A Malevolent Manner (Patrick Pierce #1)
As the carriage lurched along the cobble stoned streets, it was all he could do to refrain from staring at his companion within. Two failed attempts at taking a casual glimpse had already ended with him practically ogling her. So Pierce grudgingly resorted to simply looking out his window onto the darkened street beyond in order to save himself from further embarrassment.
The first embarrassing event occurred earlier in the evening as he waited by the door of the safe house, pacing in a suit Melrose had packed for him. Despite the subtle dark hues of the clothing, the richness of the fabric and expertise of the tailoring displayed his supposed wealth more than any extravagant costume could.
He peered out the front door window as the carriage pulled up, driven by Sean, with Liam riding beside him. He briefly wondered where they found an appropriate carriage in such short notice, but then thought better of it and appreciated their scrounging skills in contented ignorance. The sound of footsteps descending the stairs brought his attention back to the hall and he turned around to inform Jane that the carriage was ready for them. But rather than the pretty but reserved house maid that travelled with them through the portal, a refined and elegant woman was returning his gaze. A flowing black and silver gown, along with elbow length silver gloves, displayed her impressive physical attributes perfectly. Her hair was up in the current fashion and held in place with a pair of silver combs shaped like laurel leaves. She had taken the classical style of the current period and had transformed into a Greek goddess. Pierce’s cane and jaw dropped instantly in unison, much to his wife’s amusement and delight.
“You’ve dropped your cane sir,” MacDuff offered as he approached with Jane’s elegant silk shawl. “You look fantastic my lady.”
“Thank you MacDuff, but there’s no need for that lady nonsense. You’ve all been more than kind already.”
“I wasn’t just being kind. You’ve got to get into character. A Countess has no need to be grateful,” MacDuff instructed gently. “You expect preferential treatment at all times.”
“Very good, open the door and let’s be off,” Pierce ordered shortly, trying to regain his composure as he took Jane’s hand.
The drive from the safe house to the harbour was short, much to Pierce’s relief. Although he had changed a great deal since his arrival at the Manor, he’d just discovered that some things had stayed the same. Shooting another quick glance at Jane sitting beside him he realised that he was a tongue tied mess when faced with women. The more attractive they were, the worse it seemed to be.
With the setting of the sun, the port bared little resemblance to the dirty bustling place of trade from earlier in the day. The workman and stevedores had returned to their homes and those sailors not on duty had escaped to enjoy the lively local establishments. The ships’ lanterns twinkled like nearby stars in the harbour, while the lack of electrical light only amplified the power of the true stars above. The moon was not yet full, but still shone brightly in the clear night sky.
The hotel was brighter still, with all of the windows alight and a series of flaming torches out front. A mass of people crowded out front; those lucky enough to have invitations, and those simply happy with observing the party from a distance.
The carriage followed the road along the harbour front, slowing noticeably as it entered the queue of similar carriages disgorging their wealthy riders at the front door of the hotel. There were more than a dozen such carriages in front of them, slowing their progress so that Pierce found himself watching those on foot pass them. Many were couples dressed in their finest, presumably attending the ball as well.
As the carriage inched closer to the hotel, Pierce felt a trembling hand latch on to his. Surprised he looked over and could sense the nerves Jane was desperately trying to contain. The intimidating woman from the staircase had disappeared, but so too had the dutiful servant. He suddenly realised that he was looking at the real Jane for the first time, stripped of the masks she wore for others. He was instantly enamoured and completely at ease with her.
“You’re going to be fine,” he soothed, lifting her hand and gently kissing the top of it. Much to his relief, a smile broke out across her face. “You’re beautiful.”
He’d been physically attracted to her from their first brief encounter in Drummond’s office, what seemed like a lifetime ago. That attraction had still remained after he overheard her with Cleaver; she was an attractive woman after all, but her appeal had dropped significantly. Pierce had felt he could not trust her, and no amount of beauty could overturn that. But even after Lodge had informed him of her true allegiance, which he believed, something had still felt false about her. Even on the drive to the hotel, when he couldn’t keep his eyes off her, he’d felt an inkling of doubt about her in his mind. She wasn’t fake or deceitful, but there was something about her bearing that he felt was odd. Now he realized that she’d been putting on an act, trying to appear worldly and confident in the company of the Brown Pack in order to gain their acceptance.
