Sweet Revenge Part 18

1 teaspoon baking soda

teaspoon salt

1 stick unsalted b.u.t.ter, softened, plus 2 tablespoons,

melted and cooled

1 cup sugar, divided

2 large eggs

1 cup mashed very ripe bananas (about 3 medium)

cup plain whole-milk yogurt

1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

1 (3- to 4-ounce) bar 70% cacao bittersweet

chocolate, coa.r.s.ely chopped

1 cup walnuts, toasted, cooled, and coa.r.s.ely chopped

teaspoon cinnamon

1. Preheat oven to 375F with rack in middle. b.u.t.ter a 9-inch-square cake pan.

2. Stir together flour, baking soda, and salt.

3. Beat together softened b.u.t.ter (1 stick) and cup sugar in a medium bowl with an electric mixer at medium speed until pale and fluffy, then beat in eggs 1 at a time until blended. Beat in bananas, yogurt, and vanilla (mixture will look curdled).

4. With mixer at low speed, add flour mixture and mix until just incorporated.

5. Toss together chocolate, nuts, cinnamon, melted b.u.t.ter, and remaining cup sugar in a small bowl. Spread half of banana batter in cake pan and sprinkle with half of chocolate mixture. Spread remaining batter evenly over filling and sprinkle remaining chocolate mixture on top.

6. Bake until cake is golden and a wooden pick inserted in center of cake comes out clean, 35 to 40 minutes. Cool cake in pan on a rack 30 minutes, then turn out onto rack and cool completely.

Propelled by the crescendoing music, the ladies around her whirled faster and faster, their laughter echoing the capering notes of the violins.

Closing her eyes for an instant, Arianna tried to bring her skeetering emotions under control. Now that the time for snaking off to Concord's party was drawing near, her heart was beating so loudly that it nearly drowned out the music.

"The waltz is exhilarating, is it not, Lady Wolcott?" remarked Sir Leete, dabbing a sleeve to his brow. His protruding belly and beet-red face seemed to signal that he rarely indulged in anything more strenuous than lifting a fork.

"Quite," replied Arianna, grateful that the dance excused the breathless. .h.i.tch of her voice. Beads of sweat trickled beneath the laces of her corset, teasing a flare of fire to every tiny nerve ending.

"Might I fetch you a gla.s.s of ratafia punch?"

"Yes, thank you." She turned, angling her gaze across the crowded room. One, two, three . . . There, in the fourth arch of the colonnading, stood Concord and several of his friends. Catching her eye, he nodded ever so slightly, a signal so subtle that she would have missed it if she hadn't been expecting it.

A moment later, the men were gone, leaving naught but a smudge of shadows between the white marble columns.

Dark and light. Despite what she had said to Saybrook, Arianna felt a frisson of fear.

"May I take the liberty of inquiring as to how you are enjoying London, Lady Wolcott?"

A voice, uncomfortably close, jerked her thoughts back to the present moment.

"We were introduced at the Averills' soiree," continued the gentleman, who was now standing by her side. "Though I daresay you don't remember."

"Yes, of course I do," said Arianna, covering her flinch with a polite smile. He looked vaguely familiar.

"You are too kind-I imagine you've met far too many strangers to keep all the names straight," he murmured. "I am Lord Ashmun."

"Thank you for your inquiry, Lord Ashmun. I am enjoying the city and its activities immensely," she answered. Now go away, she added to herself.

"I can't help but wonder," he went on. "Are you perchance related to the Wolcotts from Somerset?"

"No," responded Arianna, hoping the curt reply would discourage any further questions.

Ashmun didn't take the hint. "No?" he echoed. "Then are you from farther north?"

Something in his tone stirred a sense of unease. "My husband's family is from Yorks.h.i.+re, sir. The village is too small for anyone to recognize its name."

His hazel eyes narrowed, and his long nose seemed to quiver, like a bird dog looking to pick up a scent. "Oh, but having hunted in Yorks.h.i.+re, I am very well acquainted with the countryside."

