Love Lessons at Midnight (23 page)

Breathing as if he had run a long race, Rob stepped back. “That is the first sensible thing you’ve said since you stepped in here. What we must do now is find a way to fashion you yet another identity.”

“Impossible,” she said, letting the anguish show through on her face, in her voice as she paced across the floor, placing distance between them.

“Perhaps I have the perfect solution,” a thick Frenchaccented voice purred. Jenette stepped inside the room with a cat-in-cream smile on her face.

J
eni, no!” Amber said. She disliked the devilish gleam in Jenette’s eyes.

“Please come in, m’lady,” Rob said, offering her a chair. He took Amber’s hand and drew her to sit beside him on the sofa.

“Please forgive my eavesdropping, but for a moment, I did not feel it wise to interrupt,” she said with a sly smile.

Amber blushed like a schoolgirl, but Rob asked, “What would you suggest?”

“That Amber assume
my
identity.”

“Masquerade as a French émigré? I am English, born and bred,” Amber protested incredulously. “My family—”

“Your father is dead, your mother a recluse, and your brother has fled to Scotland to escape his debts.” Jenette shook her head and sighed, looking at the earl. “At times she has the wooden head.” Ignoring Amber’s snorted protest, she continued. “You have the ear—your French is perfect,
ma coeur.
My code name during the war was the Dark Angel, and the Englishman at Whitehall to whom I reported was called Charon.”

Rob’s eyebrows lifted. “Rather mixed theology, but I believe I understand where you’re leading,” he said with a grin.

“
Bien.
” Jenette nodded. “You will both go to France. I will accompany Amber, but you shall travel separately, m’lord. There, with my help, you will write to Charon,
ma petite.
Although he does not know mine, I have learned his name—Lord Hillsborough. In this letter you will inform him that you
are Lady Collette Solange de Beaurivage, known to him as the Dark Angel.”

“Your cousin, b-but she is dead,” Amber said, horrified.

“
Oui
, she is,” Jenette agreed sadly. “But no one here knows that. You will explain that you were sent to England for an education as a small child and remained until you were old enough to return home. When your family was killed by the Tyrant, you became an agent for the English.”

“Surely this Hillsborough will know ′tis a hum.”

“He is a man,
oui
? He knows only what I allow him to know.”

Rob sat forward. “No one in England has ever seen the Dark Angel, have they?”

“
Non.
You,
ma petite
, with my help, will feed Hillsborough bits of information that only the Dark Angel could know…and he will eat it up like the greedy gosling. If ever anyone asks questions, Whitehall must admit that you are French nobility and a heroine of the war.”

“I see your plan,” Rob said, warming to the clever idea. “We shall marry in Paris and return home. I will call you Amber because of your beautiful golden eyes.”

Amber felt those eyes welling up with tears. Could this impossible scheme work? “I want so desperately to agree…”

“Then do! We are getting married,” he said, clasping her hands in his.

“What of your mother? We cannot deceive her, Rob.”

“I shall send for her to be present at the wedding in France. Of course, once we return, she will insist upon a proper Anglican ceremony,” he said chuckling. “We will explain why you were forced to hide from Eastham until his death. As to where you hid…in time, we’ll tell her that as well. She will accept it.”

Amber sighed in relief, realizing that Abigail would indeed understand. “I would never lie to your mother…but
would it be too awkward to have Grace present, too? She has been like a mother to me.”

“We shall include everyone you wish, my love, Sir Burleigh, even the sergeant major,” Rob replied.

“Then all is settled,” Jenette said, rising. “Now I shall tell Bonnie to begin packing for a trip to Paris.”

When she had closed the door, Rob turned to Amber and said, “The gossips will think it terribly romantic that an English earl married a mysterious French noblewoman while visiting Paris.”

“We must wait until after this Hillsborough agrees that I am the Dark Angel before we dare marry, Rob. I will not burden you—”

He kissed her gently, shushing her. “Have you always been so dutiful and self-sacrificing, my love?”

“I have never thought of myself that way, merely as…a survivor. I must tell you about Amber Leighigh. Perhaps, once you know all my dark secrets, you’ll change your mind about making me your countess.”

