Lady of Seduction (35 page)

“No, we don’t. Not even our mother wanted that in the end. Do you think she is happy with Monsieur Courtois?”

“I know she is. We had a letter from her and Eliza just a few days ago, and they are disgustingly happy in Lausanne. The monsieur
paints, Eliza writes her memoirs, and Mama nurses all the villagers. She wants us all to come and visit next year, if we can
travel on the Continent thanks to these horrid wars.”

Caroline’s heart ached suddenly with missing her mother and sister. If only they
could
all be together again, whether
at Killinan or in the cool shadows of a Swiss mountain. She and Anna, Conlan and Grant, all the children—they would all go
there one day soon. “And so we will. In the meantime, I think I feel like a dance after all.”

Signora Rastrelli, the former Lady Cannondale, lived in one of the largest, newest houses just off St. Stephen’s Green. The
gleaming white stone edifice, faced with soaring Palladian columns and tall windows sparkling with candlelight, seemed to
positively vibrate with merriment. A long line of carriages inched toward the front steps, where a stylishly dressed throng
waited to enter the packed foyer.

Caroline leaned her elbow on the ledge of their carriage window and peered out at the laughing gathering. It all seemed so
strange and disconnected from everything else that was happening in Dublin. Here there was no strife, no threatened violence,
no furious rebels lurking in the shadows. Only music and gossipy chatter.

She smoothed the pale blue silk skirt of her gown. It was her own dress, fetched from her town house in a hastily packed trunk,
but it felt alien against her skin with its long skirt and tight, short sleeves. Even the pearls around her neck, a wedding
gift from Hartley, seemed strange. Had she really been away from her life so very long?

I shouldn’t be here, she thought. She should be with Grant, fighting with him in whatever he was doing. Their journey had
shown they could be a good team. It had shown her she
could
be strong, stronger than she had ever imagined. And that she loved Grant more than she ever thought she could love anyone.

But she also didn’t want to distract him at such a delicately balanced moment, and she had to reenter the world at some time.
Perhaps she could even discover something useful here, among all these powerful people. They would be dancing and drinking,
trying to forget their troubles and not minding their words. Especially around quiet Lady Hartley.

She did wish the party wasn’t at Signora Rastrelli’s, of all places. She remembered well the former Lady Cannondale, Anna’s
old bosom bow and her partner in mischief before she became the Duchess of Adair and settled down, and before Lady Cannondale
married her young Italian lover and went to live abroad for a time. Caroline especially remembered seeing Lady Cannondale
passionately embracing Grant in a darkened corridor at a long-ago party.

“You are very quiet, Caro,” Anna said. “Perhaps you
are
too tired for a party. I should not have dragged you here.”

Caroline smiled at her sister across the carriage. “I’m quite well, Anna. I was just thinking how odd this seems after—well,
after everything I’ve seen in the last few weeks.”

“Dancing while Rome burns, you mean?” Anna said with a strange little smile. “It is odd indeed, but that’s always the way
of Dublin, isn’t it? Danger seems to give a desperate edge to our party-loving ways. I would rather stay home with the children,
but it’s important to know exactly what’s going on with the people who will be at this dance.”

Anna peered outside, her eyes narrowed as she examined the people pouring through the doors. Caroline suddenly felt rather
foolish. Her sister was not just here to dance after all. She was here to do just what Caroline
herself was thinking—to see what useful information she could gather.

“People aren’t as cautious when they’ve had a few glasses of fine French wine,” Caroline said.

Anna smiled. “Exactly, sister. They’re also quite free with their words when they’re in familiar surroundings among their
own kind. They’re wary with my husband, but not so much with me, even after my years of marriage to Conlan. They still think
I’m just Lady Killinan’s feather-headed daughter, sadly seduced by a ducal title and concerned only with the latest style
of bonnets. I hear so many things at parties—and so will you.”

Caroline leaned toward her sister and said quietly, “Anna, where exactly are Grant and Conlan tonight?”

