"Stop there." The low, raspy voice was reminiscent of crushed glass rubbed together, grating and ominous.
Desjardins stopped.
"Is it done?"
"The seeds have been planted," the comte said.
"Good. Saint-Martin will cling to her more tenaciously now that he feels threatened."
"I thought he would weary of the same bedsport months ago," Desjardins muttered.
"I warned you Marguerite Piccard was different. Fortunately for you, as it has led to our profitable association." There was a weighted pause, then, "De Grenier covets her. He is young and handsome. It would be a thorn to Saint-Martin to lose her to him."
"Then I shall see that de Grenier has her."
"Yes." The finality in L'Esprit'stone made Desjardins grateful to be this man's associate and not his enemy. "Saint-Martin cannot be allowed even a modicum of happiness."
Prologue 2
"The Vicomte de Grenier has come to call."
Marguerite lowered the book she was enjoying and stared at her butler. It was the middle of the day, not a time when Philippe was known to be visiting with her. Regardless, only those privy to the secret du roi felt such urgency that they would seek him out at his mistress's home.
"The marquis is not here," she said, more to herself than to the servant who knew that already.
"He asks for you, mademoiselle."
She frowned. "Why?"
The butler said nothing, as was to be expected.
Frowning, she snapped her book closed and rose. "Please send for Marie," she said, desiring her maid's company so that she would not be alone with the vicomte.
When the maid arrived, Marguerite descended to the lower floor and entered the parlor. De Grenier rose upon her arrival and bowed elegantly.
"Mademoiselle Piccard," he greeted with a gentle smile. "You steal my breath."