Lord Vincent frowned as he felt in his coat pocket and handed her a card. "This has my address in Switzerland on it, as well as my London bankers. I will be at The Pelican Inn on Birdcage Walk for another three days. Please contact me there if you have need of my support."

Elizabeth accepted the card and was surprised when he grasped her hands again.

"I must say this, Mrs. Waterstone. If Gervase hadn't met you first, I would definitely be pursuing my interest in you." She started to speak and he stopped her with a gentle kiss. "Not as a courtesan, ma cherie, but as a future wife. I would love to have the opportunity to get to know you better and insist that you consider me a friend, at the very least."

He released her and she headed up the stairs in a daze of conflicting emotions. The door was unlocked and the hall was empty just as it had been on the fateful night when the duke had first brought her there. She walked slowly up the staircase, knowing in her heart that she was more vulnerable now, having loved and lost the duke, than she could ever possibly have imagined on that long ago night.

She threw the horrible violet satin dress onto the carpet and stamped on it before pulling on one of her own voluminous nightgowns that fastened high at the neck. Despite her distress, she couldn't sleep, and pacing the carpet seemed the only thing that stopped the screams welling from her throat.

*** *** ***

Gervase closed the door to his suite with deliberate slowness and slumped against it. The strain of lying to Elizabeth had drained him to the point of exhaustion and he feared that there was worse to come on the morrow. He only just managed to wipe all trace of expression from his face when he remembered that Angelique was still there. He straightened as Angelique tore off her pink domino and mask and threw them at his feet.

"Are you happy now, Gervase?" Her voice shook but she continued to advance on him. "Are you happy now that you have destroyed Elizabeth?"

Gervase was still too shaken to speak. He poured himself a large brandy before he found the nerve to turn and face Angelique again.

"I hate myself for allowing you to involve me in this." Angelique twisted her hands together as she paced a restless circle.

Gervase shrugged. "It was necessary for you to come home with me in case Elizabeth decided to waylay me in my bedchamber." He grimaced. "If my suspicions are correct, Elizabeth will soon be under the protection of the French and we will never see her again. I suspect she is too valuable an asset to be ignored."

Angelique's expressive face paled beneath her rouge. "They might kill her, have you thought of that?"

Gervase fought hard to conceal the pain Angelique's words provoked in him. He couldn't afford to let anyone know the truth yet, even Angelique. He raised an indolent eyebrow as though she had suggested a ride in the park.

"Are you suggesting that I expose her to the British authorities? As a traitor to her own country I suspect the penalty inflicted on her would be equally severe."

He was rewarded for his calculated air of disinterest when Angelique knocked the brandy glass from his hand. He caught her wrist as the brandy dripped down his chest. "Go home, Angelique. I will come and see you tomorrow."

She shook off his hand and bent to pick up his brandy glass, her face bitter. "Don't bother, Your Grace. I don't intend to stay under your 'protection' for a moment longer. I will inform you when I vacate the house."

Gervase ran a hand through his hair. "You don't need to do this. Please wait until you have calmed down."

She shoved the glass into his outstretched hand and headed for the door. Just before she reached it, she swung around, her tears already beginning to fall. "I need to get away from you. You have become someone I no longer understand. You have become a man who would sacrifice his own lover without a second thought, without even allowing her the courtesy of a fair hearing."

Gervase flung out his hand but she continued anyway. "How long before you turn on me, Your Grace, or Nicholas or Eloise? Soon there will no longer be anyone who can truly love you because you will not allow them to. There will only be those who fear and loathe you. Does that make you happy?"

He took two strides toward her but she slammed the door in his face.

He laid his palm flat against the solid oak door. He couldn't tell Angelique the true extent of his suspicions. If he was correct, alienating Elizabeth at this stage would either save her life or ultimately convict her. He had to believe that. His feelings about her involvement with Jack Llewelyn had nothing to do with his actions, nothing. Gervase stared at the heavy paneling, drew back his fist and smashed it against the wood until his knuckles began to bleed.

