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Chapter Nine
What was Henry Wagner doing here?
Constance paced her room in her stockinged feet, not wanting anyone to take note of her restlessness. The sound of her shoes tapping on the hardwood floor would give her away in a minute if anyone were to note it. And she had claimed the need to rest. Amusement flitted through her. She was doing the exact opposite of resting, to be sure.
What could he be up to?
Who could she trust with her concerns?
Constance didn’t know or trust anyone at the gathering. Instinctively she felt as though she could trust Mr. Florent Alcott with her knowledge and even her life, but that was being more melodramatic than the situation called for. While her independence might be at stake if Wagner were to do as he wished and compromised her into being able to marry her wealth, she didn’t think he would actually harm her, not beyond what was necessary to do the compromising, anyway.
Connie sighed.
She would have to pull Peggy away from whatever pursuits she was involved in. Connie knew her dear friend and companion was quietly resuming an old courtship that had gone wrong years ago. She didn’t have all the details and she hesitated to interfere, but Peggy was needed here at the moment. Connie was singularly averse to being compromised.
Connie would admit to a certain curiosity about the process of being compromised. When she had her Season, she had a friend or two who had been found in the embrace of the gentleman they were interested in, which had resulted in a hasty betrothal. But that was not the sort of thing she feared from Wagner. Or perhaps it was.
She did not want to find herself forced into his company for the rest of her days. And while she might be curious about the embraces her friends had seemed to enjoy, she had absolutely no desire to share such intimacies with Mr. Henry Wagner. Nor did she wish to be forced into anything with him, let alone a life-long attachment. She was particularly opposed to the force element of being compromised, she supposed. The removal of her options.
She would never forgive a man who would do that to her. She really didn’t care if he felt he was entitled. He was no relation to her. How could he actually think he was entitled to her inheritance? It was her own dear grandmother who had bequeathed her the money that was in this moment causing her to quake in her chamber.
Another shiver ran through her as she remembered the last time she had a run-in with Mr. Wagner. It had been at a villa in Hannover. Connie had blocked much of the experience from her mind and in her distress of that moment she couldn’t even remember the name of her host. What she couldn’t forget was the feel of Wagner’s hot breath as he tried to force a kiss upon her. He hadn’t accounted for her strength, both physical and of character, and so wasn’t expecting the hard shove with which she freed herself from his arms. Just in time to not be found in his arms when someone he had evidently arranged to show up at the opportune time had come along. If she hadn’t been so furious and humiliated, she might have been amused by the expression of disappointment upon both gentlemen’s faces. Clearly, they had an agreement. She wondered how much Wagner had offered the other man for his role.
How did Wagner get invited to Everleigh?
That was really the question Constance was bothered by. On the continent, it had been one thing. The entire community of foreigners tended to accept one another quite freely and would be invited to all manner of entertainments on the merest acquaintance. But an English house party? At an Earl’s country seat? That would take someone actually vouching for you if you weren’t known to the host or hostess personally. This was much more serious.
Who had vouched for Henry Wagner?
Constance’s pacing was getting her nowhere closer to an answer. She finally strode to the bell pull and yanked on the one that would summon her maid. She was the only one she could trust. Any one of the Everleigh servants could have been bribed. And Constance needed Peggy to attend her immediately. Her maid would have to find her and bring her to Connie’s room. Connie didn’t feel safe enough to find her herself. She didn’t care if that sounded deranged even in her own mind. Her feelings were valid and based on experience.
Her pacing increased as she waited impatiently for the maid’s return with her companion. Constance finally forced herself to settle into a chair next to the locked door. She was going to make herself sick or wear a rut in the floor if she didn’t stop her restlessness.
Finally, the scratch on the door sounded her companion’s arrival but still Connie didn’t feel safe.
“Who is it?” she called, not unlatching the door until she heard Peggy’s familiar laugh.
“Who do you think it is?” came the sarcastic reply.
With a huff, Connie opened to her companion and her maid.
“Quickly, come in,” she said with an anxious glance down the hall.
“What has happened?” Peggy asked with a frown. “I thought your maid was being dramatic when she summoned me in what appeared to be a panic, but I can see from your hectic countenance there was cause for her concern. Are you ill?”
Without preamble Connie blurted out: “Henry Wagner is here.”
“Wagner?” Peggy repeated as though dumbfounded. “How could he have finagled an invitation to such an exclusive house party?”
“Perhaps it’s not as exclusive as we’d thought.”
“Well, it certainly isn’t peopled with a crush of guests like most balls you would attend in Town.”
“True, but he’s here, so it matters little. He must have been invited or he’d have been shown the door.”
Peggy stared at her friend and employer. “You want to leave, don’t you?”
“I am uncertain. Or rather, I am divided on the matter. Yes, a good part of me does want to run far from here, although another part of me questions what good that would do. If he could impose upon us here, he can do so anywhere, it would seem. And the rest of me is starting to have a good time here and doesn’t wish to leave yet, despite the threat. Besides, I hate the thought of running craven.”
