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involve nothing but untruths, so he’d better steel himself to weaving them. He’d always heard that the closer one stuck to the truth, the more believable one’s lies. Well, he would put that theory to the test in the coming days or weeks.
    He thought about Lady Wexham’s dinner party—with a guest list of distinguished individuals from the highest levels of government. This was exactly the kind of social event Rees was here to witness, to keep his eyes and ears open for any whisper of just what Lady Wexham’s game was. Where did her true sympathies lie, with the Comte de Provence, who lived in exile just outside London, and who soon might be the new king of France—or with Napoleon Bonaparte, who still held the vast majority of Europe in his grasp and was Britain’s greatest foe?
    If Lady Wexham was guilty of any treason to the British government, Rees would find out, cost him whatever dignity it might.

4
    L ater that day Céline scowled at her maid through the dressing table mirror. “Careful, my hair is attached to my scalp.”
    Valentine’s reply was to grasp a hank of her locks and pull the brush even harder.
    “Ouch!”
    Valentine ignored her exclamation. With firm, dexterous motions she took up Céline’s hair and twisted it into a knot atop her head and proceeded immediately to stick pins into it. “If you want to look presentable this evening, you must pay the price.”
    Céline yawned. “Another tedious dinner. Though I have heard favorable things about the opera Artaxerxes .” The mention of the dinner she was attending reminded her of the one she was planning.
    She glanced at Valentine’s reflection in the mirror. “What do you think of Mr. MacKinnon?”
    Valentine snorted. “He is no butler.”
    The statement brought her up short, forcing her to remember the strange way he’d made her feel in the narrow confines of the wine cellar. She’d pushed aside the sensations as soon as she’d left the cellar, preferring not to dwell on them.
    Céline raised her eyebrows now at her maid. “No butler? Why, what has he done?”

    “What hasn’t he done?” she scoffed. “He is too young to know anything of heading a house of consequence.”
    Céline relaxed at Valentine’s words, seeing the woman had no unusual qualms about the new servant. “Well, we had no choice in the matter really. I couldn’t refuse Rumford’s offer. He felt so badly already, I didn’t want to add to his burden.”
    “Bah! He should not have forced you to take a family member in his place. I’m sure we could have done well without a stranger coming in.”
    “We didn’t know how long Rumford would be laid up. It is no light matter, to fall like that at his age. If he weren’t so far away, I would pay him a visit, but his sister assured me he is receiving the best of care.”
    “To go to Yorkshire on holiday! He had no business going so far.”
    “He cannot help it if his family lives there. If you had your way, none of the servants would ever have a holiday or visit their relatives, eh?”
    “They don’t know how good they have it with you as their mistress—and they take full advantage!” She ran the comb through the hairbrush to clean it out and placed the two back on the dresser. “If you didn’t have me to look after your interests, they would have long since robbed you of all the earl left you.”
    Céline laughed aloud at that. “That would take some doing.”
    Valentine curled a ringlet of Céline’s hair around her finger. “Still, it is not right to travel so far. What if I were to demand to go to France?”
    “Well, it would hardly be practical with the blockade. If we weren’t at war, I should by no means forbid you to return to France for a visit.”
    Valentine merely sniffed and continued fiddling with Céline’s coiffure. “There, that should do. Is Lady Agatha accompanying you tonight?”
    Céline made a face at the mention of the late earl’s spinster sister who lived with her. “Yes,