—JEAN GIONO
Rafael was abstracted. Normally, Victoria reflected, whenever he played her lady’s maid, he would kiss her neck, light nipping kisses, and his hands would rove over and around the button fastenings. This evening, however, he planted only one rather perfunctory kiss on her left earlobe, straightened, and absented his mind.
When she sat down in front of her dressing table, she eyed him in her mirror. “All right, what’s bothering you?”
He actually looked startled. “However can you think that anything is wrong?”
She laughed at his bewilderment. “Do you think I’m blind? Do you think I have no knowledge of you at all? It’s rather obvious to me, Rafael. If nothing were bothering you, you would be bothering me until I was swatting at your hands as fast as I could.”
“Ah.” He grinned, and managed something of his normal lecherous look.
“Tell me. Is it the incident with this Hellfire Club?”
Rafael gave it up. He might as well tell her a bit of it. She might have some ideas. “Yes. I just happened to see Dr. Ludcott. He spoke to me of it. It turns out that
the girl, Joan, remembers a roomful of people dressed all in black, their heads and faces also covered in black. Then she was being laid on a long table and went to sleep. Obviously they drugged her.” He paused a moment, looked at the Aubusson carpet intently, and added, “Did you know that Joan Newdowns is fourteen years old?”
Victoria winced. “I knew she was young, but . . . “Oh, God, that’s awful, Rafael. Did she recognize any of their voices? Can she remember anything that might help?”
He looked at her for a long moment, then said, much to her astonishment, “Yes, she did.”
“You’re jesting. Truly?”
“Yes. She’s not certain, of course, but just before she went to sleep, she heard all of them talking—arguing, she thinks. She told her mother she heard David Esterbridge. Dr. Ludcott, when Mrs. Newdowns told him of it, nearly dropped with apoplexy on the spot. He doesn’t know what to do, which is why he cornered me. Who, he was whining, would believe a fourteen-year-old girl?”
“Everyone would if it were anyone other than Squire Esterbridge’s son. Their family’s been practically an institution for generations, and the squire—well, everyone likes him immensely.”
“Exactly. An interesting problem.” Rafael paused, looked at Victoria with a serious expression, and said quite calmly, “As I told Dr. Ludcott, no one would possibly imagine a bunch of hooligans or lower-class ruffians raping a girl the way this was done. Or the way any of the others were done. First, such a group wouldn’t have the money to pay the fathers. No, the ritual and the outward secrecy of the black masks makes it very unlikely. Ludcott agreed, but was very unhappy about it, as you can well imagine. I also suggested to him that he keep quiet about it for the moment. Impossible to confront either David or Squire Esterbridge. A waste of time, certainly, and it would cause an unlimited amount of bad feeling. One also has to wonder why they chose to call themselves the Hellfire Club, aping that infamous group of men some forty years ago. No, it’s wild young men hereabouts who are responsible. And they must be stopped. Thus my obvious distraction, Victoria, at least to you.”
“You’re forgiven. Did Joan Newdowns recognize anyone else’s voice?”
“No. Then again, Esterbridge is one of the few young bloods hereabouts who spends a bit of time in St. Austell. Joan’s mother does sewing for Mrs. Lemarth on Front Street, and Joan visits her quite a bit. It’s natural that she would see and hear David Esterbridge.” He paused a moment, looking thoughtful. “As a matter of fact, it’s possible that David is the one who spotted Joan Newdowns as their next rape victim.”
“So this is why you wanted a ball.”
“I doubt your mind spends much time in the shade, sweetheart. Let’s say that it will give me the opportunity to see all these wild gentlemen and plant, shall we say, a few seeds of my own hellfire.”
“You wanted the ball before this occurred to Joan Newdowns.”
He cursed softly, then tried for an indifferent grin. He failed, of course. Victoria watched him shrug himself into an exquisite coat of black satin.
“And since you wanted the ball before this occurred, it’s obvious to me that someone in London asked you to involve yourself in this Hellfire Club business. Am I right?”
Rafael negligently straightened his cravat, his example of the Oriental, and not excessively successful. He didn’t say a word; in fact, he started humming.
“You were asked to involve yourself because of the peer’s daughter. I assume that simple peasant girls wouldn’t receive such attention, but a peer’s daughter? Yes, indeed, so you agreed to look into the matter.”
He turned then and she found herself momentarily forgetting everything except him. His linen and cravat were snowy white. He looked delicious to Victoria. She imagined herself undressing him very slowly, her fingers finally on the buttons of his breeches, and she shivered with her fantasy.
“What is that all about?” Rafael asked, smiling at the dreamy expression on her face. To his surprise, she flushed deeply. “Oh ho. I must know now, Victoria. Could it be that you are thinking about what I’m going to do to you at dawn tomorrow?”
“If you would know,” she said finally, giving him a look of great dislike, “I was thinking about what I would do to you.” There, she thought, seeing that he was clearly taken aback, she’d finally gotten the last word.
“Tell me,” he said. His voice was deep and smooth, his gray eyes intent on her face. “Tell me what you were thinking.”
She lowered her eyes a moment, shaken by his intensity. “It wasn’t all that complete. Truly.”
“What had you completed?”