Sweet Revenge Part 38

teaspoon ground cinnamon

1 tablespoon sugar

4 tablespoons cajeta (Mexican caramel)

4 tablespoons pecans, toasted and chopped

1. Put oven rack in middle position and preheat oven to 350F. b.u.t.ter 2 oven-safe bowls or ramekins.

2. Melt b.u.t.ter and chocolate in heavy saucepan over very low heat, stirring until smooth. Remove from heat and cool, stirring occasionally, 5 minutes. Whisk in egg yolk, salt, and ground cinnamon until combined. Beat egg white in a bowl with an electric mixer at medium-high speed until it holds soft peaks. Gradually add sugar, and continue to beat until white just holds stiff, glossy peaks. Whisk one-fourth of white into chocolate mixture to lighten, then fold remaining white gently but thoroughly.

3. Divide batter between bowls or ramekins. Cover each bowl with small squares of foil and crimp foil tightly around rim. Place a baking dish in oven and pour hot water (easiest with a teakettle) into dish. Carefully place ramekins into baking dish. Make sure foil is above water. Bake until puddings are set, about 30 minutes. The desserts will be slightly gooey to the touch.

4. Transfer bowls to a rack and cool puddings, uncovered, about 1 hour. Just before serving, unmold puddings into serving bowls or onto a plate. First, unmold desserts by taking a knife and running it along the edge of the ramekin. Second, place ramekins into a bowl with hot water for about 15 seconds. Turn ramekin upside down and tap bottom. Top each pudding with 2 tablespoons of cajeta and 2 tablespoons of the pecans.

Edging around the abandoned curricle, Saybrook peered through the wisps of fog. There was no sign of light, no stir of movement on the footpath up ahead. And beyond the dark archway, the hillside stood deathly still, the vague shapes of stone and foliage cloaked in a silvery shroud of vapor.

"Davy?" he whispered.

Leaves rustled as a figure emerged from the nearby bushes. "Here, sor."

"Good work with the lantern," murmured the earl. "The beacon proved easy to spot from afar."

The sailor bobbed his head. "The gent took the lady up through them gardens. Another cove was waiting at the entrance te some sort of tunnel. I thought it best te come back here and wait te tell you, rather than follow them inside."

"The right choice." Saybrook gave another glance into the gloom. "Stay here and wait for Henning and the others to arrive. Then bring them along." He checked his pockets for the oilskin pouch of lucifers. While he dared not relight the lantern, the phosphorous matchsticks would provide an occasional flame. "Remind Henning to move quickly but quietly-we must take them by surprise."

In a quicksilver flash, a thin blade cut through the gloom.

"I spent some time in India several years ago," said Gavin. "An interesting culture." Back and forth, back and forth, the point teased through the air just inches from her nose. "They have honed the art of extracting information from their enemies to a fine art."

Arianna dropped her gaze to the floor, unwilling to let him see her fear. That must be how he knew Kellton, she thought, concentrating on collecting the facts to keep herself calm.

"Don't be a fool, Lady Arianna," urged c.o.c.kburn. "We just need you to work out a stock offering template to show to our partner." He picked up the closest pile of papers. "Why don't you have a look before making a decision you will likely regret? We will pay you very well for your work."

"And if I do, you will let me go free?" she asked.

"But of course," replied c.o.c.kburn smoothly. "As I said, we are civilized gentlemen. Violence is only a means of last resort."

"Oh, yes, how very, very civilized," said Arianna. Strip away the fancy t.i.tle and tailoring and all that would be left is dung in silk stockings.

Gavin shot out a hand and seized her throat. "Mind your tongue, b.i.t.c.h, or I'll cut it out."

"Philip!" cried c.o.c.kburn.

The fingers slowly released.

"As you see, Lady Arianna, my partner is on edge. It would be best if you didn't trifle with us."

She sucked in a raw breath.

"She's just like her father," muttered Gavin. "Too b.l.o.o.d.y stubborn to see reason."

Oh, no. A sudden thought uncoiled like a serpent in her gut.

No, no, no.

"What do you mean?" she asked slowly.

