“But Ashmun never mentioned Gavin in our meeting!” she exclaimed.
“You never gave him a chance.” Saybrook let out a wry sigh. “If you recall, you cut him off when he began his warning, so he assumed you knew about Gavin, as well as Cockburn.”
At the reminder of her impatience, and how many mistakes she had made, Arianna winced. “Lord, what a bloody fool I’ve been. You were right about Concord. If I hadn’t been so blinded by my own assumptions, I might have listened to you . . . I might have remembered that Father had been friends with Cockburn. It only came back to me tonight.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” murmured Saybrook. “It is easy to look at others with a dispassionate eye. You saw me submerged in self-pity, and if you hadn’t so kindly pointed out my faults, we never would have triumphed over these devils.”
“Kindly?” A laugh slipped from her lips. “I’m surprised you didn’t murder me on the spot.”
“And lose your chocolate knowledge?” He tucked the carriage blanket over her lap. “Perish the thought.”
She settled a little closer to him, savoring the woolly softness of his coat against her cheek. But a sudden lurch of the wheels jarred her from such momentary reveries. “You know, I feel guilty that Mr. Henning and his men must wait in the cold for another conveyance. They could have squeezed in—”
“Don’t worry about Baz. He is extremely resourceful,” said the earl. “With any luck, he and his ruffians will hijack Grentham’s barouche. And then deposit it in the foulest stretch of the river once they reach London.”
“You don’t like Grentham.”
“No,” he answered tersely. “I don’t.”
It seemed a very visceral reaction, and Arianna wondered why. “Is there a reason?”
Ignoring the question, he shifted against the tufted leather. “Speaking of resourceful, Lady Arianna, we must decide on a strategy for the future, and quickly. The government will never admit to what really happened. The scandal would have dangerous repercussions both at home and abroad.”
She straightened slightly.
“So that leaves you somewhere in Purgatory. Grentham has agreed not to arrest you for Crandall’s demise. But he is also adamant that you cannot reappear in Society as Lady Arianna Hadley. It would provoke too many awkward questions.”
And so I must leave England once again.
Arianna gave a halfhearted shrug. “I am used to being an exile.”
“That is not fair,” he growled.
“Life is often unfair.” She watched a curl of smoke twist within the brass-framed glass of the carriage light. “Grentham is right. There really isn’t any alternative.”
“Actually, there is.”
She suddenly felt very, very sleepy, and uninterested in talking about the future. “What?” she murmured, patting back a yawn.
Saybrook hesitated.
“I hope you aren’t going to suggest that we do away with the minister. I’ve had quite enough shocks for one night.”
“Have you?” The earl’s voice had an oddly wry note to it. “Try to endure one more.”
Arianna sat up a little straighter. He now had her full attention.
“What I propose is . . . marriage.”
“Marriage,” she repeated faintly, unsure if she had heard him correctly.
“It is an eminently practical solution,” he went on. “A new name solves the conundrum of your past. I wed the wealthy widow and the tangle of your previous identities no longer matters. Richard Hadley’s daughter disappeared long ago. Her existence is all but forgotten.”
“You are not honor-bound to sacrifice your future for me, sir,” said Arianna. “There are ballrooms full of rich, mannered young ladies who would eagerly accept the invitation to become the Countess of Saybrook.”
“Perhaps, but as you have so kindly pointed out to me, they tend to be bland and boring. I find that’s not to my taste.” His gaze met hers. “You cannot deny that we have much in common. We are both outcasts of a sort. Unconventional individuals who share similar interests.”
Damn the dark fringe of lashes, thought Arianna. The shadows hid his eyes.
“There is no reason why it can’t work,” he finished.
Unlike mathematics, emotions didn’t always add up quite so neatly.
“I . . .”
“You don’t have to answer right now,” he said. “Think it over for the night.”
“I . . . I shall.”
A smile teased at the corners of his mouth. “Do keep in mind Dona Maria’s diaries. They hold a promise that a future together could be sweet.”
Arianna imagined the taste of fire-warmed butter and sugar melting with swirls of dark chocolate. Revenge had left naught but a bitter taste in her mouth.
Sweet.
The offer was awfully tempting. . . .
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Derivatives, debt-equity swaps, margin calls, stock crashes—our modern-day financial swindles and booms are nothing new. Both the South Sea Bubble and the Mississippi Bubble mentioned in Sweet Revenge are actual historical events that took place in the early part of the eighteenth century, and had grave economic repercussions for both England and France. I won’t try to sum up the complex details here—for those of you interested in learning more, there are a number of excellent books on the subject, including A Very English Deceit: The Secret History of the South Sea Bubble and the First Great Financial Scandal by Malcolm Balen and The First Crash: Lessons from the South Sea Bubble by Richard Dale.
Though modeled on the original South Sea Company, my own New World Trading Company is pure fiction. But given current events in 1813, it could, with a bit of imagination, have been plausible. Despite his retreat from Russia during the previous winter, Napoleon still controlled most of Europe, including Spain. But under the leadership of Wellington, the British forces were making headway in the Peninsula, further threatening his aura of invincibility. As the Emperor rebuilt his army, and looked once again to conquer any opposition in Eastern Europe, he might well have granted trade concessions to anyone who could throw England—the lynchpin to a new alliance against him—into chaos. After all, he was notorious for passing out kingdoms and princely riches to his family and friends in reward for service to France.
And lastly, a morsel of history about chocolate! Some may take issue with seeing edible chocolate mentioned at this time in history. However, my research has turned up proof that chocolate was indeed served up in solid form. Sulpice Debauve, pharmacist to King Louis XVI, opened a chocolate shop on the Left Bank of Paris in 1800. By 1804, he had over sixty shops throughout France. Debauve & Gallais Chocolates still exists today, and though its bonbons are sinfully expensive, they are sinfully good. (Ah, the hardships of research!) You may visit their Web site at www.debauveandgallais.com.
I hope you have enjoyed the history behind Sweet Revenge. For more fun facts and arcane trivia, please visit my Web site at www.andreapenrose.com. I love to hear from my readers and can be contacted at andrea@andreapenrose.com.