Pierce looked at the real Jane for the first time, the lights from the hotel casting shadows within the carriage. He realized now that she’d hidden herself with chameleon-like ability with projections of what others expected. It was a defence mechanism that he understood all too well himself. But now her true self had escaped and he was enthralled by the excitement, anxiety, fear, and determination that she was now freely displaying. More importantly the look she returned to him seemed to mirror his feelings exactly. For a split second he completely forgot about the Manor, Bufford, Cleaver, Lodge, and everything else outside the carriage.
The sudden stop of the carriage broke the brief moment of respite from duty and the job at hand was once more at the forefront. Without thinking it, they both replaced their open emotional masks and became the characters on the invitation card. They heard Liam drop down from his perch in the back and walk over to the door.
“Are you ready to do this?” Pierce asked, still holding her hand.
She leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the lips, and then smiling gave him a wink in reply. Pierce wanted nothing better than to grab her and return the favour, but Liam opened the door and was helping Jane out of the carriage before he could act.
There was no red carpet filling the distance between the carriage and the hotel entrance, but that didn’t diminish the atmosphere outside. Some of the lesser attendees were lined up patiently with their invitations in hand, eagerly watching those descending from the carriages. Away from the main doors groups of young people stared wistfully through the hotel windows, imagining themselves inside.
If they’d been in Hollywood, Pierce had no doubt that Jane would have attracted every camera in the area and they would have been blinded by the flashes. As it was a collective gasp of envy and desire was let out as they gracefully walked past the crowd towards the front door. Both cut a fine figure in their luxurious black and silver clothing.
Liam fell in step behind them as Sean drove the carriage away. He held the invitation like the dutiful servant he portrayed and merely waved it at the doormen as they approached. The doormen were examining the invitations of those who’d arrived on foot like ill-tempered border guards. But those rich enough to arrive by carriage were merely waved through to the next level of security.
A tall sparse man in a dark suit greeted them mechanically and asked for their invitation without raising his eyes from the clipboard in his hands. When none immediately appeared he looked up with brief annoyance, quickly replaced by charm as he saw the elegant duo before him. Pierce did not even react to this display, like the cultured aristocrat he was playing, merely raised his hand and snapped his finger.
Liam nearly ran around them and presented the invitation to the greeter, leaving as soon as it was delivered. The man only glanced at it briefly before calling a liveried footman over. He handed the invitation over to the servant, resplendent in crimson and gold and topped with a white wig.
The lobby was decorated with the same colours as the footm
an and acted as an assembly area for those removing outerwear and other’s waiting to make their entrance to the ballroom beyond. The rise and fall of numerous voices crashed like waves within the space, practically drowning out the music from the ballroom beyond. Patrick and Jane followed the footman across the busy lobby, pretending to be oblivious to the stares their passage was drawing. He led them to a counter where a second footman expertly caught Pierce’s thrown swordstick, before helping remove their jacket and shawl.
“Does his lordship wish to have any refreshments before entering?” the footman politely asked in French after they’d finished, pointing to the bar across the room.
“Certainement, deux champagnes.” Pierce replied in kind. Without waiting for a response he took Jane’s hand and led her to an unoccupied salon chair in the middle of the waiting area. Despite the continual arrival of new people into the lobby, Pierce noticed that they continued to attract the most attention from those around them.
“Do you see him or any of his men?” Pierce whispered after they sat down.
“No I don’t,” Jane replied as she casually scanned the room. Despite the number of people in the lobby, there didn’t appear to be any alcoves where someone could hide.
Their drinks arrived swiftly and the footmen remained with them, albeit at a discreet distance. Both had to refrain from shooting their champagne back in an effort to calm their nerves. Everything had gone well so far, but that wasn’t easing the tension building within each of them. Nevertheless they slowly sipped their drinks, watching the new arrivals with practiced disinterest. Within a few minutes their glasses were empty and Pierce merely raised his hand and nonchalantly signalled for another round to the footman assigned to them.
These drinks arrived even faster than the first and Pierce could tell the footman was trying to display his worth. Sensing an opportunity to collect an ally, Pierce dropped a gold coin on the footman’s silver serving tray as he collected the empty glasses. The servant displayed his tactful professionalism by not reacting to the tip with excitement or shock. He simply nodded with a slight shift of the head.
“I have a request for you,” Pierce began after motioning for the footman to come closer. “I’m planning on meeting someone tonight, but I don’t want to ignore my lovely wife while I run around looking for him.”
“Perhaps I could keep an eye out and fetch you if I find him?”