He caressed her cheek with his hand and smiled gently. “I feel some splinters from that wooden head,” he teased. “Amber, my love, nothing in your past will deter me from marrying you. But ′tis only fair that you should tell me everything that has made you who you are since I have confessed all of my dark secrets to you.”

Amber took a deep, shaky breath. “Very well, let me begin with Edgar Hull.”

“You were more than justified in killing the blighter after he took you to Eastham.”

“There is more. Hull and I grew up on adjoining estates. The second son of an impoverished baron, he hoped to wed me for my dowry.” She gave a mirthless little laugh. “I refused his suit just before my father sent me to London. I was instructed to find a wealthy husband during my come-out.
Hull enlisted a few of his drunken friends to kidnap me from the carriage on the road to the city.”

“He intended to rape you and then your father would be forced to allow his suit.” Rob wanted to kill Hull himself…slowly.

“The taking of my maidenhead was reserved for Wolverton,” she said bitterly. “Edgar had a penchant for strong spirits. When we reached the tawdry inn where he intended to do the deed, I encouraged him to drink several bottles of port. He passed out before he could touch me and I climbed out an upper window while his companions celebrated belowstairs.”

“Always clever and resourceful, my love,” Rob said warmly.

She returned his smile, but then it faded. “When I came home…”

“Your father considered you ruined anyway,” he supplied. “But what of your mother? Surely—”

“My mother despised me since the day I was born. I ruined her figure when she carried me, and then I had the exceeding bad grace to be born female. She had to have a second child, who to her relief was a boy. My father then returned his attention to mistresses and horse racing. My mother, having done her duty, retreated to her private quarters, where she has drunk herself stuporous ever since.”

“If I did not already consider myself blessed with a wonderfully happy childhood, this would convince me of my great good fortune,” Rob said, waiting to see if she wanted to continue while he rubbed her back gently.

“The scandal of my abortive ‘elopement’ with Edgar Hull became the talk of Durham. My father was desperate to rid himself of me but would never consider the wastrel Hull. He cast about for someone who needed to buy a wife—even if she were
ruined.
”

“Eastham.”

“Just so. I was packed off to Northumberland and the nightmare began.” She shivered in revulsion.

“Even if I had not heard of his evil reputation, just seeing you in that torture chamber would be enough to make me want to kill him all over again.”

“I have the consolation of knowing that he will answer for his sins in the next life,” Amber said fervently. “After months of enduring his brutal rapes, I still did not conceive. He called me barren and worthless. Often he beat me until I could scarcely move. When I overheard him and Mrs. Greevy discussing whether or not to poison me, I knew I must flee. Late that night after he had left my bed, I took the household money Elvira had hidden and a horse from the stable.

“I made it south to Durham before the poor beast gave out, but I knew my family would not help, so I walked the rest of the way to London, stopping at remote inns for bits of food and sleep. Foolishly, I believed once here that I could find decent employment as a governess. I had a good education because of my brother’s tutor. Although Chandler was not interested in his lessons, I was eager to learn. Perhaps the old man, Mr. Quinlen, took pity on me…”

“In spite of a formidable education, you found no work in London without references.” Rob had seen enough desperate young women on the streets. It explained why Fantasia took in so many unfortunates.

“I had used up all the money from Wolf’s Gate by then and lost my lodging. Grace found me walking aimlessly in Eastcheap and had her driver pull over.”

“She treated you as her own daughter,” he said, remembering how intent Mrs. Winston had been when she told him that Amber had never been a courtesan. He knew she had told the truth.

“She had rescued many young women, but only those who wished to become courtesans did so. The others she found
respectable work for, but I was different. None of them were pursued by Eastham. She sent me abroad, hoping that he would give up and assume me dead. I studied in Florence and Bern for a year, then went to Paris for two more. I always had an affinity for languages. I could pass as French during the war—that is, until I ran afoul of Fouche.”

“Napoleon’s head of secret police?”

“Although I did not suspect, one of the women with whom I roomed was a royalist sympathizer. She was found out and quickly executed, along with two other poor innocent girls who shared our small apartment. I was scheduled to die next, but Jenette and her associates rescued me. She smuggled me out of France at great risk and brought me back to Grace. When the war ended, Jeni returned to London, where Grace offered her employment as my bodyguard.

