And Only to Deceive (26 page)

“Everything has its price, my dear.” At last the man spoke the truth. I gazed into his eyes and knew that I had him.

“If only that were the case.” I sighed. “I would be eternally indebted to anyone who could convince him to sell. I’m sure it must seem trivial, but knowing what I now do about Philip, the ring has become something of a symbol to me.”

“I do not think it is trivial in the least, Emily. The ring has taken on great significance to you.”

“Angry though I am, I cannot abandon Philip in Africa. But given that it seems very unlikely he is alive, I do not want to risk your health or that of your brother in the venture. I have written to Lord Lytton asking him to arrange for an official search party of sorts. I’m not sure what he will be able to do, but I do not doubt that it will be adequate.” I took his hand. “And so, my dear friend, I have called you here to relieve you from your duties as expedition director and to beg your forgiveness for my own shortcomings.”

“There is nothing to forgive. I shall never breathe a word of this to anyone.”

“Thank you, Andrew. I know that I am asking a great deal of you.”

“Do not mention it again,” he said, still holding my hand. “Will you return to London immediately?”

“No. The thought of going back to Philip’s house no longer appeals to me. I think I shall stay in Paris and take on the role of eccentric widow.” I looked in his eyes. “Although I will admit that being a widow is not quite as appealing to me as it once was. I didn’t think it would be this lonely.”

“You feel lonely because you have suffered so great a betrayal. It will not last forever.”

“You are right,” I said, forcing my face to brighten. “There is no cause for despair. I shall enter the Parisian social scene with a vengeance, announcing my intention of marrying the first gentleman who can produce for me the Trojan-horse ring.”

Andrew laughed but met my eyes with a steady gaze.

“Of course, it would be rather embarrassing if Monsieur Fournier took the opportunity to offer it to me himself.”

“Oh—it’s in Fournier’s collection?” Andrew said, his voice returning to its usual bored drawl. “I shouldn’t think his wife would let him part with it.”

9 J
ULY
1888
F
LORENCE

T
HREE DAYS PASSED WITH LITTLE INCIDENT.
C
ÉCILE AND
I agreed that my discussion with Andrew had gone as well as we could have wanted; now we could only hope that the lure of my fortune would be great enough to tempt him to steal Fournier’s ring. There was nothing more we could do.

Margaret sent a wonderful letter describing her sister’s wedding in the most humorous detail. American socialites, apparently, are at least as silly as their English counterparts, and their antics made for delightful reading. Also enclosed were some simple passages in Greek from the
Iliad
. Mr. Moore be damned, she said, I was ready for Homer. Expecting that I would not receive her letter until my return from Africa, she suggested that I have my husband assist me with them. I succumbed to a brief moment of melancholy, knowing that the translation would be done without Philip’s help, then fell to work, feeling uncompromised satisfaction when I had succeeded in translating the first, despite the fact that it was, not surprisingly, a passage lauding Achilles.

That same afternoon Cécile came for tea, and we were in the midst of discussing plans to visit Versailles when Meg told me that Andrew was at the door. This was wholly unexpected. He had made a great point of going on at length about how the demands of his business affairs would allow him little time to see me. Not wanting him to realize that she and I were acquainted, Cécile hastened to my bedroom, where she left the door slightly ajar.

“Are you expecting someone?” Andrew asked, glancing at the tea table, which contained far too much food for only myself. I gave him my
hand, which he kissed with far more attention than I would have liked.

“I’ve just disposed of a most unwelcome guest,” I lied. “A French acquaintance with perfectly dreadful manners. I thought she would never leave.”

“I’m glad to have found you alone,” he said, sitting too close to me on the settee. “I have some news that I’m afraid will be most distressing. I’ve just had a letter from our ambassador to Egypt. He wrote that he has learned that the Englishman rumored to be wandering about in the bush turned up in Cairo nearly a month ago. He was a missionary by the name of Thomas Tresham.”

I did not speak for several minutes, first, because I felt that it lent a certain credence to my position as widow with ambivalent feelings toward her husband. More important, I needed to control my anger. I had talked to Lord Lytton not four hours earlier. He had told me in no uncertain terms that it would be months before anything could be determined about Philip’s fate and that I should not count on ever receiving confirmation from Africa. Rumors, like the ones I had heard, had very little chance of being either proved or completely discounted.

“Philip is dead,” I said at last, matter-of-factly.

“Yes, my dear, he is.” I had no doubt that on this point he was telling the truth. Although this was not entirely a surprise, hearing the words spoken made me feel as if I had received a violent blow. There was no small hope left to which I could cling. I had been led to believe that my husband was alive because it furthered Andrew’s plans, whatever they had been. Now that he believed he might have a chance at marrying me, it served his purpose to leave Philip dead. I wanted to sob, to mourn again the man whose love I had never appreciated, but knew that I could not do so at present. Instead I raised my head slowly, looked at Andrew, and smiled.

