Tasha Alexander - And Only to Deceive

"It would be best, my dear girl, if we did not tell our general acquaintance of our understanding at present. Wear the ring as much as you like when you are with me and when you are alone, but not in public. Such a striking piece would be certain to draw attention, and I do not want anyone to think I have sought to win your affections while you are still in mourning. I would not have your reputation so tarnished."

My reputation? He did not want me to wear the ring where Fournier might see it; he had not been able to get it copied.

"I am nearly out of mourning, Andrew-it's only a matter of weeks. I don't think anyone would take notice."

"You are not to wear it in public, Emily." I did not like his tone.

"Already you consider yourself my master?"

"Yes," he said, smiling and coming back to me. "I shall have to take a firm hand with you. Give me the ring until you can be presented as my fiancée." I could not risk letting him get it from me.

"If you remove it from my hand, I shall not kiss you again until I can be presented as your fiancée," I said, simpering. "Can you wait that long?" I pulled him close to me. He took the bait and kissed me in the most horrendous way, all the while clumsily fondling my neck. My head throbbed.

"I am going to enjoy taking you as my wife," he said, his breath distressingly heavy. I stepped away, backing against the wall. "Your modesty suits you," he said, looking at my crimson face and neck. "A woman should not be too eager." The sound of breaking china came from my bedchamber.

"Oh, dear," I said, my voice trembling. "I'm afraid my maid must have broken something. Will you excuse me, Andrew? I really must see what she has done." Afraid that he would try to kiss me again, I walked quickly toward the door. He picked up his hat and his stick and followed me, kissing only my hand as he took his leave.

"I look forward to seeing you wearing my ring again. I shall call on you tomorrow."

I could not bear the thought of being alone with him. "Not tomorrow, Andrew. I've planned a trip to Versailles."

"Let me know as soon as you return." I locked the door after he left.

Cécile immediately appeared from the bedroom. "That man is more dreadful than I would have thought," she said. "You should not have been alone with him."

"There was no other way, Cécile." I called for Meg, wanting her to run a burning-hot bath for me as soon as possible. "I will not, however, repeat the experience. I shall be forever grateful to you for breaking whatever unfortunate object you did in order to rescue me."

"Something had to be done," she said, "and it was a very ugly vase."

14 SEPTEMBER 1888

BERKELEY SQUARE, LONDON

Lord Palmer dined with us tonight-made a point of steering conversation to things that might interest K, rather than letting us fall into our typical arguments about Achilles. Capital evening. K was a vision of perfect elegance and an excellent hostess. Imagine she will want to entertain on a grand scale next Season.

Hargreaves less than enthusiastic about hunting with spears. Says he'll spend his time trekking instead. Andrew Palmer's game for it, though. Wonder what Kimathi will think of my plan?

Before entirely succumbing to wretchedness the previous evening, I had the presence of mind to send out a note, requesting an immediate reply. When it came, I sent another two; I would have to wait only a short while longer for the resolution of this dreadful business. When I had told Andrew I planned to visit Versailles, I had no intention of actually doing so. Cécile, however, insisted that we do exactly that. It was too soon for the final stage of our plan, and I could not very well go anywhere in Paris, where Andrew might see me.

She was right, I knew, so we spent two days at the Sun King's spectacular palace, where I furiously sketched rooms that Cécile wanted to add to her collection of miniatures. The act of drawing calmed my restless mind, allowing me to think rationally about the pieces of the forgery scheme that still eluded me. I wondered who Andrew's connection at the museum was and how Colin was involved. Most worrisome, what part had Philip taken in the abominable crimes?

Upon our return to Paris, I found answers to the notes I had sent; everything was in place for Andrew's ruination.

The following afternoon he met me in the lobby, putting his arm around my waist in a manner most unwelcome to me. I gently removed it and gave him my arm instead.

"Really, Andrew, you are the one who was so insistent that our engagement remain a secret," I admonished him.

"You are difficult to resist."

"I must say that it shall be all I can do to keep from laughing when I see Monsieur Fournier today. To think that I now have his ring and that he has no idea. Promise me you will not tell him, Andrew. I so want to see the surprise on his face when he notices it on my hand."

"You're not wearing it, are you?" he asked, grabbing both my gloved hands.

"Of course not. I meant after our engagement is announced. I carry it with me at all times to remind me of you but will wear it only when we are alone." I smiled at him and raised an eyebrow. "You're beginning to make me question your sincerity, Andrew. Are you quite certain you plan to marry me?" I said, squeezing his arm lightly.

"Don't be ridiculous, Emily." We took a cab to Monsieur Fournier's house, not far from Cécile's. I would have preferred to walk, but Andrew could not be persuaded. I was thankful that the ride was a short one, leaving us little time alone in the closed carriage.

"I do not know how I allowed you to convince me to accompany you on such a tedious excursion," he said. "Must we really spend the afternoon looking at Fournier's dreary antiquities?"

"His collection is marvelous, Andrew. I don't see how your father's love of archaeology and Greece did not rub off on you at all."

"That, my dear, is because you were not subjected to innumerable tedious conversations on the topic from your earliest days. I am quite at a loss to see why you have any interest in such things. I shall have to find something better to occupy you once we are married."

The cab stopped at our destination before I had to answer this preposterous suggestion.

"I warn you that I shall tire of this endeavor quickly," he said as he helped me down from my seat. "Hargreaves and I are riding at three. If we are not done before then, I will excuse myself with little remorse."

"And leave me alone with Monsieur Fournier and the Lyttons? That hardly seems fair!" I cried, taking note of the fact that he planned to see Colin.

Now that we were at our destination, my heart began to pound so loudly I was afraid my companion would hear it. Monsieur Fournier greeted us and immediately led us to the room that housed his impressive collection. Lord Lytton and his wife were already waiting, sitting on heavy leather sofas whose slight smell of tobacco suggested that it was here that Monsieur Fournier and his close acquaintances retired after dinner to smoke. The ambassador rose to greet us, and I realized that my hand was shaking as he raised it to his lips. Why was this, the simplest part of my plan, causing me such anxiety? I clutched the small silk reticule that contained the ring as I conversed politely with Lady Lytton, barely aware of what I was saying. Before long, Monsieur Fournier suggested that we begin our tour.

His collection surpassed any that I had seen before, but my distracted frame of mind prevented me from appreciating the beauty of the pieces that filled his impressive gallery. Sofas and oversize chairs were placed intermittently through the chamber, strategically located to allow a person to sit, happily contemplating the lovely works before him. Unlike Philip's collection, which contained only objects from ancient Greece, Monsieur Fournier's spanned the whole of ancient history. Cuneiform tablets, Egyptian ushabti, and Roman mosaics adorned the walls and cases, along with spectacular pieces from Greece and Assyria. A small, partially reconstructed chapel that he had ordered moved, stone by stone, from Egypt stood along one wall, eerily backlit by the light streaming through the large windows lining the wall behind it.