“Since Wolverton remained a threat, I became Lady Fantasia, never allowing patrons to see my face, hiding behind widow’s weeds when I left the safety of this place with Jeni at my side.”

“Gaby’s childhood—it was Jenette’s, wasn’t it?” he asked, certain of the answer after she had described her own bitter upbringing.

“Yes, her father was a baron with an estate in the south of France. He was much beloved by his people. Her family remained intact in spite of the violence across the countryside during the revolution. But when Napoleon came to power, that changed. Their land and fortune were confiscated and they all died in prison. Jeni was the only one to escape.”

“I can see why she became a spy for our country.”

“Without her I would have no new identity. I could not marry you,” Amber said.

He lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. “We
are
going to Paris and you
will
become my wife. For that I will be forever in her debt.” He lowered his mouth to hers and bestowed a soft kiss on her lips.

Amber returned it and their ardor grew until a quick rap on the door interrupted and Bonnie asked, “Is it all right for me to start packin’, m’lady?”

“A capital idea. The sooner we reach Paris, the sooner we can be married,” Rob whispered to Amber.

“Yes, Bonnie, please do come in and begin the packing. We shall be gone for a long time,” she said, smiling at her earl.

Paris, France

After sending the letter Jenette composed to “Charon” in Whitehall, several anxious weeks passed before Hillsborough replied. His Majesty’s grateful government would be honored to welcome Lady Collette Solange de Beaurivage, also known as the Dark Angel. Rob immediately arranged passage for Abigail, and Amber sent for Grace and an entourage of friends.

As the earl had predicted, his mother readily accepted the partial story of Amber’s past and the need for her to assume a new identity. Now that she was really a widow, she was free to become Robert’s countess. No one was more delighted than Abigail that her son had found such a suitable bride. As Rob had also predicted, she asked that they have a quiet Anglican ceremony with all their family present. Both Rob and Amber readily agreed.

The day Amber and Jenette visited the modiste for a final fitting on her wedding gown, Jenette waited until the seamstress left them alone in the dressing room, then said, “I have something to tell you,
ma petite.
You must promise to be happy for me,
oui
?”

Amber took her friend’s hand in hers and tugged her over to a small settee. “What is it, Jeni? You have seemed…preoccupied ever since we arrived.”

“
Oui,
I have been. You see, I have brought with me a map given to me by
mon pere
before he died.” She paused to compose
herself as Amber placed a consoling arm around her shoulder. “This map, it will show me where he buried all he could of our family’s treasures before those pigs took us. I am going to find my birthright.”

Amber realized why Jenette looked so apprehensive. “You will remain here in France then, won’t you?”

Jenette shrugged. “For a time. You see, I will have arrangements to make. Buried with the family’s heirlooms is a list of banks in England where
Pere
had funds transferred when he saw the upheavals coming. He invested wisely in many things over the years. He promised me that I would be a very rich woman when I laid claim to the money—and I swore to him that I would use it to help any of our faithful tenants and servants who survived.”

“Very well. But now you must swear to me that you will come visit us as soon as you are able,” Amber said, hugging her friend.

Jenette smiled. “But of course! I must return to England to become ‘a very rich woman,’
oui
?”

“You will visit often,” Amber insisted.

“You are the sister of my heart, Amber, the only family I have left. Besides,” she added with a big smile, “I must come to spoil all of those beautiful
bebes
you and your earl will make!”

“
Oui
, Aunt Jeni,” Amber said, hugging her dearest friend.

Rob raised his flute of champagne to his new bride, and the crystal chimed magically when hers touched it. They stood before a large window overlooking the Seine in the lavish suite where they would spend the next week.

All the wedding guests had gone off to celebrate elsewhere, leaving them alone. By mutual agreement, they had not made love before the crossing or after they were reunited in Paris. This would be their first time without secrets, each knowing the other’s true identity and accepting it, a joining
so special that Rob and Amber agreed it must wait until they were married.

“Ever since the first time I saw your beautiful face unveiled, I have wanted to make love to you in daylight,” he said.

“Does this mean no more love lessons at midnight?” she asked, setting aside her half-finished champagne.