Julienne began her commission as a spy much sooner than expected, for the next day brought news that eclipsed all else: Napoleon Bonaparte had abdicated.
For hours pandemonium reigned in London as crowds took to the streets in celebration. Amid the blaring trumpets and banging pots and pans came ecstatic cheers and triumphant shouts of "the Corsican Monster is vanquished!" All Europe had been ground under Napoleon's boot heel for so long that his defeat seemed almost miraculous.
The emigres could talk of nothing else, Julienne discovered when she attended the impromptu gatherings at Solange Brogard's salon over the next several days. She shared their jubilation, even though her future wasn't directly dependent on the fate of Napoleon's successor, as theirs was. When the French Senate had declared in favor of King Louis, it meant that many of the exiles would be able to return home. But Julienne had no close family remaining, and the Folmont estates had been confiscated long ago.
At week's end, however, she had little progress to report to Dare. He called at her lodgings to take her for a drive in the country.
Even though it was a beautiful spring day, Julienne felt a definite tension between them. But Dare made no mention of her revelations about her shameful past, and she was determined to keep tight control of her emotions and pretend their angry lovemaking had never occurred.
She waited until they had left London's main streets before summarizing her lack of success as a spy.
"Everyone I observed is elated that Louis will be returning to France, along with the Compte d'Artois, the Prince de Conde, and other members of the exiled court. But I found no one at all who raised my suspicions or seemed to support Bonaparte. I'm sorry."
Dare shook his head. "You needn't apologize. And I sympathize with your frustration. We've had no luck in the search for Caliban."
"You haven't been able to identify the companion's lover?"
He hesitated, making Julienne wonder if he had indeed uncovered a new lead. But all he said was, "No. It's too soon yet to expect any breakthroughs on that front."
Then he surprised her by asking an entirely unrelated question. "That is quite a fetching hat. Did you design it?"
She reached up to touch the wide-brimmed silk bonnet that was adorned with tiny roses. "Not I. Maman was the one with the creative talent."
"While you were the one with the business sense."
"I suppose," Julienne said, puzzled by his change of subject.
For years after escaping to Kent, she and her mother had lived on the charity of distant relatives, in genteel shabbiness, struggling to make ends meet-until Julienne had hit upon the idea of selling bonnets and chapeaus that her artistic but frail mother designed. Like many Frenchwomen, the comptess had an astute eye for fashion, and her creations were in great demand. The business prospered well enough to eventually allow them to open a millinery and even to employ a clerk. They were scorned by both the French and English gentry for earning their living in trade, but at least they could afford the comptess's medicines.
Julienne couldn't understand, however, why Dare would make such an oblique observation unless it was to distract her from interrogating him about Caliban.
"You shouldn't underrate your own talents," he added smoothly. "You have an amazing gift for acting."
"Th
ank you," she said, deciding not to press him.
"I'm looking forward to your performance tomorrow night."
"Even though you've seen the same play a half-dozen times?" The run of Richard III had been extended another week by popular demand. "I should think you would be tired of watching me by now."
"I never tire of watching you, my sweet. And I must maintain my effort to win our wager."
"But of course."
At her tart tone, Dare's eyes glimmered with wry amusement. "Speaking of our wager, I have another opportunity to offer you. I plan to attend a race meet at Newmarket the first week in May-I have two colts running in the 2000 Guineas-and I would like you to accompany me."
Julienne frowned. "I cannot leave the theater for so long. Not after spending so much time at your house party last month."
"Even if your government requires you?"
"You mean you require me."
"You agreed to act as an informant for us."
"There are few emigres in Newmarket," Julienne retorted. "You are simply manipulating matters for your own benefit."
"True," he admitted, sounding unrepentant. "I will arrange it with Drury Lane so that you will be free for the week."