Pearls Read online

  “I got no family, no friends, no prospects of any kind.” Her mouth firmed in to a hard, thin line. “I ain’t got no reason to ever step foot back across Canal.”

  “Very well, then.” Striding across the room, I opened the door, not surprised to find Adelaide and Victoria hovering in the hall. “Adelaide, see to Sophie and then seek your bed. Victoria, please assign Harriet a room and then see she’s bathed and fed.”

  “Mama! Papa!”

  The Duke shook his head and laughed. “Darling, I do believe the world is conspiring to prevent us from attending the performance tonight.”

  “Not the world—simply the members of this household.” I stared up at Sophie, her head sticking out between the railings of the second floor bannister. “You realize if you get stuck like that we will be forced to cut you out and both your father and I will be very annoyed with you.”

  “I’m too small to get stuck!” As if to prove her point, she wiggled backward, her dark gold curls disappearing from view for a moment before reappearing. She beamed down at me and giggled. “See?”

  “If you are so very small, then I suppose you are too small to go to the zoo tomorrow.” The Duke crossed his arms and rocked on his heels, waiting a beat before speaking again. “What say you now, daughter?”

  “I want to go to the zoo.” She pouted and sniffled, rubbing her eyes with one tiny hand. “I like the stripy cats.”

  “And we shall see them but only if I hear from your nursemaid how good you were. Now, blow your mama and your papa a kiss and seek your bed.” When Sophie continued to sniffle, Grégoire clucked his tongue. “A kiss, little one, so we may be on our way and you on yours.”

  I bit back a laugh as she did as instructed, ruining the precious moment when she rubbed her nose on the sleeve of her nightgown. “Sleep well, daughter mine. I shall see you on the morrow.”

  “And now we will depart, before anything else should happen to garner our attention.” Tucking my hand in the crook of his elbow, he steered me toward the door. Nodding at the doorman, he ushered me down the stairs to the street and handed me up in to the coach. He climbed in behind me and settled back in the seat as the vehicle moved forward. “A new student.”

  “Yes. She’ll do nicely for the Prince of the Southern Territories.” I started to reach for my reticule and the small mirror contained within it only to curse under my breath. “Damn it to hell.”

  “Looking for one of these, dearest?” The Duke dangled not only my reticule but my fan and opera glasses from one hand. “I took the liberty of secreting them away in a pocket while you attended to your guest.”

  “For which I thank you greatly.” Retrieving them from him, I checked my appearance one final time. “Gaston will be at the opera tonight, yes?”

  “I believe so.” We rode in silence for a few minutes before he spoke again. “How many royal matches will this make for you?”

  “Including the King’s latest friend? A dozen, I believe.” Returning the mirror to the purse, I turned my attention to Grégoire. “Why do you ask?”

  “Simply curious.” He smiled at me, his eyes shining with amusement and pride. “You’ve come a long way from the scared young girl I first met.”

  “Thanks in large part to you.” Leaning over, I pressed a kiss to his cheek, making sure not to transfer any of my lip color to his skin. “I could not have asked for a better teacher or friend.”

  “You give me too much credit, darling.” He sighed, resting his chin on the top of my head. “Still, I would not be amiss to a tutoring session when we return from our engagement this evening.”

  “Neither would I, my dear Duke.” I closed my eyes and smiled. “Neither would I.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Thirty minutes later, I groaned and leaned back in the seat, closing my eyes. “We’ve been at a standstill for the last ten minutes.”

  “Closer to fifteen, actually.” The Duke patted my hand. “You did have to wish for clear roads.”

  “It’s nearly curfew time. There’s no reason for all this traffic.” I pulled the cape tighter around me, huddling inside the fur. As mild as the winter had been, it was still far too cold for my liking. “At the rate this issue, whatever it might be, is being resolved, we’re likely to not arrive until intermission.”

  “Fifteen years we’ve been together and I do believe this is the first time I’ve seen you express even the slightest interest in the opera.”

