Read Online You Only Love Once by Caroline Linden - Free Book Online

give your life for some English clerk’s scheme.”
    â€œYou have never betrayed my mother,” Angelique snapped. “Never. And whatever I bring upon myself…” She reined in her temper and spoke more evenly. “You of all people must understand why I do this.”
    Melanie’s mouth pinched. “You cannot avenge what happened to your parents.”
    â€œI don’t try,” she said testily. “But I do know that when they needed a savior, none was there. Perhaps if someone had taken Marat’s life when he was still a dirty rebel in the streets, my parents would not have been killed for a piece of land. Perhaps if the ministers and King had fought the anarchy instead of hiding away in their palaces, they would not have lost their heads, along with the heads of so many other decent people. I do not pretend the English government is a beacon of beneficence, but they keep order.”
    â€œ Oui , I realize that,” said Melanie, retreating at once, lowering her eyes like a servant. “I am the one who taught you to hate the Revolutionaries, after all.”
    Angelique’s anger faded, as it always did at that expression. Once Melanie had said Angelique looked so much like her mother when in a temper, it was impossible for her not to yield. Melanie’s loyalty to the late countess ran deep and absolute, and it reminded Angelique how much Melanie had done for her. She leaned forward and clasped the older woman’s hand. “I know you speak from concern,” she said softly. “I am sorry to disappoint you time after time.”
    â€œYou are not a disappointment to me.”
    Angelique smiled. “This time I am not. Because…” She hesitated. “This assignment will be my last.” Hope and cautious joy sprang into Melanie’s eyes. “I am still not even certain I will do all he wants. He asks a great deal of me, and I do not look forward to it.”
    â€œWhat does he want?” Melanie demanded.
    â€œHe asks me to pose as a bored wife.” Angelique pulled a face. “With an American nabob who wishes to play spy. Can you imagine? But we shall see how things begin. It may not be so bad.” Melanie didn’t look convinced, but she said nothing. Even if she asked, Angelique would not tell her more, and they both knew it.
    To change the subject, Angelique opened her reticule and took out a plump packet. “This is for you.”
    â€œFor the poor,” said Melanie firmly as she accepted it. Angelique lifted one shoulder; if it pleased Melanie to give the money to the poor, so be it. She knew her foster mother wouldn’t spend the money on herself, but they had reached an agreement. Angelique gave the money freely, and Melanie didn’t protest how she earned it.
    She rose to her feet. “I should go.” Melanie put aside the package of money and walked her to the door. Angelique took another look around the comfortable rectory. “Mr. Carswell is out, I presume.”
    â€œHe will be sorry to have missed you,” Melanie said. “Someday you will come for a real visit, I hope, and stay with us. You are always welcome.”
    Angelique felt almost wistful. She sometimes thought of visiting Melanie openly, without the artifice of visiting the graveyard. Mr. Carswell, Melanie’s husband, was a generous, decent man and never condemned her—although, one must admit, it was highly unlikely Melanie had told him the precise truth about Angelique and her occupation. “Perhaps,” she said softly. “I think of it often.”
    Melanie beamed. “You must. Finish this job, and come to me. Spend the winter with us.”
    â€œIt is possible…” She paused; perhaps it was better to say nothing. “Do give Mr. Carswell my regards.”
    â€œOf course. I will look for Mr. Dexter’s letter every day.” Melanie embraced her. Angelique caught a whiff of lemon and mint