It was a touching declaration, one with some ring of truth.
“I imagine these gentlemen gave you a more comfortable living than one of an itinerant actress,” I said with understanding.
Signora Ruggeri shook her head, bitterness in her voice. “You do not know. You cannot know. No gentleman can.”
“I agree with you. I recall how much Marianne struggled before she became Mrs. Grenville. It is a difficult life for ladies who have no family to surround them.”
“You are trying to be kind.” Signora Ruggeri softened again, her change of emotions lightning swift. “But I am correct that you can never understand. We do whatever we must to survive. All of us, every woman in this room, take on different personas, depending on what we need.”
I glanced at Donata, her face lighting with laughter at whatever wit the poet was throwing at her.
“Except for my wife,” I said fondly. “She will be the same whether in finery or a chemise.”
I flushed at the last, my tongue getting the better of me, but Signora Ruggeri regarded me pityingly.
“Never believe it. Your wife might be an aristocrat, but trust me, she will change herself, depending on who she’s with.”
I did not agree, but I ceased arguing. Donata might have dissembled in the past, but by the time I’d met her, she’d learned to always be herself and let the world believe what they wished. I was still never certain why she’d decided to throw in her lot with me.
“I mean no censure for your choices,” I said. “I only wonder how you came across Signor Gallo, and why you decided to help him in his blackmailing scheme.”
Signora Ruggeri started to her feet in alarm. “You insult me, sir.” The words rang out, her faux-Italian accent in place once more. “I shall have you turned out of this house.”
“Sit down,” I commanded, not moving.
No one in the room turned at this display, every one of them more interested in Grenville, Donata, and themselves than in a little-known actress losing her temper at the window.
Signora Ruggeri noted their indifference and plopped sullenly to the chair again.
“I truly wish to help you, signora,” I said. “I agree that you are in danger, but you must be truthful with me if I am to assist.”
“You’ll run to the beaks.” She again reverted to the speech of her native city. “To the gendarmerie. I know you’re mates with them.”
“Hardly that. I’m more concerned with Gallo’s victims at the moment, because Captain Vernet might come across their letters, or whatever Gallo had, in the course of his investigation. We found a few things in Gallo’s rooms, but there must be more. Did he entrust them to you?”
“He did.”
Her answer surprised me, but I strove not to betray my reaction. “That is good news. If you will give them to me, I can destroy the papers and save many people much trouble. If you wish to protect yourself, you will let me do so, and be free of the web Gallo wove.”
“It’s not that simple.” Signora Ruggeri regarded me limply. “He did hide his things at the house where I stayed when I first came here, the one the comte let me use in the Presqu’île. But they ain’t there now. I looked. As soon as I knew Gallo was dead, I went back to that house to find them, to destroy every paper, to ensure no one was harmed by them.” Her eyes moved sideways as she spoke, telling me her intentions had not necessarily been as pure as she claimed. “But they were gone. Every single last letter and document. Vanished utterly.”
I did not necessarily take Signora Ruggeri’s word for the disappearance of the papers Gallo had hoarded. She was an accomplished deceiver. However, she’d spoken with frustration, so I did not dismiss her claim entirely.
I let Signora Ruggeri be after that, assuring her I had no interest in exposing her true identity—most in this room would likely already know it, in any case. I also advised her not to sit with her back to an exposed window if she feared for her life.
Startled, she allowed me to escort her to a chair on the other side of the room, where I procured a brandy for her. I then joined Marianne, who presented her friends to me. None had much interest in me beyond the fact that Donata and Grenville championed me, but they were polite.
Signora Ruggeri had not revealed to me exactly why she thought she was in danger, but if she truly had been assisting Gallo, then she was right to be cautious. Gallo’s victims might believe, as I had, that Signora Ruggeri knew where the papers lay and might make use of them herself.
Signora Ruggeri remained quietly in the corner as the soiree wound on, but I made my excuses and departed, wanting to retire after another day jaunting across Lyon.
To my surprise, Donata accompanied me home, sitting next to me in the hired coach. Grenville had remained with Marianne, ready to continue the evening’s entertainments.
“The amusements of this city are soon taken in,” Donata said as we rolled from the Croix-Rousse toward the river. “Especially this late in the Season. It is a fine place, but has nothing on London or Paris.” She dismissed the passing scenery with a wave of her hand.
“The quiet suits me,” I said.
“And sometimes suits me.” Donata rested her head on my shoulder. “When we are in Oxfordshire or at the Breckenridge estate, I do keep earlier hours, as you know.”