  I chuckled, unable to help myself. Opening my eyes, I turned to face him, my amusement fading to worry. With his eyes closed, the strain and stress were all the more evident. Lifting a hand, I trailed my fingertips down his jaw. “You lied to me.”

  “Never.” Grasping my fingers, he kissed them gently before tucking them in the crook of his elbow. “You are far too terrifying when you believe someone has told you an untruth.”

  “Do not believe you can derail me with flattery.”

  He laughed, as I’d intended, and opened his eyes. Leaning over, he pressed a soft kiss to my cheek. “Truly, my little daisy, I look far worse than I feel. An evening in your company and a day with our daughter will set me to rights far more than a visit to the physician, which I know you are planning to nag me about.”

  “When, in the long course of our friendship, have I ever nagged you about anything?” Lifting my brows, I pinned him under an arch look. “Please, inform me. If you need some time to sift through your memories, I’ll wait.”

  “Such a sharp tongue you have this evening, darling.” Pinching my chin between his thumb and forefinger, he scowled at me with mock severity. “Mayhap we should skip the opera and return home for some apparently much needed discipline.”

  “If flattery would not work, do you truly believe the promise of debauchery would?” Matching his scowl, I leaned in until our noses touched. “Do not act as if I have no right to be concerned. You know I could not bear it if anything were to happen to you.”

  “Nothing is going to happen to me.” His grip eased, flowing in to a caress with a fluidity which was still shocking after so long. His scowl softened to a smile as his fingers continued to play over my jaw. “So fierce for such a delicate flower.”

  “Even the most delicate of flowers has been known to kill people.” I regretted my choice of words before I even finished speaking them. Wincing, I said, “That did not come out in quite the manner I intended.”

  “Luckily for you, I possess the sort of good humor which would allow me to overlook such harsh words.” Flicking the tip of my nose, he laughed and settled back against the cushions. Drawing me next to him, he said, “I almost hesitate to say anything for fear of ruining the moment but I do believe we are moving.”

  “Finally.” Leaning my head on his shoulder, I closed my eyes again, savoring the blissful quiet I was always guaranteed in his presence. A moment later, I opened them, tilting my head to see his face. “Do you know if the Baroness Lefebvre is attending tonight?”

  “I do believe Bienvenu has made this particular social event mandatory for all members of His Court, emergencies notwithstanding.” The Duke arched a brow, a faint smile playing around the corners of his mouth. “I believe I’ve discovered where our daughter learned her charming pout.”

  “She’s been trying to make an appointment for the better part of a fortnight. So far, I’ve been able to avoid her by pleading business matters.” Sighing, I made an effort to pull my lower lip in. The Duke might find my petulant expression charming but the King would not share his opinion. “I have a sneaking suspicion she wants to enroll another young man in the school.”

  “Another? In addition to the two companions she’s already housing?” He widened his eyes and shook his head. “Angela always did possess an enormous appetite for hedonistic activity.”

  “Yes, well, she apparently dismissed one companion—an individual who was not educated under my roof—and he’s been filling the ears of anyone who will listen about the hardships and indignities he was forced to endure while in
her employ.” I rubbed my temple before pinching the bridge of my nose. A handful of minutes discussing one of the most odious individuals was more draining than spending an entire evening listening to sopranic arias. “And before you ask, yes, I was one of the people he spoke with.” I clenched my hands together in my lap. “He has scars, Grégoire. The kind which ensure no one will seek his company again.”

  “And if I know Angela as well as I believe I do, it is almost a certainty she did not provide him with even the smallest crumb of monetary support.” The Duke cursed under his breath, a string of French I would need to remind him to not repeat around Sophie. Squeezing my knee, he said, “You know you do not have to do business with her.”

  “Of course not.” I tilted my chin up and sniffed derisively. “I do not have to do business with anyone. I have special dispensation from His Royal Highness--.”

  “I was not referring to your license.” His sigh was so full of long suffering I almost laughed before catching sight of the serious set of his features. “I am referring to your rank. Angela is a simple baroness. You are a marchioness.”

  “I’m quite aware of my rank.”

