Wicked (41 page)

Both men looked at her for a moment, surprised at her fury. In their masculine world women were essentially disenfranchised.

"I have a proposition," she said into the silence, bartering for some mastery in the cool disposal of her body, determined to exact revenge for Beau St. Jules's presumptions. "Something more interesting than this bourgeois exchange of gold."

Massena inclined his head.

"One game of loo to decide this issue. If I win, I leave here tonight. If not, I stay with the victor." Her voice was level, the heat of her anger so intense she was without fear. And if her rage had been so powerfully provoked earlier, she might have been bold enough to consider the notion sooner.

Massena didn't hesitate a second; one of his best qualities as a strategist was his ability to make instant decisions. He reached for the deck of cards. "Loo or faro?" he inquired. "Or something else. The choice is yours, Miss Blythe."

"Loo." It was her virtuoso specialty, as sex was for Beau St. Jules.

"Is that amenable to you, Rochefort?" the general inquired, his courtesy faultless, his mood agreeable; there was a piquant excitement in a game of chance with a lady as prize. And he had two opportunities to wi
n
—
h
is hand and Rochefort's. If St. Jules won, he'd still charge him for the pleasure of taking the lady away. He liked the odds.

"Fine," Beau said, sweeping his saddlebags from the table.

They cut for the deal and Massena had high card. He had the advantage now of playing last, but seated to his left, Serena would lea
d
—
a
slight benefit.

The cards were dealt, three each, and a ten of hearts turned up for trump. "I think five thousand ducats will do to start," Massena said, counting out his markers, "or its equivalent in florins, Rochefort, if you prefer."

And the game began.

Serena had only one trump, a king of heart
s
—
h
igh but not an ace. Should she lead with it and gamble no one had the ace or play more conservatively and wait to see what the others had? She had to win two out of three tricks to win the game. Now wasn't the time to play conservatively, she decided, letting her instincts drive her. She led with her king of hearts.

A risky move, Beau thought, and gave her high marks for courage. If Massena had the ace, she'd lose her lead. He placed his nine of hearts on the table.

Massena followed with a queen of hearts.

And Serena's pulse rate slowed to a more manageable level. She'd won the first trick.

"Congratulations, mademoiselle." Massena smiled faintly, recognizing she'd risked all leading with her high card. "Your luck is holding," he pleasantly added.

"Perhaps that's why they call it Lady Luck," Serena genially replied, buoyed by an irrepressible sense of good fortune.

Beau scowled. She'd gone for broke on that lea
d
—
n
ot the work of an amateur.

"Some people don't like to lose," Serena sweetly said, glancing at Beau over her cards.

"Keep it in mind."

"I certainly will, Lord Rochefort. But you have two more chances to win, so you needn't become surly yet."

"Children, children," Massena lightly chided. "I so dislike controversy."

"My apologies, sir," Serena quickly interposed, not inclined to anger the man who might let her walk free. "I'm quite ready to begin."

And she quickly perused the two cards left in her hand. Sometimes you can smell it, her father used to sa
y
—
t
he winds of providence. Her nostrils flared as she inhaled, and gambling that Massena didn't have any more trumps or he wouldn't have played his queen, hoping Beau wasn't lying in wait with the ace of hearts, Serena led with her ace of spades. And for a second she hoped she wasn't
tempting
providence. She desperately needed this trick. The low card left in her hand was useless.

Damn her, she played recklessly, Beau disgruntedly reflected, forced to admire her nerv
e
—
s
he could lose her ace with any low card of hearts. But required to follow suit, he was obliged to play his only power car
d
—
t
he king of spades.

Massena played a five of spades.

And Serena allowed herself a restrained smile of triumph.

She'd taken the second trick.

"Thank you, gentlemen," she politely said, as if her life hadn't hung in the balance. "
It
's been a pleasure."

"You're a marvel to behold, Miss Blythe," Massena stated, impressed by the lady's true proficiency displayed for the first time that evening. "Where did you acquire such skill?"

"At my papa's knee, General."

"You never played like that before," Beau said, his eyes penetrating, cool.

"I was never about to be purchased before. And you know me very little, Lord Rochefort," she mocked.

"For now," he said between his teeth.

"For
ever,
milord," she countered, rising from her chair. And now if you'll excuse me, I'm keen to begin my return journey to Florence."

"I'll send an escort with you. Solignac," Mass
e
na called, beckoning his chief of staff over.

"I appreciate it, sir." Serena was not foolish enough to refuse. A woman alone on the road was fair prey
to
anyone.

"The mademoiselle is leaving us, Solignac," Massena mildly said when his aide approached. "I'd like you to escort her back to Florence."

"Yes, sir." Solignac's face was expressionless; he'd hear the details in good time, he knew.

"Ready a troop," Massena ordered, "and Miss Blythe will be down directly."

"Thank you, sir," Serena said as the colonel turned and left.

"Solignac doesn't always make wise choices," Massena noted with a shrug. "But perhaps we'll meet again."

"I appreciate your kindness."

