Eon."
Snapping to the alert, Diana went with him toward a slight man in rich brown with the striking red ribbon of an order across his chest, the medallion glittering. Bey himself wore the Order of the Bath on a red sash, and an imaginative mind might see the two red slashes as a bloody challenge.
The Frenchman saw them and stepped forward with the quick elegance of a good fencer despite his high heels. "Monsieur le marquis," he said in rapid French. "I am distressed, outraged - " Then he seemed to catch himself, and bowed, addressing Diana in English. "My lady, I beg your pardon for speaking in French. And here I am again," he added, with a rather arch flutter of embarrassment, "speaking to you without introduction - "
"Lady Arradale," said Bey, sounding amused, "may I present the Chevalier D'Eon, the most honorable Ministre Plenipotentiare de France?
Diana held out her hand and greeted the Frenchman in English. Bey's meaningful look had not been necessary. She could see that being thought unable to understand the language might be an advantage one day.
Of course, de Couriac knew differently...
Monsieur D'Eon bowed over her hand with exquisite grace, pursing his lips a delicate distance above her skin. "London is made glorious by your beauty, Lady Arradale," he said, but then his expression turned tragic. "And I am devastated that you have apparently been distressed upon your journey by some rascally compatriots of mine."
"It certainly was terrifying, monsieur. But," she added, sliding her hand free of his ardent grasp, "any country can produce rogues. We escaped with our property and lives intact." She turned adoringly to Bey. "All due to Lord Rothgar's formidable courage and