  “And I am a Duke.”

  “I am also quite aware of your rank, Your Grace.”

  “It is a singularly unique talent to be able to inflect oceans of annoyance in to a simple duo of syllables.” Resting one hand on my still clenched fists, he squeezed gently. “I know you do not care to trade on titles, especially when a situation involves your school, but sometimes discretion is the better part of valor.”

  “Do you truly believe someone of the Baroness’s temperament will be content to allow me to simply say you would not approve of my doing business with her any longer?”

  “My dear, dear Marguerite.” He laughed and chucked me under the chin. “As far as we are concerned, the Baroness Lefebvre no longer exists.”

  “Ah, the lovebirds have arrived at last!”

  I gritted my teeth while the Duke helped divest me of my cloak. “Good evening, Lord DuPont.”

  “Lady Saint-Laurent.” The earl’s bow was a half inch shy of propriety, something all three of us chose to ignore. If the Duke were to avenge every slight to my name, he would have no time to attend to the king’s business. Straightening, DuPont turned to the Duke, hesitating for a moment before bowing deeply. “Your Grace.”

  “Arnaud.” The Duke looked the other vampyre over before frowning. “You’re starting to look quite portly.” Placing my hand in the crook of his elbow, he turned his back on the marquis, the dismissal more than clear.

  I waited until we were across the lobby before letting out a single giggle. “So harsh, Your Grace.”

  “He’s an abysmal little beast who enjoys nothing so much as sowing seeds of discord.” The Duke paused, glancing down at me and smiling. “And he has put on a great deal of weight. His Royal Highness is bound to say something, if He hasn’t already.”

  I flicked my fan open and rolled my eyes. “You know as well as I do King Bienvenu will say nothing as long as Lord DuPont makes sure his clothing is tailored to his expanding bulk.”

  “You realize as long as you insist on addressing Arnaud by his title, he will continue to disrespect you.” When I only continued to wave my fan idly, scanning the crowded lobby for a somewhat friendly face, the Duke sighed. “You and your damned sense of propriety.”

  “Such language, Your Grace.” The mocking tones of the Vicomte Balogh did nothing to diminish the headache I felt forming in my right temple. The Vicomte sketched a bow which bordered on insulting before shifting his attentions to the Duke. Like Lord DuPont, he hesitated a moment before offering a second, begrudging bow. Straightening, he clasped his hands behind his back. “The lateness of your arrival concerned a great number of people.”

  “Did it?” The Duke’s smile was as false as the Vicomte’s concern. “I shall be sure to apologize to His Royal Highness.”

  The words left unspoken—that the Vicomte was not entitled to an apology—did not go unnoticed by the other vampyre. The faintest of flushes crept up his neck before he smiled, showing a glimmer of fang. “And your child? How fares your bastard abomination?”

  The thunderous voice of the King sounded behind us, forestalling any reaction the Duke or I might have had. “Constantin.”

  In a swift, fluid motion, the Duke spun us toward the King. Averting my gaze, I lowered myself in to a deep curtsy while the Duke bowed. Barely a second passed before the King said, “Oh, stop this foolishness, you two, and rise.”

  Straightening, the Duke and I shifted to the side when the King waved his hand, leaving the Vicomte Balogh in the center of a quickly widening circle. There were only two reasons the King chose to address any of His courtiers by their given names. The first was because He saw you as a friend.

  The second, and more common, was because you had done something to offend Him.

  Offending the King was akin to offending God—you only did so once.

  King Bienvenu patted His golden mane of hair before clasping His white gloved hands at His waist. “Constantin.”

  To his credit, the Vicomte did not pale nor did he tremble when he spoke. “Your Majesty.”

  “We find it difficult to believe you would think to describe Our most beloved godchild in such a… disrespectful manner.” The King paused, tilting His head a minute degree. “Surely you have not forgotten how dearly We love little Sophie.”

  Balogh swallowed but remained silent.