“My thoughts exactly. He’s new to Marseille so his name will be useless to you. But he’ll be easy to spot, he’s American,” Pierce continued, providing a physical description of Colonel Bufford. “One coin, when you tell me he’s arrived and another to direct me to him. But don’t bring him to me, I don’t wish to trouble the Countess with his presence. Understood.”
The footman nodded solemnly and left to return the empty glasses to the bar before retaking his position near them.
“You are good at this, my Count,” Jane whispered as she leaned closer to him.
“I’m not so sure, everyone’s still looking at us,” he replied cautiously. “I can understand their attention to you, you’re a knock-out in that outfit, but I feel like my disguise is wearing thin. It’s easy to trick a footman with money, but some of the other guests might not be so easily fooled.”
“For such a smart man you can be so clueless” Jane laughed hollowly. “It’s been my experience that rich people are easier to trick with money than us mere servants.”
“Oh… I forgot…” Pierce muttered quietly, embarrassed by his choice of words. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m just teasing, I know you didn’t mean it like that,” she smiled brightly. “But you don’t realize how good you really are at this. You’ve got this whole place fooled. When I first met you in Drummond’s office I didn’t know what to make of you. You were a blank sheet, indecipherable compared to the other members of the Hunt. But over time that changed, you’ve changed.”
“Changed how?”
“You might not have noticed how you’ve changed, since it’s much easier to tell from the outside looking in. I hadn’t seen you for weeks while I was with Lord Lodge, so I was shocked by the change when you and MacDuff showed up at my room. You weren’t the Lord Pierce I’d last seen at the pub, but at the same time you were him, but more so. It’s hard to explain, but I feel like you’ve evolved to become the man you were supposed to be. Not some mindless killer and not some timid bureaucrat. Does that make sense?”
“I guess,” he allowed slowly. “I mean, I’ve developed some new skills since arriving at the Manor. Plus I feel a little more confident after everything we’ve been through so far.”
“Either you’re being modest or you have no sense or yourself,” Jane retorted to his lame response. “Either way, stop it. Do you know who you reminded me of when you planned our strategy against Colonel Bufford, or when we exited the carriage and arrived here? And sitting there now with such poise?”
Pierce merely looked at her blankly, careful to remain in character as they sat in the lobby full of strangers. He had always blended in to his environment when he wanted to avoid attention from others. But their current cover did not allow for this now, and he felt terribly exposed and uncomfortable as the center of attention.
“You remind me of Lord Lodge,” Jane stated shrewdly. “Sure, everyone around here noticed me first, look at what I’m wearing. But the reason they continue to look this way after eyeing my bust line is that they feel the presence of a powerful man.”
“But this is an act.”
“Great men are powerful because they command attention and respect without trying. Look at how the Brown Pack reacts to your instructions. They all have more experience, skills, and ability than you. But they follow your orders without question.”
These thoughts had been lurking at the back of Pierce’s mind for some time, but finally surfaced through Jane’s persistence. He looked beyond Jane and swept the room with his eyes, noticing more than a few people looking his way with curiosity, admiration, and respect. The truth of Jane’s statement both surprised him and filled him with a confidence he’d never known.
Without thinking he leaned over and placed a passionate kiss on Jane’s lips. Short enough to be acceptable in their surroundings, but long enough to show his gratitude, confidence, and to show her it wasn’t part of the act.
“Shall we enter then, Countess?” he gestured gallantly, rising first and then holding his hand down to her. She happily accepted it and rose to meet him.
From their seats, both had noticed that some of the attendees were announced before entering the ball. They were the rich and influential patrons of the party, the same people who had arrived by carriage like them. The less ostentatious party goers seemed to slink past the announcer, simply happy to gain admittance.
Jane and Pierce crossed the lobby once again, aiming for a doorway flanked by two footmen. As they approached, the music grew louder and a mass of moving figures could be seen beyond. They lined up behind two well dressed couples at the doorway, noticing that it opened up to a small landing overlooking the ballroom. Their footman had discreetly followed their progress across the lobby and had carefully passed them at the doorway to deliver their invitation to the announcer.
Like most balls of importance, a caller was placed at the entrance to announce the arrival of distinguished guests. The names were called in a loud monotonous voice, largely ignored by those present. However it made the people beside the caller feel important and added a regal ambience to the evening.
The two couples before them were the exact target of such flattery; being the honourable Mr. and Mrs. So-and-so. However when Pierce and Jane elegantly stepped onto the landing with dignified indifference, a few people actually took notice. When their names were announced, it sent a minor shockwave through the crowd.
“The Count and Countess of Monte Cristo!” announced the caller with somewhat more verve than usual.