"Take the emeralds. As part of your winning hand. And the ante."

"I couldn't, sir."

"I insist." His expression changed subtly; he was once again the commander-in-chief.

"Thank you," she sensibly replied. "You're much too generous."

"Remind Solignac we're in need of him here once he gets to Florence. I know how avaricious his collecting zeal is."

"I don't think he'd heed me, sir."

Massena laughed. "The lady's a realist, eh, Rochefort?" He cast a glance at Beau, sprawled glowering in his chair.

"Supremely," Beau murmured.

"Come now, Rochefort, Miss Blythe won fairly. Give her her due."

"I intend to," he ominously returned.

"And I'll bid you gentlemen adieu," Serena airily said, waving away Beau's threat. "Pleasant journey home, Lord Rochefort, my thanks to you, General." She curtseyed, the emeralds twinkling on her shapely, quivering breasts and she was gone a moment later, only the scent of jasmine lingering in the air.

"Rochefort, you're taking this too seriously," Massena cajoled. "You didn't lose that muc
h
—
a
few thousand florins and there are hundreds of other women to replace Miss Blythe, lovely as she is." A rueful philosophical edge colored his voice, his premise put to the test this year without Teo. "What matters
whom
you fuck," he said, "as long as the woman's willing an
d
available. Tell Pitt tha
t
—he drinks too much and doesn't fuck enough. It makes him unimaginative."

"Not Bonaparte's problem," Beau sardonically replied.

"My point exactly." The general seemed to relax again, his familiar insouciant tone restored. "Tell me what you wan
t
—
a
nother fair-haired beauty? Londes will find you one to soothe your dark mood. And now that we're about to sign a peace treaty with Austria once again, I won't even confiscate your gold. Smile at least for that," Massena said, his mouth faintly quirked, past memories neatly closed away. He could take the gold if he wished; he could take it all and keep Beau prisoner too if he wanted, with England still conditionally at war with France. But the island kingdom was without allies at the moment now that the truce was signed, without a land army of any consequence, not likely to prove a difficult adversary at least for the immediate future. He could afford to be magnanimous.

Beau smiled at his gracious host, at the general who was the most capable of all the marshals of France. And then he said, "What kind of a blond woman?"

Massena roared with laughter and waved over his ADC Londes. "Lord Rochefort will be joining us this evening and he prefers a blonde. Whom do we have that would appeal to him?"

By inclination and choice Hippolyte Londes enjoyed his duties as procuring agent for the headquarter
'
s staff. There were always ladies of every persuasion who weren't disinclined to enjoying the favors of the victors. "The Contessa Figlio, sir, is decidedly blond and very passionate."

"Could you have her brought here, in sa
y
—
a
n hour?"

"And for you, sir?"

"Bring me a Gypsy. I'm suddenly tired and beyond wooing." And prey to the disillusion and insidious melancholy Teo
'
s memory always evoked.

Londes appeared at the general's table in an hour as directed. "The ladies are waiting, sir."

Massena looked across the table at Beau. "Have you had enough of cards, Rochefort?" The men had been drinking and idly playing vingt-et-un, discussing mutual friends in the officer corps of their respective nations. Massena had served fourteen years in the Royal Army before the revolution; he had acquaintances in both England and the royalist camp, while Beau had met many officers over the past few years in the course of his missions for Pitt.

"Mustn't keep the ladies waiting," Beau pleasantly said, "although after days without rest I'm more apt to sleep in bed tonight."

"Not after you've seen Countess Figlio, Rochefort," Massena noted, coming to his feet. "Her husband was very
o
ld."

"Was?"

"He died in bed after some strenuous activities." The general's smile was eloquent.

"Surely a gratifying way to go," Beau murmured, rising from his chair.

"I can guarantee you'll be satisfied, Lord Rochefort," Londes asserted, directing them with a small bow toward the double doors leading to the hall.

"You've tried her," Beau mildly said, the faintest query in his statement.

"Hippolyte prides himself on his dedication to duty. Jon : you my boy?" Massena's drollery was softly put.

"I'm only concerned that the women are worthy o
t
your interest, sir." The young fair-haired adjunct's eyes were as innocent as his tone.

"He does damned fine work, Rochefort. You won't be disappointed. Did you bring Delfine?" the general went on, the men striding side by side down the broad candlelit corridor adorned with murals of Olympian gods and goddesses.

"She was most eager, sir."

"She's a greedy little thing in more ways than one. Thank you, Hippolyte. I think I've been working too hard."

"You always do, sir. I'll te
l
l Franco you're going to sleep late tomorrow."

"Breakfast at nine, Rochefort?" Massena said. "Or is that too early for you?"

"Nine's fine. I should start back for Leghorn tomorrow." His expression went grim for a moment at the thought of his useless journey, of his wasted thoughts for a woman who had more avaricious priorities.

"Give my regards to Madelina," Massena said, stopping at the entrance to his suite. "Hippolyte will show you to your rooms." His eyes were half-lidded from weariness but he smiled graciously. "A pleasant adventure, Rochefort."