  The King nodded. “We believe some time monitoring the human district for any rebel activity will help refresh your memory.” He paused and glanced over His shoulder at His advisor. “Two weeks, Henri?”

  The smaller vampyre stroked his Van Dyke beard, appearing to mull the question over before answering. “If I may be permitted to make a suggestion?” When the King nodded, Henri continued. “A month would be more suitable—and perhaps a donation to a charity Lady Saint-Laurent deems appropriate?”

  “A donation to charity.” King Bienvenu tapped a finger on His chin before smiling. “Yes, We believe a donation and time in the human district will do as recompense for offending Us.” The King shifted His gaze to me, His smile widening. “Do you happen to know of an organization in dire need of funds, Marguerite?”

  “An individual, Your Majesty.” Dipping another curtsey, I waited for the King’s nod before continuing. “A young man recently cast from his home, with no funds and no prospects for the foreseeable future.”

  “No funds and no prospects?” The King’s eyes filled with understanding and He nodded again. “Ah, yes, We believe We know the young man you speak of.” He frowned at me, the expression more thoughtful than fierce. “How large of a donation would benefit this young man and ease the affront dealt to you by the Vicomte?”

  “Twenty-five thousand francs, Your Majesty.” I offered the sum without blinking, ignoring the gasps of outrage from the assembled crowd. The Duke squeezed my hand, either in warning or in support. When the King appeared to waver, I snapped my fan shut and dabbed at an invisible tear. “Bastard abomination, Your Majesty. Such harsh words for an innocent child.”

  Whether it was my imaginary tears or the reminder of how the Vicomte referred to his goddaughter, King Bienvenu’s hesitancy vanished. Firming His mouth and lifting His chin, He glanced at Balogh. “Deliver your donation to Henri tomorrow morning. He will have the information for your posting available at that time.” Clapping His hands, He turned toward me and the Duke. “Come, come, intermission is nearly over. You will tell Us how Our beloved godchild fares as we adjourn to our box.”

  “Of course, Your Majesty.” The Duke waited until the King passed, leaving us to trail in His wake before leaning toward me. “I thought the saying involved killing two birds with one stone, darling.”

  Opening my fan again, I smiled. “Why settle for two when you can have three?”

  CHAPTER THREE

  “This wasn’t necessary, Your Majesty.” I scanned the buffet table
, groaning under the weight of meats, cheese, fruits, and desserts. “There was no need to go to such great lengths when I am the only one partaking.”

  “Be that as it may, We never quite know what you’ll be in the mood for.” The King patted my hand where it rested in the crook of His elbow and chuckled. “It has been so long since We have had a human companion—nearly as long as it has been since We were human—that We confess to being somewhat confused about your preferences.”

  “You and I both know you are never confused, Your Majesty.” I let Him steer me toward the head of the table where a rail thin man stood waiting to fill a plate for me. A quick glance at his eyes told me he was human, like me, more than likely hired from a service for the night. King Bienvenu had no permanent human staff; the Duke said He found the majority of them annoying. Smiling at the young man, I said, “Just a sliver of the ham, please.”

  “And the turkey.” The King patted my hand again, beaming at me. “There’s a wonderful little farm operating in the area between the districts which raises the most delectable creatures for slaughter.” Nodding at the ornately dressed bird, He said, “A sliver of that, as well.”

  We made our way down the buffet, the King supplementing my choices with His own recommendations. By the time we reached the end, the plate was full nearly to the point of overflowing. There was no way I would be able to finish even half of the contents. Still, I smiled and thanked the server, reaching to take the plate from him.

  “Oh, no, no, allow me, child.” Bienvenu took the ornately gilded paper thin china from the man, shushing my protests. Turning us toward the room at large, He scanned the assemblage before clicking His tongue. “I do believe We have managed to lose your friend.”

  “The Duke mentioned something about needing to speak with Lord Alan regarding the preparations for the Prince of the Northern Territories’ visit.” The crowd shifted and I caught a glimpse of an individual. Glancing up at the King, I said, “Your Majesty, would it be possible to make our way over to the Prince of the Southern Territories?”