Fascination -and- Charmed (75 page)

“She’ll not be needing your protection on the way to her chamber for long, Calum,” Saber said.

Slowly, Calum raised his gaze from Pippa’s. He looked over his shoulder at the young earl. “What do you mean by that, Saber?”

“
He
sent me on to start the proceedings. His lackey, that’s what I am. And such a thing was never my father’s intention.”

Calum saw Struan frown but ignored the warning not to interfere. “He. You speak of the duke?”

“Aye. My beloved cousin Etienne. I have to be free of him, I tell you. You have no idea how he weighs upon my spirit. He and that lewd woman he parades—”

“Saber!” Struan all but shouted.

“She would bed any animal with the—”

“Saber!” Calum and Struan roared in unison.

“And Henri St. Luc follows me with his eyes like a man follows a girl he desires—”

“My lord,” Calum said, turning to face Saber, “May I remind you that there is a lady present.”

Had Saber not been the worse for drinking too much brandy, he would doubtless have been suitably chastised. The drink made him careless and daring. “She might as well know what she’s about to buy with her dowry,” he said, swaying a little. “My grandmama will be no prize as an in-law, either. She cares only for the damn
family.
And by that, she means the title my degenerate cousin holds. She’d toss everything to the wind to preserve the damnable honor of the Duke of Franchot.”

“You are not yourself,” Pippa said, her voice thin but steady. “Please rest. I’m certain the duke will want to listen to your concerns if you’ll only inform him of them.”

“Inform him of them?” Saber slapped a thigh and slopped brandy on the blue-and-gold silk rug. He curled the fingers of one hand into his palm and held it toward her. “Until my twenty-eighth year, my cousin holds my life like this, my lady. A word from him to the effect that I am not worthy of what my father left in trust for me, and the good duke may cast me out to toil in some far-flung family venture and take what is mine for himself.”

Pippa drew herself up. “He would
not
do so, Saber. He would not, I tell you. I refuse to believe the duke to be a man entirely without…entirely without…”

“Honor? Charity? Loyalty? Courage? Integrity? Take your pick, my lady. And then be assured that he is equally deficient in all these and many more qualities.” Saber uncurled his fingers and pointed at her. “And he will grind your gentle little spirit into
dust.
”

Struan was on his feet. “Enough, Saber. You are beyond being foxed, sir. You are a disgrace.”

“He is young,” Pippa said.

Calum grinned. “Not as young as you, Pippa. You must not heed anything he says in this condition.” Even though Calum knew every word to be true. Even though Calum yearned to tell Pippa that the man she thought of as her fiancé was an imposter who would be removed, or Calum would die in the attempt.

He would become Duke of Franchot or die in the attempt.

“Go to bed, Saber,” Pippa said kindly.

He would do whatever he had to do to claim the dukedom and everything that went with it—including Lady Philipa Chauncey. And when she discovered his reason for pursuing her, she would hate him...

Saber pulled himself up straight and tall and yanked at the bottom of his waistcoat. “I’m going to bed,” he mumbled. “Not myself. Sorry.”

“It’s all right,” Pippa said, smiling. The corners of her mouth quivered with the effort.

“Certainly it’s all right,” Saber agreed. He looked at her direct. “I’m to inform you that the duke has made certain decisions of interest to you.”

Pippa ducked her head. “Decisions?”

“Decisions. Etienne will be on his way here from London sooner than expected. He said to inform you of this. He also wishes you to ready yourself.”

Calum clenched his teeth and waited.

“My cousin has decided the matter of dealing with the tedious preparations for marriage are an annoyance to him. He told me to inform you that he intends to dispense with those preparations.”

Caution no longer interested Calum. He went to Pippa’s side and pried apart her clenched hands. One of her hands he held in his, and he felt the weight of her anxiety in the iron grip of her fingers.

“I do not understand you,” she said to Saber. “My father returns from the Continent by September. The marriage is planned to take place after his arrival.”

“Not anymore,” Saber said, avoiding her eyes. “In my dear cousin’s words: ‘Tell the lady I am bored with the niceties. Our bond is for reasons of business alone. I intend this marriage to be over and done with at once.’ ”

The gown was for him.