"As we mentioned, we worked with Richard on a few enterprises before he left England," explained c.o.c.kburn.

"My father often mentioned Concord and Hamilton, but I don't recall him talking about you," she said, still fighting off the horrible suspicion that was slithering up from the pit of her stomach. "I wonder why?"

Gavin looked up from his blade. "Because generals don't mingle with their foot soldiers-unless there is the threat of mutiny in the ranks."

"Philip."

The warning came a split second too late. As Arianna watched Gavin's mouth twist into a bloodcurdling grin, she knew in her heart that Saybrook had guessed right-Concord and Hamilton were mere underlings. It was these two who were responsible for her father's murder.

The wind whistling through the shutters, the death rattle of her father's last breath . . .

All of a sudden, Arianna was no longer so resigned to death. She wanted very much to live.

Think, think. There had been times in the past when quick wits had been the key to her survival. St. Vincent, Isla la Tortuga, Grenada . . .

But here she was trapped deep underground with two ruthless men . . . her only ally, the Earl of Saybrook, had no idea where she was. . . .

How the devil was she going to dig herself out of this hole?

A faint whoosh, and a flare of weak light showed water up ahead. Saybrook noted the location of the bridge before the flame fizzled. The lucifers had allowed him to follow the trail of steps in the chalky dust, and while his supply was running low, he thought he could hear the sound of voices above the gurgling of the stream.

Easing a pistol from his pocket, he started forward.

"I told you she was going to be trouble." Gavin's blade swooshed in a lazy arc. "But don't worry. She will soon be begging to do the equations."

"I tried to warn you, Lady Arianna." c.o.c.kburn sighed and smoothed at the faultless folds of his cravat. "There really was no need for it to come to this."

"As I said, she's just like her father-willful, stubborn, and deaf to reason." Gavin touched the razored steel to Arianna's cheek and smiled darkly.

She didn't flinch.

The marquess turned away with a grunt of disgust. "I find the sight of blood so distasteful."

"While I, on the other hand, rather like the color crimson," answered Gavin. "What about you, Lady Arianna?"

Arianna ignored his question to ask one of her own. "You had my father killed, didn't you?"

"No, actually I didn't." His mouth stretched wider. "I did it myself."

Her pulse began to pound, the sudden rush of blood building to a deafening roar in her ears.

"So, what is your choice? Do you wish to be a fool and follow him to the grave?"

She held the air in her lungs, trying to bring her body under control. The array of blades was but a lunge away. If she moved quickly, an upward thrust would slice through his liver. . . .

Saybrook would say there was more at stake than personal vengeance.

To h.e.l.l with what the earl believed, she told herself. When had she cared for what anyone else thought?

And yet . . .

Gavin might die, and maybe c.o.c.kburn, if she were lucky enough to evade a bullet. But what about the other conspirators? The gentlemen of power and privilege who had betrayed principle for greed. For a plan of this magnitude, there had to be others involved. A better revenge would be to take them all down.

Her muscles unclenched and she slumped back in her chair.

Gavin saw the slight movement and sneered. "That is the first sign of sense from you yet, Lady Arianna. Thank G.o.d you did not try tears or pleas."

Their eyes locked.

"I have always thought that weeping or wailing is a waste of time," replied Arianna. Leaning back from the blade, she took several measured breaths. "What, exactly, is it that you want me to do?"

Leather sc.r.a.ped over stone as c.o.c.kburn pivoted on his heel and moved back to the table, his face once again wreathed in a smile. "I knew that you would see reason, once you had a moment to think about it."

"What choice do I have if I wish to live?" she countered. "The fact is, I've been forced to scrabble for my survival since I was a child. My father left me penniless and disgraced in Society, so it's not as if I owe his memory my blood." She shrugged. "I'm tired of fending for myself. A great deal of money would be welcome."

"What happened to your tender conscience?" said Gavin. He sounded a trifle disappointed at being deprived of his ghoulish games.

"I lied," she said coolly. "It was worth a try to bluff. I prefer to work alone. But I also believe in being pragmatic."

The answer didn't quite satisfy him. "Tell me, what were you doing with Concord?"