“Will you think me very bad if I tell you that I am most relieved?” As I said this, I could not help but remember that relief was in fact the emotion I had felt when I had originally learned that my husband was dead.

“I understand your reasons completely,” he assured me, taking my hand in his. “You have already mourned him once, Emily. You need not feel further obligation to such a man.”

“Yes, such a man,” I said, wondering at the ease with which Andrew disparaged his friend. “I am glad you were the one to tell me, Andrew. I’m afraid I find myself most obligated to you.”

“You owe me nothing,” he said, looking at me in a most unnerving fashion. Clearly he felt I owed him everything. I did not like how close he was to me, and I rose from my seat.

“I must turn again to Balzac. ‘When women love us, they forgive us everything, even our crimes; when they do not love us, they give us credit for nothing, not even our virtues.’ I have been guilty of overlooking your true character, Andrew. My misguided love for Philip kept me from seeing it.”

“Do you credit me my virtues now, Emily?” he asked, walking toward me. I backed away.

“I believe I do, Andrew,” I said, almost whispering, trying to ignore an overwhelming feeling of nausea. “When I think of the opportunities I have thrown away…” I let my voice trail off and daintily placed a hand on my forehead. “I think I shall make plans to visit Margaret in America as soon as possible. Traveling always makes it easier to forget.” My head still lowered, I raised my eyes to look at him. His expression brought to mind a hunter readying to fire at his prey.

“I did not plan to give you this so soon,” he said, removing something from his coat pocket. “I needed more time—” He stopped abruptly. “But perhaps it is best that you have it now, if you will agree to accept it.”

I took the small parcel he presented to me, knowing full well what I would find when I opened it: Monsieur Fournier’s lovely ring.

“Oh, Andrew! How did you ever persuade Monsieur Fournier to part with it?” I gushed, hoping I looked appropriately awestruck.

“I can claim no great skill in the matter. He sold it to a dealer several months ago. All I had to do was track it down. Dare I hope that you will take it?”

“I don’t know how I could refuse,” I said, slipping the ring onto my finger.

“Of course,” he said, pausing, smiling in his most devilish manner, “you cannot expect to have it for nothing.” I laughed nervously, recalling a time when I had taken great pleasure in that smile.

“Are you going to beg another kiss?”

“No, Emily, I will not be satisfied so easily. I want you to be my wife.”

I had expected this and knew how I must respond, but the thought of entering into any arrangement with this man, even a false and temporary one, revolted me.

“Marry you, Andrew?”

“You said only three days ago that you would marry the first man who could present you with this ring.”

“Surely you didn’t think I was serious?” I was not going to allow him to get his way so easily.

“As you can see, I did,” he said. I saw anger begin to cloud his good humor. “I assure you I wouldn’t have gone to such lengths to satisfy you if I did not.” I let him stand there, stupidly, for a moment before replying, watching him wonder whether he was going to succeed in getting my fortune.

“I had little hope that you would renew your suit after having been so abominably refused,” I said coyly.

“Did you think my feelings so fickle?”

“I feared you would despise me after you learned what I know about Philip and how I have hidden the facts.”

“I would forgive you anything, even your crimes,” he said, smiling once more.

“Again, you tell me news that brings me great relief,” I said, looking at the ring and twisting it anxiously on my finger. “I would like very much to keep the ring.”

I let my eyes meet his and smiled demurely, tacitly accepting his odious proposal. He took me forcefully by the shoulders and kissed me hard
on the lips. I could barely keep myself from pushing him away. Happily, he did not pursue the endeavor for long, stepping back from me and sitting down.

“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 S
EPTEMBER
1888
B
ERKELEY
S
QUARE,
L
ONDON

B
EFORE 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.

I paid little attention to what Monsieur Fournier said as we admired all that we saw until we came to a case made of highly polished wood. It contained piece after piece of the most exquisite ancient jewelry, artfully displayed on a background of rich purple velvet. There were several spaces within the cabinet where objects were obviously missing. It was time for me to begin.

“I see that not everything has been left safely in its case,” I said, smiling. “Your wife must be adorned in a way that would make fair Helen jealous.”

“Unfortunately, I have fallen victim to the cat burglar,” Monsieur Fournier replied. “The pieces were stolen several nights ago. The police
believe that the thief lowered himself from the roof to one of my gallery’s windows.”

“How dreadful!” I cried. “I remember very well the beautiful ring you were wearing at Mr. Bennett’s earlier in the fall.” Andrew glared at me; I looked at him with innocent eyes. “It is neither in the case nor on your hand. I do hope it was not stolen.”

