Page 78 (1/2)

Chapter One

Leicester, November, 1863

ROBERT BLAISDELL, THE NINTH DUKE OF CLERMONT, was not hiding

True, he’d retreated to the upstairs library of the old Guildhall, far enough from the crowd below that the noise of the ensemble had faded to a distant rumble True, nobody else was about Also true: He stood behind thick curtains of blue-gray velvet, which shielded him from view And he’d had to et there

But he’d done all that not to hide himself, but because—and this was a key point in his rather specious train of logic—in this centuries-old structure of plaster and timberwork, only one of the panes in the s opened, and that happened to be the one secreted behind the sofa

So here he stood, cigarillo in hand, the s; it was si books from fumes

He ht even have believed himself, if only he smoked

Still, through the wavy panes of aging glass, he could make out the darkened stone of the church directly across the way La shadows on the paveainst the doors, but an autumn breeze had picked the them into puddles

He was lorious arillo against theopening, sending ashes twirling to the paving stones below

The quiet creak of a door opening startled hi scritch of floorboards So rooht—a woman’s, perhaps, or a child’s They were also curiously hesitant Most people who made their way to the library in the midst of a , perhaps, or a search for afamily member

Froe point behind the curtains, Robert could only see a s hesitantly She was out of sight—somehoas sure that she was a wo fall of her feet, pausing every so often as if to exas

She didn’t call out a name or make a deter for a hidden lover Instead, her footsteps circled the perimeter of the room

It took Robert half ato announce hi out fro the plaster Very evenly laid back there, did you know?”

She would think he was mad And so far, nobody yet had co, he dropped his cigarillo out theIt tu, until it landed in a puddle and extinguished itself

All he could see of the room was a half-shelf of books, the back of the sofa, and a table next to it on which a chess set had been laid out The garess; fro Whoever it was drew nearer, and Robert shrank back against the

She crossed into his field of vision

She wasn’t one of the young ladies he’d met in the crowded hall earlier Those had all been beauties, hoping to catch his eye And she—whoever she as not a beauty Her dark hair ept into a no-nonsense knot at the back of her neck Her lips were thin and her nose was sharp and a bit on the long side She was dressed in a dark blue gown trimmed in ivory—no lace, no ribbons, just siown bordered on the severe side: waist pulled in so tightly he wondered how she could breathe, sleevesfrom her shoulders to her wrists without an inch of excess fabric to soften the picture

She didn’t see Robert standing behind the curtain She had set her head to one side and was eyeing the chess set the way a ht look at a cask of brandy: as if it were an evil to be sta that, with martial law