"Discussing business-and pleasure," replied Arianna. "I knew of him because of the connection with my father. I came to England six months ago, and as I'm not exactly welcome by the respectable members of my family, I decided to make myself known to him. He immediately saw the value of joining our talents." She gave an impatient wave. "But enough of the past. Tell me about your present plan."

"Yes," agreed c.o.c.kburn.

"And yet, Concord didn't look very amorous this evening," said Gavin slowly.

"He thought I was cheating on him in business," replied Arianna, quickly composing a lie. "I wasn't."

Like his exotic blades, Gavin's laugh had a nasty edge. "No, it was Kellton who was diddling him. They had partnered on a military contract, but it was a small deal. Kellton was going to pull out of it in several months after skimming off some of the advance money, and leave Concord in the lurch. Selling his services to us was far more profitable, and his expertise in s.h.i.+pping and bills of lading was useful to us in creating a model for false templates to be used on a far larger scale."

So that was the connection. Saybrook would find the information a key part to the puzzle of his own investigation, she thought.

a.s.suming, of course, that she lived to tell him about it.

Forcing her concentration back to the cat-and-mouse game with her captors, Arianna accepted the set of papers offered by c.o.c.kburn. "It's a moot point," she said, "seeing as Kellton had the bad luck to shuffle off his mortal coil in the middle of the deal."

"His Indian friends would call it bad karma." Gavin had backed off, but the scalpel was still in his hands, the sharpened steel tapping lightly against the pad of his thumb. "He panicked over a minor problem that occurred at Lady Spencer's residence, and was threatening to upset all our plans."

"Study the numbers, Lady Arianna," interjected c.o.c.kburn, who appeared eager to gloss over the topic of murder. As if keeping his own hands lily white absolved him of any responsibility. "Between the projected trade revenue and sale of company stock," he went on, "I a.s.sure you, our new venture will rival the East India Company."

She spread the first few pages out on the table and took a few moments to study the equations. To her grim satisfaction, it appeared that all her earlier conjectures were essentially correct.

"Profits are easy to put down on paper. But for me to work with these numbers, I need to have a clearer idea what you are actually doing." She paused, carefully choosing her next words. "Frankly, I can't conceive of any trading scheme that matches the scale of the East India Company."

"Perhaps it's because you have no imagination," answered c.o.c.kburn smugly.

She choked down a laugh.

"The Spanish colonies in the New World possess far grander riches than India," he went on. "There is Mexico, and a whole continent below it to exploit."

"Think of the ancient Aztec treasures brought back by the first Conquistadors." Gavin's eyes lit up. "Gold, silver, emeralds, spices. Not to speak of the potent coca leaf narcotic. And that's just the beginning."

"Yes, but the Spanish colonies are controlled by Spain," pointed out Arianna. "And Spain is controlled by France. Which in turn is ruled by Napoleon. Doesn't that present a slight problem for an English company?"

A smile blossomed on c.o.c.kburn's lips. "Not for us."

Gavin chuckled. "Vivre l'emperor."

Et voila. With that simple French phrase, the whole puzzle fell neatly into place. Saybrook had been essentially right in his speculations. Granted, the people who made up the pieces were slightly different, but the overall picture was the same-a group of English aristocrats had conspired with the French to betray their country's interest for their own economic gain.

"Lady Spencer told me about the Prince Regent's poisoning," said Arianna slowly.

"Lady Spencer ought to confine her activities to the bedchamber. Else she is going to end up like the others," said Gavin darkly.

Arianna ignored him. "She thought it was Concord who bribed her chef. But it wasn't, was it?" The words came tumbling off her tongue as she sought to clarify one last bit of information. "It was you who poisoned the Prince. By throwing the government into turmoil, you hoped to ensure that the meeting of Eastern allies would fail, allowing Napoleon to conquer all of Europe and then force England to sue for peace."

"Clever girl," murmured c.o.c.kburn.

"There's just one thing that I can't quite figure out-how did Major Crandall tie in?" she asked. "Is Grentham involved in your group? If I am to be part of this, I would like to know who else is involved. It's all part of a.s.sessing the risk of a venture as well as its reward."