“It was, Lady Ashton.”

As he spoke, I worked the wedding band Philip had given me off my left hand and let it fall, the gold clinking loudly as it hit the marble floor. Andrew immediately dove to the ground in search of it, nearly knocking over Lady Lytton in the process.

“Goodness, Mr. Palmer!” Lady Lytton exclaimed. “Why must you move with such rapidity? There is no danger that whatever Lady Ashton dropped would be lost here.”

“I do not think that is what concerned Mr. Palmer,” I said, stepping toward Lord Lytton. Andrew rose to his feet and handed me my ring. “I believe he thought I dropped something else.” I pulled Monsieur Fournier’s ring out of my bag. “Were you looking for this, Andrew?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about. What ring is that?”

“Monsieur Fournier’s Trojan-horse ring, of course. The one you stole for me in an attempt to secure my affections.” Andrew looked entirely nonplussed, smiled, and turned to Monsieur Fournier.

“The poor girl doesn’t know what she is saying. Is that something from your husband’s collection, Emily?”

“No. As you well know, it’s from Monsieur Fournier’s.” Andrew laughed; Monsieur Fournier’s eyes fixed on the ring in my hand.

“I’m afraid she is trying to protect the memory of her husband, who had an unfortunate habit of stealing antiquities.”

“Are you suggesting, Mr. Palmer, that the Viscount Ashton stole this ring?” Lord Lytton asked. Andrew made no attempt to answer the question.

I handed Monsieur Fournier his ring. “Is this yours?” I asked.

He examined it methodically for a moment before nodding. “It is one of the pieces that was stolen from me,” he said.

“Mr. Palmer presented it to me several days ago after having proposed marriage.”

“I assure you I did not take it,” Andrew said, the edge returning to his voice. “I was foolish enough to propose, but I did not give her the ring.”

“Cécile du Lac witnessed the entire exchange. Would you care to enlighten these gentlemen regarding the relationship you have with her? I’m sure Lord Lytton would be particularly interested in your plans for the Elgin Marbles.”

“You forget that the Elgin Marbles are safely in the British Museum, Lady Ashton. Again, I refer you to your own husband’s crimes. Perhaps you are confusing him with me. Or are you trying to blame his wrongdoings on me?”

“Madame du Lac spoke with me this morning about the meeting you had with her,” Lord Lytton interrupted. “It would appear you have quite a bit of explaining to do, Mr. Palmer.”

“I would like to know how you came to give my ring to Lady Ashton,” Monsieur Fournier said forcefully. “Did you steal it yourself or hire someone to do it for you?”

“Given the short period of time in which he needed to acquire it, I imagine that he took it himself,” I said. “Although I confess I am somewhat shocked that he is clever enough to have pulled it off. I heard every word of your meeting with Madame du Lac, Andrew, and was devastated to learn of your true character. I quickly realized that greed motivated you above all else, and I knew that the lure of my fortune would be too much for you to resist. I suggested that you find Monsieur Fournier’s ring for me, knowing full well you would do anything you thought might induce me to marry you.”

Andrew looked like a man who was slowly beginning to realize that his plans had been thwarted. Anger clouded his eyes, his expression similar to the one I had seen after refusing his first proposal of marriage.

“I admit to stealing the ring. It was the foolish action of a man in love. But it was an isolated incident.”

“It was nothing of the sort,” I said with conviction. “Aside from the evidence you have already provided for us during your conversation with Madame du Lac, do not forget that I am in possession of all of my husband’s records.”

“You said you burned them.”

“And you said that you confronted him about his illegal activities. Both of us lied. Philip kept meticulous track of your own involvement in the forgeries.”

“Aren’t you a clever girl, Emily? I underestimated you,” he said, crossing his arms and methodically tapping his fingers against them. “But why would anyone believe what Ashton wrote? His character will not stand up to scrutiny.”

“I find it interesting that when faced with evidence, you attempt to discredit the source rather than proclaim your own innocence. Whatever Philip’s faults, he was not a criminal.” I hoped this was true. If it was not, I fully expected that Andrew would quickly blame everything on his accomplice. “I must admit it surprises me to learn that you managed to orchestrate such an extraordinary series of thefts; I would not have thought you capable of pulling it off.”

He bristled visibly at this comment. “I will not respond to such preposterous accusations,” Andrew snapped, his cold eyes fixed on me.

“And I, Mr. Palmer, have heard quite enough,” Lord Lytton said, motioning to Monsieur Fournier, who pulled a bell cord.

The two gendarmes I had arranged to have waiting in the house entered the room and bound Andrew’s hands. “You are under arrest for having stolen Monsieur Fournier’s ring. Do not doubt that further charges will be filed. Madame du Lac’s testimony was quite compelling.”