Devil's Daughter by Catherine Coulter Page B

happened?”
    “Well, you would not believe it, Bella, but all that fuss was over my two dances with the marchese. Papa ordered me not to fraternize with the young gentlemen, particularly the marchese. Indeed, he accused me of flirting with the marchese, and, well, I couldn’t let that pass, could I, Bella?”
    “Of course not,” Arabella said. “You are eighteen now, Rayna, and no longer a child.”
    Rayna fell into a brooding silence, then blurted out, “I also told Papa that he didn’t have to worry. The marchese is more likely interested in you than in me.”
    “Ah,” Arabella said, turning her face away so Rayna would not see her smile. “Appearances,” she continued, her back still to Rayna, “are sometimes deceiving. I beg you not to be cast down, love. We will see what happens. Perhaps you will see the marchese again at the queen’s reception for Lady Eden on Friday.” Indeed they would see each other, she thought. She had made certain that Adam would be attending the reception. She turned to face her friend. “I am glad you defended the marchese to your parents. He is a handsome and nice man.”
    “It seems that the queen is always receiving somebody,” Rayna said, disregarding Bella’s blatant opening. Her feelings for the marchese were too new and too fragile to discuss, even with her best friend. And,she thought, sighing, she wasn’t certain that the marchese didn’t prefer Arabella to her.
    “Well, I for one am delighted. I want to meet everyone. Now, Rayna, it is time for your Italian lesson.”
    “Very well,” Rayna snapped, “though I sometimes wonder why I bother.”
     
    A quarter-moon lit the night sky, its light reflected from the wispy fingers of chill fog that stretched along the narrow streets. Adam flung off his black cloak as he entered his lodgings. He strode into his small sitting room and nodded silently to Daniele Barbaro, who stood near the fireplace, stretching his hands out over the flame.
    “I expected you sooner. Here, drink this.” Daniele stepped forward and handed Adam a snifter of brandy. “It will seep the cold out of your bones.”
    Adam tossed down the brandy and stared blankly into the empty goblet.
    “What happened?” Daniele asked. “You saw the comte and the club members? It’s the narrow house set in the cul-de-sac at the end of the Via Rozza?”
    “Aye. I thought I had seen almost everything, Daniele,” he said at last. “But I was wrong. Don’t mistake me, they are not really satanists, but their notion of amusement is disgusting.”
    Daniele moved back to the fireplace and waited for Adam to continue.
    “Their house, so nondescript from the street, has been furnished like a medieval hall, complete with a trestle table and high-backed chairs. There were eight of them, all charming noblemen one meets at court. Very bored, I fancy, to be drawn into Gervaise’sinfluence. In any case, I watched through a narrow window while Gervaise showed them some sort of map. I couldn’t hear what he said, more’s the pity. There seemed to be a lot of discussion and a lot of drinking. When Gervaise left the room, I thought it was the end of their evening.”
    Adam rose and poured himself some more brandy. “It was but the signal for their amusement to begin. Gervaise came back into the room with a young girl, a peasant girl, I would imagine, quite pretty and likely very poor. They didn’t rape her. No, I fancy that she and her parents sold her virginity to the group of them. After the fifth man was through with her, I do not imagine she relished her bargain.”
    “Jesus,” Daniele said.
    “Do you know they drew numbers to determine the order?” He shook his head. “That’s how I know she was a virgin—that, and the look in her eyes when the first man finished with her.”
    “We must return, my lord.”
    “Aye, we must, Daniele, later, after they have all left. The house is three stories and only the bottom story was lit. Perhaps the upper floors