Finn nodded.
“Yes, I suppose you’d have to,” Cobra said. “I’ve gone out of my way to be straight with you. Don’t let me down.”
“It’ll be kept between the four of us, you have my word on it,” said Finn.
“Thanks.”
“Just one more question,” Finn said. “In case we don’t back off, as you put it, how far are you prepared to go to protect Mongoose?”
Cobra stared at Finn steadily. “How far are you prepared to go to get him?”
Finn nodded and licked his lips. “Yeah,” he said. “Wish I could say that it’s been nice.”
Cobra regarded him silently for a moment, then turned and walked away. He paused at the door.
“I said I owed you for the last time, Finn. Consider the slate wiped clean.”
As Finn came out of the sitting room, there was no sign of Cobra. However, Marguerite saw Finn and approached.
“Percy, who was that man you were just with? I don’t think I recall seeing him before.”
“Oh, just someone I once knew, my dear,” said Finn.
“What was his name?”
“Damned if I know. We met somewhere, but for the life of me, I simply can’t remember where or when. I’m certain it will come to me.”
“You don’t remember him at all?”
Finn shrugged. “Odd’s life, my dear, I can’t be expected to recall the name of everyone I meet, now can I? Why worry about such trivial matters? If he was important, doubtless he would have made a more lasting impression.”
“What a fleeting memory you have, my husband. I wonder that you recall my name!”
“Why, what a thing to say! What are you suggesting?”
“Only that I wonder how lasting an impression I made upon you,” she said. “Sometimes it seems that you’ve forgotten me completely. It seems that-”
“Why, there’s Lord Hastings!” Finn said, quickly. “I’ve been looking for him all this evening. You’ll pardon me, my dear, but I simply must have a word with him concerning business matters. We can discuss this later, surely.”
His stomach tied in knots, Finn fled Marguerite’s presence and made his way across the crowded room towards Hastings. He felt her eyes on him as he rushed away, but he did not look back. He was afraid to.
He managed to avoid her for the remainder of the evening, always finding some excuse not to be alone with her and making certain that there was always a small group of what he had privately started calling “the Blakeneyites” around him. These were socially ambitious young men who had fastened onto him as a role model, copying his style of dress, aping his mannerisms, and laughing his nasal, inane laugh. He despised them, but as Blakeney, he encouraged them, stroking their tender egos and treating them like favorite sons. They served a threefold purpose. They helped to lend Blakeney an air of vapid stupidity as they all stood around together, striking casual poses and acting like mindless peacocks. They served as a barrier between him and Marguerite who, contrary to all expectations, was not growing bored and disenchanted with her husband, but was instead growing more and more determined to rekindle his interest in her. Already astonishingly beautiful, Marguerite took great pains to become even more so for her husband. She kept experimenting with perfumes, looking for a fragrance that would please him and, even when there were no guests about, she took great care to dress herself in an exquisite fashion and to appear as seductive as possible. At parties such as this, the Blakeneyites fawned over her as well, and kept her occupied. Finally, they helped to deter the advances of other women toward Sir Percy Blakeney. Why these women found the insipid character he had created attractive was a mystery to Finn, who had never understood most women anyway, except a certain type, like Andre, who were refreshingly direct and devoid of any affectations. Why Marguerite had not grown totally disgusted with him was a mystery, as well. The mission, which he had thought would be a fairly easy one, had developed unique and seemingly insurmountable difficulties. He was growing sick and tired of the whole charade.
It was with a huge feeling of relief that he went up to his rooms that night. In the morning, he would be leaving once again for France. The Scarlet Pimpernel had to perform another daring rescue. The Marquis de Sevigne had been judged in absentia by the Committee of Public Safety and condemned to death. Unable to get out of Paris, the aristocrat had been hidden by Marguerite’s brother, Armand St. Just. Finn had passed the word to Ffoulkes and Dewhurst during the party.
It would be far less of a strain than the evening he had just endured. A pleasant sail across the English Channel on the Day Dream would be just the thing to clear his head and he could then discuss with Lucas what Cobra had told him. Hastings, Rodney Moore, and the Byrne brothers, Alastair and Tommy, would book passage across the Channel several hours behind him, giving Finn and Lucas all the time they needed to check in with Fitzroy and to decide upon a plan of action. All he needed now was sleep, and just one more drink.
He had brought a bottle of brandy up with him and he sat down on the bed, dressed only in his britches and unfastened shirt, and drank straight from the bottle. He had polished off one-third of the bottle when the door to his bedroom opened
and Andre came in.
“It’s a waste of good brandy to gulp it down like water,” she said.
“Water? What’s that?”
“Something happened tonight, didn’t it?” she said. “Something shook you up. I could tell, Marguerite could tell, and I suppose that Lucas could tell, though he’s probably waiting to ask you about it tomorrow. I don’t have that luxury, since I’m being left behind again.”
“I already explained that to you, Andre,” Finn said, wearily. “I need you here, with Marguerite.”