Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Author’s Note
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CHAPTER ONE
Paris, France 1776
Avers moved through the candlelight of Madame Pertuis’ salon, the warm glow catching on the silver of his suit’s embroidery and the diamonds at his throat. Ostentatious rococo mouldings and gilt furniture, designed to awe visitors, did not attract a second glance from him. Conversation hummed throughout the rooms—snippets of French, Italian and English catching his ear.
The Hôtel du Champions and its famous hostess attracted everyone of consequence in Parisian Society. Avers had secured his invitation after barely a week in the French capital thanks to his friend Wakeford. Now he was here, mingling with those who wished to discuss the latest writings of Marie-Emilie Maryon de Montanclos, and of course those who did not come for philosophy at all, but rather to discover the latest on dit. For those who held a penchant for neither of these activities, several gaming tables were set up in an adjacent room, many already in use.
“Bonsoir, Your Grace. How fortunate we are to have you with us this evening.”
Avers paused before his hostess. She had used his assumed title. Good. His fake identity was working. Leaning back on one leg and allowing the other, with its beautifully clocked stocking, to be displayed to full advantage, he met the gaze of his salonnière.
“Madame Pertuis, I am the fortunate one. I can only beg forgiveness for missing the meal. I was at a game that could not be stopped.”
“Ah, the cards,” replied the handsome woman, chiding him as she would a child. “All men are the same.”
“Alas, so we are, and I thank you for your gracious mercy in allowing me to attend all the later. I had not expected such a warm reception here in Paris.” Avers examined the beautifully embroidered cuffs of his sapphire-blue suit. “Clearly news of my exploits in Italy have yet to reach your fine ears.”
They had an audience.
A coterie of ladies on a nearby collection of brocade sofas had ceased their discourse in favour of watching the new arrival speaking to their host. Avers could not have hoped for a better opportunity to lay out the part he was to play.
