Author's note: Originally published on Archive of Our Own as a gift for theoldgods. Set in the universe of the book, though can easily be read as backstory for the movie.
"The Vicomte de Valmont?" She widens her eyes slightly, just enough so her shock appears genuine.
Madame de Volanges shakes her head sadly, in the manner of one conveying news of a death in the family. "I'm afraid so. The Countess says he's a friend of her husband, although rumor has it she's scandalously close to him herself. I know such a man must be an affront to your sensibilities, but you see he's all but certain to attend, and it wouldn't do to refuse her invitation on such short notice…"
"I understand perfectly well." The Marquise smiles, though not for the reasons she knows her friend will imagine. "Such men are woven into the fabric of our society, are they not? I do appreciate your warning, but I am not afraid. After the passing of my dear husband, men hold few temptations for me, and in all his vanity I find it hard to imagine Valmont would waste his time in pursuit of a grieving widow."
"You underestimate your charms, my dear!" Madame de Volanges laughs. "If my sources are to be believed, the man is absolutely shameless! Still, I hope you are right."
"So do I," she says, clasping the woman's hand in a gesture of utterly meaningless female solidarity. "Oh, believe me, so do I."
The Vicomte de Valmont is even more splendid in person than the Marquise imagined, cutting a swathe through the room with the practiced ease of a falcon, seeking out prey and not relinquishing it until he'd made certain of his kill.
She does not approach him, does not even look at him for longer than seconds at a time, giving every appearance of aloof disdain.
Still, she makes very certain that she is alone when he draws nearer.
"I don't believe we've been introduced." The Vicomte bows with a flourish, unnecessary but appreciated. "I am the Vicomte de Valmont, and you, I am told, are the most virtuous Marquise de Merteuil."
She tilts her head curiously. "You've rather robbed me of an introduction, Vicomte, though you certainly don't require one. Your exploits are rapidly approaching legend."
"Are they? And here I thought a woman such as yourself would scorn to hear such unsavory things." His smile is blindingly charming, a thrilling surprise even from such a handsome face.
Her mistake was deliberate, but she humors him by pretending to be taken aback for a moment before composing herself once more. "Well, I am no recluse, and you are hardly discreet. I daresay my cousin, Madame de Volanges, waits breathlessly for tales of your latest conquest so she can rush to denounce you to all her friends."
He laughs like a schoolboy, with an unrestrained glee that she might have found irresistible had she encountered him earlier in her studies.
Which isn't to say she has any intention of resisting him now. Only that she won't be a little fool about it.
"Such compliments are gratifying, of course, but I must say I am significantly more interested in you, Madame la Marquise, than your cousin."
She smiles, raising her fan. "I must confess, Vicomte, I too, find you more interesting than my cousin."
She leads him on carefully, a wolf to be guided through a hedge maze until he's lost all sense of orientation. She knows he is still sating his appetites with other women, not nearly as patient as he would like her to believe, but that is just as well, in her opinion.
Let his old pleasures grow stale and charmless. Let him satisfy his physical urges while his pride remains thirsty for satisfaction, desire spurred on only by the littlest of gestures.
"There's an acquaintance of mine I've been meaning to ask after," she murmurs, selecting a bracelet of diamonds set in silver as she glances at the reflection of Valmont in her mirror. "A woman."
"Oh?" That smile would send shivers down a nun's spine. "And here I thought you were too circumspect to befriend any woman I'm likely to know."
"I never said she was my friend." She pauses. "The Intendante de -."
Valmont's smile vanishes. "And where did you hear that name?"
"From the Comte de Gercourt, of course." She paused, letting the name sink in. "When he told me he was forsaking my company for hers."
His sharp eyes light with understanding, a hint of that smile playing around his mouth. "So you're telling me I wouldn't be the first to cross your threshold?"
"Far from it." She smiles in the mirror, taking up a heavy diamond necklace (counterpart to the bracelet) but before she can close the clasp Valmont's hands are on hers, brushing against the nape of her neck.
"Allow me, Madame la Marquise." His fingers are deft, and gone all too quickly. "I must say, I was quite aware I was pursuing a woman of great intelligence and resourcefulness, but if you managed to ensnare Gercourt without any of his friends being the wiser for it, you are far more devious than I had dared dream."
"Unfortunately, he sprung free before I grew tired of him, much as I suspect the Intendant did in your case." She catches Valmont's eye in the mirror, just in time to see him frown. "That has never happened to me before."
"That makes two of us." His words are sour, but the unguarded look on his face suggest he is far more interested in the fresh bait she is dangling before him than licking the wounds of the past.
"Which is why I thought it only appropriate than our paths should cross at long last." She tilts her head to observe the movement of her earrings and Valmont's grin, reflected just over her shoulder.
"You diabolical creature, you planned this from the start!" He plants his hands on the back of her chair, leaning over her. "How utterly magnificent you are."
"I propose something no other women can give you, Vicomte." Her heart began to pound. "An alliance."
"An alliance?" His breath was on her shoulder, hot even through the silken fabric.
She turns, her powdered cheek brushing against Valmont's, and looks deep into the keen eyes of a fellow hunter. "My mind for yours, in all its cunning. My honesty in exchange for yours. Tell me your secrets, and I'll tell you mine."
He smiled with languorous pleasure."And your body?"
"Oh, I think that can be arranged," she breathed, drawing him into a kiss.
He is every bit as proficient as she imagined, and she is grateful indeed that he has no way of knowing the effect he is having upon her. For the time being she has the upper hand, and that is how she intends to keep it.
"You know, I'm rather inclined to feel grateful to Gercourt," Valmont remarks, his hand sliding up her thigh. Before she has time to be annoyed, he adds, "If that colossal idiot hadn't given you up, I might have been denied these pleasures."
"And the Intendante?" She imagines the woman lying feebly among her pillows, too pliant to notice any difference between her lovers.
He laughs and she twists her hand in his hair till he lets out a grunt of pain. "I was going to say, I've very nearly forgotten her name."
She smiles, well pleased, and pushes his head down to her breasts.