“I don’t care if you ever come back,” she said rashly.
His countenance hardened. “Nevertheless, when I return, we will continue our discussion.”
“There is nothing left to discuss. Our marriage is over,” she said in a suffocated voice. “You are dead to me.”
Lines bracketed his mouth. His gaze smoldering like a forge, he looked as if he might say something. A heartbeat later, he turned and walked out.
Charlie awakened feeling like she hadn’t slept at all.
She was in bed, dressed in the same clothes she’d worn before Sebastian left. She hadn’t wanted to see the maid—to see anyone. She wanted to be left alone with her misery.
She’d gotten her wish. The light slanting through the shutters indicated that it was morning, and her temples throbbed from hours of crying. To no surprise, the place next to her was empty.
He is with Eleni. Probably bedding her right now.
Charlie squeezed her eyes, as if she could shut out the vision. She was done crying over her husband. Before him, she’d been a sensible woman, one in control of her emotions. She had to get back to who she’d been. The pragmatic survivor who always had a plan.
She went to the balcony for some air. The villa was set atop a hill dotted with stucco abodes, the sunrise gilding the terracotta roofs and setting the bougainvillea afire. The vibrant coral and pink sky competed with the rolling azure waves for brilliance.
What am I going to do?She stared at the sea, which looked calm but could suck a woman under.I have no money or power to petition for a divorce.If I leave Sebastian, where will I go—how will I survive?
She had no answer to the practical questions, let alone how to deal with her shattered heart.
“My lady?” Though quiet, the housekeeper’s voice startled her.
Wiping the backs of her hands over her wet cheeks, Charlie turned. “I beg your pardon, Sophia. I didn’t hear you come in…”
She trailed off when she saw the shock etched into the housekeeper’s weathered face.
Her heart thumping, she asked, “What is the matter?”
“News just came from the village, my lady. It’s…it’s the master?—”
“Is he all right?” Charlie had to force the words through her numb lips.
“A taverna caught fire before dawn.” The housekeeper twisted her apron in her veined hands. “It had closed. Everyone was gone, except for the proprietress, Mrs. Pappas and…and Lord Fayne. They must have… They must have been asleep. The two of them, they did not make it out. I am so sorry…”
The edges of Charlie’s vision fluttered, her own words ringing in her ears.
Our marriage is over. You are dead to me.
“Sebastian,” she whispered.
Her knees buckled, and she was weeping as she fell.
One
Twelve Years Later
The Honorable Francis Devlin braced a hand on the wall next to Lady Charlotte Fayne’s shoulder. Framed by his mask, Devlin’s blue eyes had a devilish glint as he leaned toward her. Charlie maintained an inviting posture as he traced the edge of her golden mask with his fingertip. She was dressed as Cleopatra. Her wig styledà l’Égyptienneand white tunic provided additional camouflage.
“Why don’t we have some fun,chérie?” he said with a creditable French accent.
“Aren’t we doing that now, my dear sir?”
Although she shaped her lips into a coy smile for the benefit of anyone watching, Charlie gave her employee a warning look as his touch traveled lower, following the slope of her jaw. For the evening’s mission, she and Devlin were pretending to be strangers meeting at this sprawling mansion tucked away in Hamstead Heath. The host, Ellsworth Rigby, had amassed a fortune through import-export and investments and was rumored to be richer than Croesus. His wealth afforded him and his wife Isadora the freedom to carry on as they pleased. At their masquerades, it was rumored, anything could—and did—happen.
The Rigbys’ guest list included celebrated artists, louche bluebloods, and everyone in between. A propensity for salaciousness appeared to be the main requirement to gain entrée. The partygoers sported costumes to conceal their identities (or sometimes to flaunt them—as in the case of an opera singer whose famed twin assets were on full display in her sheer Grecian tunic). A secret phrase was required to gain entry; through her sources, Charlie had learned that tonight’s was “Shakespeare’s Brave New World.”