Anna’s brow wrinkled, and Caroline saw a shadow pass over her eyes. “I’m not sure. But I know where to send a message if it’s
needed, and so can you.” She reached for Caroline’s gloved hand and squeezed it hard. “Oh, Caro, I am so happy you’re here
now. I have a true friend and ally.”

Caroline squeezed her hand back. “Are you happy, Anna? I was afraid you wouldn’t approve of my being with Grant for all these
weeks.”

Anna shook her head. “I do wish you could have found someone else to care for—anyone else. Except maybe someone like General
Fox or Lord Hardwicke. I would definitely
not
have approved of that.”

Caroline laughed. “No chance of that. I hear they’re both terribly old and bad tempered.”

“All that and they’re Tories, too,” Anna said with a laugh. “But I could see even back before the fire that there was something
between you two. We don’t choose who
we fall in love with, and sometimes it’s with someone terribly inconvenient.”

“Like with you and Conlan?”

“Yes. He was a wildly imprudent choice. Yet look at us now.”

“You’re a family,” Caroline said. “True partners, just like Eliza and Will, and Mama and her monsieur.”

“Bad choices all. You say Grant has changed, and Conlan thinks that as well.”

“He has changed, Anna. I’ve seen it in so very many ways.”

“We’ll see soon enough,” Anna said. “I want you to be happy, Caro. No one deserves it more than you. Just be very careful.”

The carriage finally jolted to a halt at the foot of the marble steps, and a footman opened the door for them.

“And the curtain rises,” Anna said. She stepped down in a flurry of lavender skirts, a bright smile on her face. She flicked
open her lace fan, and no one watching her would suspect she had anything on her mind but an evening of frivolity.

Caroline would just have to follow her example. She pasted on her own sociable smile and alighted from the carriage to follow
Anna up the front steps.

The foyer was crowded to the silk-papered walls with people. They tumbled up the winding staircase and into the open doors
of the library and a small sitting room. Their laughter blended with the strains of music floating down from the ballroom
above.

The air grew heavy and thick with the scents of hothouse roses and perfumes and of close-packed bodies. Caroline’s head swam
with it all, but she kept on smiling.
She looked around to see who was there and listened carefully to hear what they might be talking about.

“My dearest duchess!” she heard Signora Rastrelli cry.

Caroline turned to see Anna embrace the signora, who wore an amber-yellow muslin gown cut perilously low in the very latest
fashion. Her auburn hair was piled high and dressed with golden feathers. She was as glamorous as ever.

“I’m so glad you could come tonight,” the signora said. “It would not be the same without you.”

“Well, we must distract ourselves the best we can these days, Jane,” Anna said. “And what better way than with dancing? I
have long wanted to try the waltz.”

“It’s just as scandalous as reported, I assure you,” Signora Rastrelli said. “And I do hope you’ll partner with Lord Childress
tonight, duchess. He has just arrived from a privy council meeting at the Castle. Such a stuffy nuisance on such a lovely
day.”

A fleeting glance passed between the two women. Caroline only saw because she was watching very closely. Signora Rastrelli
worked with Anna and Conlan as well. Who else was part of this web?

Caroline shook her head. How very much she missed while buried in her books.

“I am sure you remember my sister, Lady Hartley,” Anna said. She reached for Caroline’s hand and drew her forward. “I hope
you don’t mind that I brought her along. She’s just back from a research holiday in the north.”

“Not at all! The more guests the better, I always think.” Signora Rastrelli glanced down at Caroline’s gown and up again to
her face as they curtsied to each other. “I haven’t seen you since before I left for Italy, Lady Hartley. I declare, you are
quite grown-up now.”

“I hope so, Signora Rastrelli, since I am a widow now,” Caroline said with a laugh. “Much has changed in Dublin since you
left.”

