A Masquerade in the Moonlight - By Kasey Michaels Page 0,153

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.”

Marguerite ignored the threat, too angry to be really frightened. “You—you told her you murdered my father? She had a weak heart. You must have known such a statement could kill her. Why did you do it? For the love of God—why?”

“Why not, Marguerite? Once she rejected my proposal I had no further use for her. But enough chatter. I have to get back to Laleham Hall and dispose of the body I left lying in my garden. It’s such a bother, you know, sweeping up Gypsy trash. One of your inferior friends, I suppose, my dear. Now, if you would kindly remove those pistols from your person and lay them on the desk, knowing my pistol will be cocked and trained on your lover as you do? There, that’s a good girl. So willing to please me, now that we all at last understand each other.”

“Ah, your lordship, but are you sure of that?” Thomas asked, standing at his ease, just as if he weren’t staring down the barrel of one of William’s pistols. “My thanks to you for eliminating the Gypsy. He was useful to us in bringing down Harewood and the others, but I had done with the fellow. I sent him to Laleham Hall, secure in the knowledge you would dispatch him for me.”

“Donovan! What are you saying? You sent Marco to be killed?” Marguerite stared at him, wide-eyed and disbelieving. The man lied with such ease, it was nearly impossible to know when he was telling the truth. “How can you say that? How can you hint that you still want to deal with William? You love me—you swore you loved me!”

“You see, my lord?” Thomas asked, spreading his hands, palms up, as if to ask his consideration for all he had suffered in having to deal with her. “Do you really think the willing baggage knows I’ve been tumbling her just to get her to help me gain the upper hand over you and your little group of incompetents? And they were incompetent, my lord. But you and I—well, I believe we two at least understand each other now. I have the letter from my president ready to hand over to you, and you have the power to begin again, building on a more solid foundation based on our mutual mistrust of each other as we move forward with our plans. You get the letter, and I keep Ralph’s confession. We’re both protected. Isn’t that right—partner?”

Partner? Marguerite’s head was beginning to whirl. She looked to the earl, to see how he’d react to this last bit of blarney. Oh, Lord, please let it be blarney!

Laleham was quiet for some moments, obviously considering all Thomas had said, and Marguerite looked down at the desk, measuring the distance between herself and the closest pistol. “How droll. Ralph and Perry said you were ambitious, Mr. Donovan, didn’t they? You still expect the arrangement to go forward?” he asked at last, eyeing the American intently, assessingly. Clearly the earl wasn’t above a slight alteration in his plans—which certainly had to appeal more than abandoning his scheme completely. “But what about her?” he asked, using one of the pistols to indicate Marguerite.

Thomas shrugged. “What about her? She wasn’t worth a damn in bed, if that’s what you mean. Your English women are cold, my lord. Damn near froze off my lips to kiss her, let alone face the chill of crawling on top of her. I say we get rid of the bloodless chit.”

Laleham looked to Marguerite and smiled. A rather nasty smile.