Page 29 of The Duke of Cups (The Highwaymen #3)

DUNROSE TOLD HER she couldn’t go down there without him, and she was shaking all over, shaking like a terrified rabbit, which bothered him.

He asked her if Champeraigne had ever hurt her, and she said no, but that she was frightened of him all the same, and she thought that was only intelligent.

He had to admit she was right.

He also had to admit that it wasn’t the comte’s way to be obvious and violent about things. He would be more elegant about it if he intended harm, and it would be all the worse because of it.

Damn it. Damn everything.

You had to go walking to her house last night, did you?

He wanted to be touching her when they entered the breakfast parlor.

He would have liked to have his arm around her, to keep her tucked safely against his body, to show Champeraigne that he would protect this woman.

But barring that, to have a hand on her back, or her shoulder, at the very least. She would not allow it, however.

She made her come in behind him.

Champeraigne was seated at the table in front of an empty plate. He wasn’t smiling, and Dunrose realized that Champeraigne was almost always smiling, almost always looking pleased with the state of things, as if he could triumph over any eventuality .

Seeing Champeraigne grim made Dunrose smile.

He felt nearly merry, in fact. It was very good to be tupping Hyacinth, the best thing he had perhaps ever known, but it was all the better to be doing it if it displeased Champeraigne.

He sat down and poured himself some chocolate from the chocolate pot.

“Such a pleasant surprise, comte,” he said. “I wasn’t expecting to have a guest for breakfast.”

Hyacinth was hovering, looking at two chairs, one between himself and Champeraigne and one on the opposite side of him. He pulled her down into that one, so that he was between her and her husband.

She stared down at the table, still looking worried and frightened.

This caused Dunrose to feel grim too. The smile slid from his face.

“I shouldn’t have underestimated you, my dear,” said Champeraigne to Hyacinth.

“I should have realized that you grew up under the tutelage of Seraphine, and that you were not nearly as naive and guileless as you appear. I cannot believe that I took your word for it, that you were in this man’s bed simply because he was pretty. ”

Dunrose smiled again. “You think I’m pretty?” he said to her.

She shot him a withering glance and then addressed her husband.

“I did not intend to come here with him last night. I did not intend to be gone until the morning. I have been thinking about it, and I think perhaps I should simply quit London, get away from him. Marian will likely be making ready to go to the country for the summer, and she would be willing to allow me to stay with her for some time, I should think. I could send her a letter today and ask her.”

Champeraigne let out a long chuckle. “You think I’m incredibly idiotic, I see. Well, I have behaved that way, have I not? I am not letting you out of my sight, little kitten. You are scheming to do away with me, and I have been a fool to think otherwise.”

Hyacinth’s lips parted, and she looked surprised that he would say that. But then she shook her head, looking down at the table, seeming to accept it. It was a reasonable assumption on Champeraigne’s part.

Dunrose took a drink of chocolate and leaned back in his chair. “Oh, come now, comte, if I were really in the midst of some scheme to use her against you, wouldn’t I be a bit more discreet about my interactions with her?”

Champeraigne turned to look at him, furrowing his brow.

“The truth is,” said Dunrose. “She is that naive and guileless. But there’s something about her that undoes me. Yes, I thought to use her against you. I truly did. But now I am only lost, I’m afraid. Quite lost. Even more lost than I usually am, and that is saying something.”

“I am not naive,” said Hyacinth in a soft but firm voice.

Champeraigne let out a bitter laugh.

Dunrose regarded her. “Have some chocolate, love. Or perhaps some nice, strong tea.”

“I can’t let you cuckold me so brazenly, Dunrose,” said Champeraigne.

“If you keep this up, I shall have to do something about it, likely challenge you to a duel or something of that nature. I’ll have Rutchester stand in for me.

The two of you can shoot at each other, but shoot wide, and then neither of you will be damaged.

But that won’t solve the problem, not if you can’t keep your hands off my wife. ”

“I can’t,” said Dunrose. “I’m more attached to her than I ever was to laudanum.”

Hyacinth hit him under the table.

He turned to look at her.