Pippa smiled at Justine and knew they shared the knowledge that this morning Pippa had dressed to please Calum Innes.

What they did not share was Pippa’s wild and sinful disappointment that Calum had not kept his promise—or had it been a threat?—to come to her last night.

“I should not wear this,” she said.

Justine, her brow puckered in concentration, twitched at the gold lace trim stitched beneath tucks in the bodice. “Wearing this is exactly what you should do today. Your spirits need all the help they can get. Besides, it is entirely appropriate for strolling among my ancestors. They were a flamboyant lot.”

Pippa was not at all sure what to make of that comment. “But what would the dowager say?” she asked, standing quite still in the middle of Justine’s daffodil-yellow sitting room while the other woman walked in a circle to survey the gown she had designed herself and supervised in its construction. Pippa bobbed a little.

“Be still,” Justine ordered. “How can I tell if the hem is straight if you wiggle?”

“Oh,
bother,”
Pippa said. She caught the lace at one cuff on a bodice button and struggled to free herself. “Oh,
bother.
Why am I so clumsy?”

“You are not often clumsy, Pippa.” Justine carefully disentangled the lace. “It is only agitation that makes you awkward.”

Pippa sighed. “The dowager would say this gown is entirely
inappropriate.
”

“Grandmama is determined to plead a decline. We shall not see her. And she is an old lady with an old lady’s ideas. You are a young woman. Young and lovely and alive, and your gowns should show you off.”

“But poppy, Justine.
Poppy.
”

“Yes,
poppy.
Who better to wear a gown of poppy-red muslin and gold lace trim than a girl with black hair and white skin and eyes as blue as the ring around a winter’s moon? Anyway, you said you loved the gown on the fashion doll I gave you. Surely you were not funning me?”

“Of course not.” Pippa felt herself blush, but as much with happiness as with embarrassment. “You are so good to me, Justine.”

“That is because I love you.” The other woman spoke as matter-of-factly as if she were pronouncing the weather fine. “You are like the sister I never had. Yes, I like this gown. I may even make myself one—in a different color, of course.”

“Good! Then I shall take even more pleasure in looking forward to shocking the dowager in
your
company.”

Justine’s own dress was of russet-brown watered silk with hints of red in its depths. Her eyes caught the shifting colors perfectly. Around her neck hung the only ornament she ever wore, a plain gold locket inscribed with a discreet, apparently religious emblem and suspended on a heavy gold chain. The entire effect of Justine’s toilette was dramatically simple, and Pippa thought her future sister-in-law made a delightful picture.

Sister-in-law.

Pippa’s stomach twisted. “What am I to do, Justine?”

Their eyes met, and there was no need to repeat the story Pippa had already told, about Saber’s announcement of the previous evening.

“Should I speak with the dowager?” she asked.

Justine considered. “I think not. Although Saber’s message does trouble me a little.”

Pippa tilted her face until Justine raised her eyes again. “Do not try to spare my feelings,” Pippa said, walking to view her new dress in Justine’s baroque-framed pier glass. “You are deeply concerned and so am I. But I must be honest with you. That is only fair, when you have been so kind to me. I am not…am not certain I want to…” She could not finish.

Justine came to stand beside her. She smoothed the back of Pippa’s bodice and rested her hands on her shoulders. “You do not want to marry Etienne,” she said, looking at Pippa in the mirror. “I know this. And I don’t know what to say, except that I believe you are truly good and that your goodness has been perceived by another who is good and true and strong.”

It was Pippa’s turn to frown. “You speak in pretty verse, but I don’t understand.”

“Perhaps Grandmama will not allow Etienne to jeopardize your reputation by starting the tongues of the
ton
wagging. You may think you have seen my grandmother at her imperious best. My dear, you have seen nothing compared with the storm that would descend upon this castle if Etienne did anything to bring notoriety upon the Franchot name.”

Pippa stared at her.

“You are not entirely without knowledge,” Justine said, lowering her lashes. “You know that a woman starts increasing after she has known her husband in the biblical sense. That, naturally, must not take place until after marriage. If there is any suggestion of this marriage being hastily arranged, there might be the rumor that you were not an innocent on your wedding day.”