“And yet so much has stayed just the same,” said the signora. “I hope you have come prepared to dance, Lady Hartley, as your
sister has. There are so many
interesting
partners to be had if you are inclined as the duchess is.”

“I daresay I might be,” Caroline said.

“That is excellent to hear.” Signora Rastrelli held out her hand, and an impossibly handsome raven-haired man hurried over
to kiss it. “This is my husband, Signor Gianni Rastrelli. He will escort you into the ballroom. The dance master will give
a waltzing lesson before we begin.”

The signor offered his arms to Anna and Caroline with a soft, “Ah,
bella duchessina
! Such an honor to assist two such beautiful ladies.”

He saw them up the stairs and into the rose-lined ballroom, where a small man atop a tall dais was demonstrating the turns
and swoops of the new Viennese dance. Anna quickly found Lord Childress and took his arm with a sweet smile and a murmured,
“Poor Lord Childress! I heard you had such a dull and trying day.”

Signor Rastrelli himself partnered Caroline in the lesson. He was most charming, even though he didn’t seem to speak much
English, and Caroline soon found herself laughing and enjoying the swirling, skipping steps of the dance. It was much more
fun than a staid minuet or intricate reel. Perhaps she could even like this sort of dancing—especially if Grant would one
day partner her. Surely she could waltz forever with his hand on her waist and his eyes gazing into hers.

But she was not at the party to daydream and have fun.
She was there to help Anna if she could. Once the lesson was over and the dancing began in earnest, she sought out partners
who worked at the Castle or in the barracks. They were full of warnings that “young ladies” should mind where they traveled
in the city, but not much of real use.

Until she found herself dancing with a young officer who had clearly been dipping deeply into the signora’s excellent punch.
His steps were stumbling in the dance, his hand clammy on hers even through their gloves. Caroline steadied him and guided
them both until the end of the dance.

“You are at the Cork Street barracks, are you not, Captain Williams?” Caroline said as he stumbled against her shoulder again.

“Yes, Lady Hartley, and a blasted nuisance it is now,” he answered, his words slightly slurred.

“How so, captain?”

“All the new reinforcements they’ve brought in these last few weeks, of course. Rustic troops most of them with no idea how
we do things in the city. And there’s no time to train them.”

“How will they ever learn the proper procedures then?”

“On patrol, mostly. They send them out with us to look for arms depots that the blasted rebels have put around the city. More
trouble than they’re worth, Lady Hartley. Their bumbling scares off the Irish, and the caches have been cleared by the time
we get there. And then
we’re
the ones reprimanded.”

“How dreadful!”

“They’re demmed sly, these rebels. There’ll be trouble any day now. You should leave Dublin, Lady Hartley, or
at least don’t venture into unsafe sections of town. Can’t be too careful these days.”

“You’re quite right, Captain Williams. It’s most fearsome. What sections of town would you advise me to avoid? Where has your
regiment been ordered next?”

The evening swirled onward, dance after dance, punch bowls and wineglasses emptied and refilled. The ballroom grew even more
crowded and warm, the music louder. Caroline’s feet ached from dancing, and her cheeks hurt from smiling, but she had gathered
some quite useful tidbits along the way.

Until everything was shattered by a loud explosion. Bright, sparkling lights glittered outside the windows like fireworks
on the king’s birthday—but this was surely no harmless spectacle.

Confusion broke out on the dance floor. Ladies screamed and gentlemen swore, and there was a stampede to the windows as another
explosion lit up the night.

Caroline ran to the windows with everyone else. She managed to squeeze in front of the crowd just as yet another explosion
went off overhead. It was no cannon.

“Signal rockets from Coal Quay,” Captain Williams said. He sounded shocked into soberness.

“Oh, dear Lord, it’s starting!” a woman shrieked. “We’ll all be piked to death.”

Caroline pressed her ear closer to the window. She could hear crackling sounds in the distance, like gunfire and the echo
of shouts made louder through the glass. Was that woman right? Was it all starting right now? It was so much faster than anyone
expected.