Grenville started up the stairs. Marianne backed away from the banister, poised to flee. 'No. Captain Lacey only.'
'This is my house!'
'Lacey alone. Or you can search for me all you like.'
I had never seen Grenville so enraged. He rarely let his temper get the better of him, especially not in front of his servants. Now his face was nearly purple, and cords of his throat pressed his cravat.
'Grenville,' I said quickly. 'Please allow me. I need her help.'
Grenville's eyes sparkled with rage. At that moment, I believe he hated me.
But Grenville had spent a lifetime mastering his emotions. His position as the top gentleman of society depended upon him keeping a cool head in every situation. I watched him deliberately suppress his anger, drawing on his sangfroid. His color faded and the alarming throbbing in his neck subsided.
'As you wish,' he said stiffly.
He turned and stalked through double doors into the grand drawing room. He even managed not to slam the door.
I ascended the stairs. Marianne came down to meet me on the second-floor landing then led me to a chamber at the back of the house.
It was her boudoir. A sumptuous bed, Egyptian style with a rolled head and foot, reposed under a lavish canopy. Comfortable chairs in the same style stood about, and a bookcase with glass doors offered a fine selection of books. Landscapes of idyllic country scenes hung on the walls, and a dressing table piled with perfume bottles and brushes and combs stood near the warmth of the fire.
Marianne wore a silk peignoir, fastened in front with dark blue ribbons, a finer garment than any I'd ever seen her in. But her face was white, and her hands shook.
'Lacey,' she said, her voice low and fierce. 'You must make him see reason.'
'Why? What has Grenville done?'
'He has made me his prisoner, that is what he has done! He will not let me go out unless Dickon or Alicia stay close by my side. They are dull company, I must say. And I may go only to places he allows me to go.'
I sat down without invitation, easing my hurt leg. 'Perhaps he does not want you running off to another protector.'
'Why the devil should I? There's not a gentleman in London who can give girl a finer house and better dinner than Lucius Grenville, and everyone knows it.'
'Then what is the matter?'
She pointed a rigid finger at the door. 'What is the matter is him. He will not cease bombarding me with questions. He wants to know why I want to go out and where I want to go and why the devil I want to go alone. It is my business, I say.'
'He has made a considerable investment in you, Marianne.'
'Lacey, you must take me out of here. Ma Beltan's place is at least respectable, and a girl can feel like she owns her own soul.'
The blue ribbons trembled. Her eyes were wide, pleading.
'I would have thought you'd like living in luxury,' I said. 'This house is one of the finest I've ever seen, and he's showered you with whatever you could want.'
'He has.' She looked angry to admit it. 'He has given me plenty of gifts. But he dogs my footsteps. I cannot bear it.'
'You puzzle me, Marianne. I had it in my mind that you liked Grenville's attentions.'
A flush stole over her cheeks. 'I do.'
'Then why not stay and enjoy what he gives you? You have always encouraged me to get as much out of him as I could.'
'Because I- ' Marianne stopped. I saw her rearrange her words. 'I cannot be his prisoner. No matter how gilded the cage.'
'Who is it you want to leave the house to visit?'
Her flush returned. 'No one.'
'Grenville deserves to know whether you have another lover. Or a husband.'
She gave me a scornful look. 'Do not be daft, Lacey. I would not let a husband live off me even if I had one. Or a lover.'
'Then what did you do with Grenville's money?'
Marianne chewed on her lower lip. The previous year, Grenville had made her spontaneous presents amounting to thirty guineas in total, a goodly sum. The money had disappeared with no explanation.
'I told you before,' she said. 'I gave it to my sick granny.'
'No, you said it was your sick mum. What happens to the money, Marianne?'
'Are you spying for him now?'
'No.' I stopped before I lost my temper. 'Anything you tell me, I will not impart to him, unless you give me leave.'
'Oh, yes, I forgot, you pride yourself on your honor. But I will say again, it is none of your business. And none of his, either. The money was mine to do with what I liked, so I did what I liked. I did not give it to another man. I am not that foolish.'
I regarded her quietly. 'What do you fear he will do if you tell him the truth?'
She shrugged, but her gaze was uneasy. 'Who knows? Even you do not know what he can do, do you? As much as he is your friend, you do not really know him.'
I had to concede this truth. Grenville was a powerful man, and if he chose to patronize me, or Marianne, he did so for his own reasons.
'I will speak to him,' I said.
'Tell him he has no right to keep me here, locked away. That I-'
I held up my hand. 'I said I would speak to him. You might try being kinder to him, Marianne. I know from experience that you are a trial to live with.'
She made a face at me, but she relaxed somewhat. 'I do not live with him; he barely comes to see me. He has never even asked for what a gent usually asks for. I don't understand why not.'
I had no wish to involve myself in that particular problem. 'What you mean is, you cannot tease him like you do the others. You cannot control him.'
She lifted her chin. 'Well, I will not allow him to control me.'
'That, you will have to fight out between yourselves,' I said. 'I will ask him to consider giving you a bit more freedom. I agree, you cannot give up your entire life for a few frou-frous.'
She smiled, her beauty shining through. 'You are a true gentleman, Lacey. I have always said so.'
'Yes, when you are not calling me other names. But enough, I did not come here to argue with you about Grenville. I came to ask you a question.'
'What sort of question?'
'I want to know whether you ever knew an actress called Peaches.'
Marianne laughed suddenly, then spun around and plopped ungracefully on the chaise longue. 'Even I have heard of you running about smashing windows at The Glass House. Be careful somebody does not bring suit against you, Lacey.'
I rested my hands on the top of Grenville's walking stick. 'They would get little from me in any case.'
She quirked a brow. 'So you want to know all about poor dead Peaches, do you? I never liked her, but it's sad that she came to such an end.'
'You did know her then.'
'Oh, yes, a long time ago, when she was fresh from the country. She was certain she'd take the public by storm.' She grinned. 'So many girls are like that, you know, certain they'll become the next Sarah Siddons. Peaches was no different. She'd come from a family of strolling players. Her father and mother had died of fever a few years before, and she decided London was the place to make her fortune. Her idea-she told me this, the silly chit-was that she'd appear on the stage in London, be raved over, and attract the attention of a man of great fortune who would marry her.' Marianne shook her head. 'The truth was, Peaches was a second-rate actress and the people of London didn't pay her much attention. Once the novelty of her wore off, she was more or less ignored.'