Pippa’s face flamed. She had the vision that had haunted her in recent days, a vision of herself with That part of the Duke of Franchot between her lips.

One must have to
swallow
the seeds.

Rather like the earth swallowed seeds for marrows.

Pippa’s hands went to her waist. She’d seen ladies in voluminous and horribly heavy-looking gowns intended to conceal things that appeared quite like marrows ready for Harvest Festival.

Young Mrs. Tremilant, wife of a rather elderly clergyman near Dowanhill, had been increasing before Pippa left. The picture of slender, pale little Mrs. Tremilant on her knees before her corpulent cleric husband made Pippa shudder and close her eyes.

When she opened them again, she looked into Justine’s and saw anxiety there.

“Please try not to worry so,” Justine said. She caught Pippa’s hair and pulled it back behind her neck. Taking a length of the gold lace she’d used on the gown, she began to braid it through Pippa’s black tresses.

As Pippa watched, Justine created heavy gold-threaded braids and bound them around Pippa’s head until she resembled an exotic creature she did not know at all. “Justine, don’t you want me to marry the duke?”

“Do not press me in this.”

“I must. You have encouraged me to spend time with Calum Innes. Even now you are preparing me to see him in the gallery. You came to me while I was yet in bed and told me you had issued him the invitation to join us there. You are pushing me at the man. Why?”

“Don’t ask these questions.”

Pippa crossed her arms tightly. “You do not want me as your brother’s wife. I can think of no other reason.”

“No!”
Justine rested her brow on Pippa’s shoulder and said faintly, “I am not certain I know my brother at all. I have known him all his life, yet he is a stranger to me. You came to us only weeks since, and already I feel I could not bear to part with you.”

“Then
explain
yourself.”

Justine lifted her face. She put the finishing touches to Pippa’s hair and stepped away. “I cannot express in words what I cannot think clearly. I can only tell you that I
feel
that Calum Innes is…He is not what he appears. That should frighten me, but it doesn’t.”

“Nor me,” Pippa whispered. “But I do not know
what
he is, or why he is here.”

“Don’t you?” Justine smiled over her shoulder at Pippa.
“Don’t
you know why?”

Fear, deep, burning fear, tore through Pippa. “It cannot be. The duke would kill him.”

“He might try.”

“I cannot allow it.”

“You cannot change fate.”

Pippa went to the window seat and pushed open diamond-paned windows. Sun warmed the morning air, and on the highest branches of a tulip tree a speckle-breasted mistle thrush uttered its runs of fluty notes toward a pale blue sky.

When she had filled her lungs with crystal air, Pippa said, “Tell me what to do. Tell me how to send him away and accept my duty to the Franchots and my father without distaste.”

“None of this is in my power,” Justine responded. “And it is not in yours. You must not try to change what is meant to be.”

“We already know what is meant to be.”

“I suppose we do.” Justine’s uneven steps were more noticeable since she’d knelt on the floor to examine the hem of the poppy-colored dress. She limped to the window and sat on the padded velvet seat. “The viscount is a handsome man, don’t you think?”

Pippa hid a smile. “Very handsome.” She had dared to hope that Justine might take more than a polite interest in Struan.

“I wonder how his wife died.”

These were the questions Pippa had expected and dreaded. “He did not say,” she told Justine, grateful it was the truth.

Justine looked thoughtful. “From the sound of those two dear children, she must have been beneath his station, yet I’ll be bound he would never say as much.”

“I could not say.”

“Ella and Max do not mention her.”

“No.”

“I do believe he is trying very hard to be both father and mother to them. Not an easy task.”

“No,” Pippa agreed. “Not at all an easy task.”

“Do you like the viscount?”

“I like him very much.”

Justine rested an arm beneath the open window and raised her face to sniff summer scents. “I have always counted honesty and courage the most important of all virtues.”

Pippa stared hard at the tulip tree’s trembling leaves. “Have you?”

“Oh, yes. The viscount is obviously most honest in confronting the world and he has the courage to do what honesty tells him is right. Many men would have parceled their motherless offspring off with relatives or left them in the hands of paid servants. Instead, his true heart accepts that he and only he can give his children the guidance they need.