"I doubt you are familiar with this particular place." She looked away, anxious to escape further interrogation. "Ah, there is Lord Leete with my drink. If you will excuse me . . ."

To her dismay, Ashmun followed. "Might I have the pleasure of taking you in to supper, Lady Wolcott? I should very much like the chance to converse with you-I believe we may have . . . mutual acquaintances."

"I think you must have me confused with someone else," said Arianna coolly, though her insides were starting to clench in alarm.

He sidled closer. "I-"

"My apologies for the delay, Lady Wolcott!" exclaimed Leete. "There was quite a crowd around the punch bowl."

Arianna heaved an inward sigh of relief. "Thank you," she said, accepting the gla.s.s and quickly raising it to her lips.

"Our hostess is renowned for her lobster patties and creamed quail." Ashmun was proving relentless in his pursuit. "Allow me to escort you to a table."

"Tempting," she replied. "But the last week has been awfully fatiguing, so I'm going to take my leave early. Good evening, gentlemen." Before either of them could reply, she turned and took her leave from the ballroom.

It was foolish to let her imagination run wild, she reminded herself. Her nerves were on edge, that was all. Lord Ashmun was simply a nosy old man, not a specter of impending danger.

Still, try as she might, Arianna couldn't shake the feeling that she had seen him somewhere other than last week's soiree. Had he been a guest at one of Lady Spencer's parties? He didn't seem the type.

But appearances could be deceiving.

Reminded of her own charade, Arianna forced her thoughts to the coming encounter.

Turning up the hood of her cloak, she stepped out into the night shadows and hurried to her waiting carriage. She must hide her jitters, mask her doubts . . .

Play her role.

"How delightful that you decided to join us, Lady Wolcott," called Gavin as she entered the drawing room of Concord's town house. "May I offer you a welcoming libation?" Detaching himself from a group of men by the hearth, he glided over to greet her. "It's a unique concoction, a specialty of the house, if you will."

"How can I resist?" The ornate goblet, made of spangled Murano gla.s.s, was filled with a dark garnet-red liquid. "I trust that it's more potent than the watery punch that was served at the earlier party."

"Much," a.s.sured Gavin. "Can you guess at some of the ingredients?"

"Something very sweet," she answered with a throaty purr. "Whatever it is, I like it."

"Ah, I see you have a palette for pleasure," he said. "The ingredients come from the Caribbean tropics."

"A world which is unfamiliar to me," said Arianna. "But I am looking to expand my horizons."

"You have chosen a good place to start," said Gavin smoothly.

Before she could reply, a voice interrupted their tete-a-tete.

"Now, now, Gav, don't be a naughty boy and try to keep our new guest all to yourself."

Arianna didn't need to turn around to recognize the chiding laugh.

"Do introduce us."

"But of course, my sweet." Gavin pulled back a touch, allowing Lady Spencer to come closer. "Allow me to present Lady Wolcott, who has just arrived in Town from-"

"A dreadfully dull little town in Yorks.h.i.+re." Arianna lowered her gaze. A liberal application of kohl had altered the shape of her eyes and darkened her lashes. And as a false mustache had always disguised the shape of her mouth and chin, she had no reason to fear that the other lady might see shades of the fugitive Monsieur Alphonse in her face.

"Oh, I a.s.sure you that London is never, ever dull," said Lady Spencer. "Especially if you know the right people."

"I am counting on that," replied Arianna.

"I have a feeling we are going to become very good friends." Her erstwhile employer flashed a conspiratorial wink and looped an arm through hers. "Come, let me show you some of our host's Eastern art collection while we get better acquainted."

Better acquainted? Arianna repressed the urge to laugh.

Waving off Gavin's offer to accompany them, Lady Spencer pursed her carefully colored lips. "No, no, no, I must insist on having a private interlude with Lady Wolcott. It's only fair that she be warned about the dangers of consorting with rogues like you."

Gavin smiled, showing a brief flash of teeth.

"I hope I am not frightening you with such talk, my dear."