* * *
Geoffrey was like a playful puppy, ranging ahead, then back to point out items of particular interest. The Aubynwood gardens had developed over centuries and included everything from herb and knot gardens to a maze. It was the maze that Geoffrey led her to. “Cheslow, the head gardener, says our maze is the best in England,” he said proudly. “Even better than the one at Hampton Court.”
For a moment his identification of “our” maze stabbed her. It belonged to her husband and would someday be her son’s, but there was no place for Diana at Aubynwood. She had belonged more truly as a mistress than as a wife.
She put her self-pitying thought aside. “Did Cheslow say how old the maze is?”
“It was planted in the time of Queen Elizabeth. The outside is a perfect square, but inside is all tangled. There is one route to the center, and another, shorter one leads out. Did you know that you can find your way through a maze by keeping your hand on the left wall, and always taking the left turning? Or you can go to the right,” he added conscientiously. “As long as you always turn the same way.”
“No, really?” she said with interest. She thought about it for a moment. “I see. One would have to go down all the blind alleys and doublings-back, but there would be no chance of getting lost and eventually one would get through. Rather like the tortoise and the hare.”
They were at the maze entrance now and it was undeniably a fine sight. The yew bushes were incredibly dense, clipped with mathematical precision and towering well above a man’s head. The entry was flanked by a Greek god and goddess who seemed up to no good. Diana recalled reading that ancient mazes were associated with fertility, which explained the anticipation on Apollo’s face. “Have you been through the maze before?”
“Oh, yes, lots of times.” Geoffrey’s eyes lit up. “Would you like to try to catch me inside?”
She chuckled. “You want to take advantage of my ignorance.”
He nodded mischievously. “Very well,” she said with mock resignation. “Make a fool of your mother. But if I can’t find my way out, you have to come back and rescue me.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll wait in the center till you find me, so I can guide you out,” he offered magnanimously. Then he raced into the maze, giving one squeal of delight before remembering that his cries would give away his location.
Diana decided to give him a one-minute head start and began counting while she studied the statues more closely. They appeared to be original. Just another pair of priceless Aubynwood baubles.
Absorbed in her thoughts, she didn’t hear the quiet footfalls on the grass or realize that she was not alone until her bare neck was stroked by a large male hand. She froze, knowing instantly that it was not Gervase who touched her.
Pivoting away from the interloper, she found herself face-to-face with the Count de Veseul. He was dressed all in black and looked so nonchalant, so elegantly evil, that a bolt of panic ran through her.
She reminded herself that she was the mistress of Aubynwood now, not a demirep. Surely he would not dare assault her. In her most aristocratic manner, she said, “Good evening,Monsieur le Comte.You are not dining with the others?”
“I shall join them soon,” he said lazily, “but I saw you walking in this direction and decided to pay my respects since I must leave in the morning.”
“What a pity. I trust you have enjoyed your visit here,” Diana said politely as she tried to edge away. He was standing too close for comfort.
“The best part is yet to come.” Lifting his cane, he pressed the golden serpent’s head against her cheek. It was warm from the heat of his hand.
Jerking back, she snapped, “Monsieur,you take unacceptable liberties! Do not do so again.”
“I shall do whatever I wish.” He laughed with gentle amusement, his dark eyes a fierce contrast to his languid tone. “I will now take what I have desired since the first moment I saw you at the theater. You are a work of art,ma petite,and great art should not be kept for the pleasure of only one man.”
In the face of his unmistakable meaning, she stepped back again, beginning to be frightened. “My husband would not appreciate your impertinence any more than I do,” she said sharply. “If you do not leave immediately, I shall tell him of your outrageous behavior. A wise man would not wish to incur St. Aubyn’s displeasure.”
“You will tell him nothing,ma petite.” The civilized mask began slipping. “I will take my pleasure of you, and when I am done, no one else shall ever have you again.”
His hand shot out to grasp her shoulder at the base of her neck, his thumb stroking her throat with threatening pressure as he raised the cane with his other hand. The underlying evil she sensed was fully visible now. She had no doubt that he was capable of raping and murdering her, then joining the other guests for a blithe dinner.
That thought was instantly followed by the horrific realization that if Geoffrey returned to find what delayed his mother, he would be murdered, too. Forcing down her panic, Diana yanked herself free of Veseul’s hand. She couldn’t outrun him across the grassy lawn, and he was so close that if she reached for her knife he could easily disarm her.
She gave one piercing scream, hoping someone might be near, then whirled and darted into the maze.
* * *
Gervase circulated among his guests, using his host’s duties to avoid getting into lengthy conversations. He noted that Veseul was missing from the crowd. The fellow had sent a graceful note apologizing for the fact that he must leave in the morning. Gervase would have said good riddance, except that he had made no progress toward exposing the treachery of which he suspected the Frenchman.
Over the last few days Veseul’s sociability had had a smug quality, as if he knew that he was under suspicion, and was thumbing his nose at the man who wanted to expose him. At times like this, Gervase could see the appeal of the French police state; it would be pleasant just to throw Veseul into prison. In Britain, however, that wasn’t feasible, especially not when the suspect was wealthy and well-connected.
He smiled automatically at Mrs. Oliphant, who was saying that she hoped dear Lady St. Aubyn was feeling better. Such a lovely young woman. Murmuring something suitable, he made his escape as quickly as possible.
Gervase was grateful that his wife was keeping out of his way. His decision to give her an annulment was the wisest course, but if he saw her again it would be very difficult to hold to his resolution.