But she pretended as if she hadn’t done anything. “And this, you see, is why I am not naive or guileless, because when he says pretty falsehoods like this one, I know he is only seeking to manipulate me.”

Dunrose set down his cup of chocolate. “Manipulate you to do what, exactly?”

“Oh, you know what,” she said. “This is the entire purpose of this conversation, is it not? You hate my husband. I personally have no real quarrel with him. ”

Champeraigne laughed again, bitterly. “Oh, there is someone here doing the manipulating, but I can’t say who it is.

I cannot quite get a handle on your behavior, I must say.

You’re right, Dunrose. If you’re scheming against me, you’re doing a terrible job at it.

And, as much as you like to play that you’re too stupid to know what it is you’re doing, I know that you are more shrewd than you let on. ”

Dunrose shook his head. “Shrewd is something I’ve never been, comte.

If I’d been shrewd, I would have shot her when she recognized me, killed her and been done with it.

I am all but gone now. Back on the opium, out of control, sleeping all day, stealing her away from your house in the night, and no better off in regards to you or your control over me and the others.

” He sighed. “Maybe she should go to the country, away from us both.”

Of course, without her, what was the point of anything at all?

Perhaps he could get free of the opium again, but he would still be stuck in this life of his, the one where he was controlled by this French madman and where he was forced to rob carriages and where he had nothing to live for, nothing at all.

He got up from the table and went to the door to address a servant. “Bring me one of my flasks, if you please.” If he lost her, he was not going to get free of the opium. He was going to get more badly dependent. He thought of her being gone, and it was like looking into a bleak winter storm.

“You’re going to have more laudanum?” she said as he sat back down.

“Oh, you don’t approve?” He lounged into his chair. “You see, you’d be better off away from me, love.”

She nodded. “That is undoubtedly true.”

“There,” said Dunrose to Champeraigne. “We are all decided. Send her away, then. Everything can continue exactly as it has been.”

One of the servants came in with a flask.

Dunrose opened it and took a long drink.

Hyacinth gave him a bewildered look that also seemed somewhat wounded .

He felt a stab of some dark emotion. He had wished to protect her from Champeraigne when they’d entered this room, but now it all bled out of him. He was no protector. He was nothing. He never had been anything.

Champeraigne looked him over. “Could she be carrying your child?”

Dunrose grimaced into the flask of laudanum.

“Damnation,” growled Champeraigne, getting to his feet. “Come along, Hyacinth. We shall find somewhere for you to go, but it won’t be with your friend, and it won’t be a place of your choosing.”

“Oh?” she said, folding her arms over her chest. “Is that so? You think you’ll just order me around? The both of you.” She glared at Dunrose, who felt himself shrinking from her in shame, and then at Champeraigne, lifting her chin regally as she stared her husband down.

“I told you, my dear, that I would not tolerate another man’s bastard, did I not? I said this in our first conversation.”

“You said you’d ruin me and leave me to fend for myself if it happened,” she said. “You said nothing of holding me prisoner or sending me off alone in exile somewhere. I never agreed to such a thing. I may be your wife, but I am not yours to do with as you please.”

“As it happens, having an unfaithful wife is not particularly good for the state of my investments, currently,” said Champeraigne. “Your dowry means that I look far less desperate, and people are quite free with their purses.”

“Seraphine says it is not likely,” said Hyacinth. “I am due to begin bleeding soon, anyway.”

Dunrose looked up at her. “I truly am sorry, you know.”

She looked at him with something like disgust. “I am through with you now, Daniel.”

The last time she’d said his first name, she’d been telling him she loved him. Now, she was saying this. It made something in him jerk painfully to hear it. He drank more laudanum, sinking further into his chair.

She stalked across the room to Champeraigne. “We’ll discuss this at home, husband.”

Champeraigne leaned on his cane. “After you, my darling.”

Hyacinth walked out of the room without giving Dunrose another look.

He stayed at the table for a while, looking at the food. He’d had too much laudanum lately, however, and he didn’t have much of an appetite. Eventually, he took the flask and went back to his bedchamber. He settled on the bed. It smelled like her.

He lay down and wrapped himself in her scent.

The opium took him again.