Chapter 30

Elizabeth awoke into a gray dawn, listening to the sound of deliveries being made to the Delamere House kitchen door just below her window. It was six o'clock when she struggled out of bed, having barely slept. A hurried glance in the mirror did nothing to dispel her fears that she looked like a dowdy, wrinkled old maid. After the myriad humiliations of the night before, she found herself reluctant to leave the sanctuary of her room and face the other members of the household.

She forced herself to leave her bedchamber and looked down onto the black and white marbled hall. She would not stay in this house for one minute longer than she had to. Laying one hand lightly on the banisters, she descended. To her relief, the breakfast room was deserted. She dined alone on tea and toast as the skies darkened and rain lashed against the windowpanes.

She crossed the deserted hall as the clock boomed seven, hoping to reach her desk before Sir John appeared and the duke and Nicholas returned from their morning ride. To her dismay, she barely had time to place her reticule on her desk before the connecting door to the duke's study swung open and Nicholas appeared. Her welcoming smile died as she took in his unusually stern expression.

"Miss Waterstone? Would you mind coming through to the duke's study?"

Elizabeth swallowed her unease and followed him through the doorway. The heavy damask curtains were half-drawn against the ravages of the rain and no lamps illuminated the early morning gloom. The duke sat behind his desk, his face in profile and his expression unreadable. Sir John lounged against the wall. Nicholas held out a chair for Elizabeth and took up a position to one side of her.

The duke linked his hands on the desk and appeared to contemplate his thumbs. "I've a question for you. Where is the code?"

Elizabeth raised her chin. "I'm not quite sure what you are talking about, Your Grace. I locked the last coded message you gave me in my desk as instructed." She glanced around at Sir John and Nicholas with carefully feigned surprise. "Are you telling me that the code has disappeared? Or are you accusing me of stealing it?"

The duke held up a piece of blue tinted parchment, which she recognized instantly. "I have the code, Miss Waterstone. It appears to have been damaged. Do you have the translation?"

"Unfortunately, Your Grace, as you have no doubt observed, I spilt water on the original and I've been unable to decipher it."

"Balderdash, Miss Waterstone." Sir John snapped. "I've seen you working on the translation for the last few days."

Elizabeth stiffened as Sir John abandoned the wall and took a threatening step toward her. The duke cleared his throat and Sir John went still like a well-trained hunting dog.

"We have all seen you puzzling over the code and we have all discussed the translation with you." Gervase held her gaze, his tone deliberate. "Are you trying to tell me you were too embarrassed to own up to the fact that you couldn't break it?"

Elizabeth almost crumbled at the duke's scathing tone and sternly reminded herself that she had not expected her task to be easy. "After Sir John's attempts to make me feel superfluous, did you think I would willingly admit I had failed?"

The duke rose to his feet and leaned forward. "With all due respect, Miss Waterstone, I think that you are lying. Did you deliberately deface the code so that no one else could read it? Where is the translation?"

"I did not deface it deliberately. It was an accident."

Elizabeth glared back at him, refusing to be intimidated and he sat down again. "Did you pass the translated code to your dear friend, Jack Llewelyn, when you met him yesterday at the coffee house?"

Elizabeth struggled to breathe as the conversation she had envisaged abruptly changed tack. "What do you know of Jack Llewelyn? Are you having me followed?"

"Of course I am. Nicholas has been your faithful shadow ever since you came to live here. You haven't answered my question. Did you give the code to Llewelyn?"

"No, I did not," she said calmly, thrown by this unexpected turn of events. "Mr. Llewelyn has nothing to do with the code. He cares for my brother Michael, who is an invalid."

Sir John gave a harsh laugh. "You expect the duke to believe such nonsense? Why would the son of the Duke of Carmarthen act as a nursemaid to your brother?"

Elizabeth frowned. "I didn't know that, Your Grace. I hired Mr. Llewelyn by letter. None of his references mentioned his antecedents."

The duke said nothing, seemingly content to let Sir John handle the investigation. Sir John advanced on Elizabeth until he blocked her view of the duke.