Seduction (34 page)

“You are genuinely in love,” Michel remarked. “What happened? Why are you upset—no, angry with her? Is that why you never smile anymore?”

He met his friend’s gaze. “She betrayed me. A Jacobin agent in London threatened to hurt her mother and her sister. They both live alone in Cornwall, and the mother is dim-witted. Julianne went through my things. She gave Marcel the information he wished for her to find.”

“Why didn’t she go to you for help?”

“She did not know how to reach Marcel. He made sure of that. So I wouldn’t be able to stop him from attacking her family.” In that moment, Dominic realized his anger had prevented him from fully considering and empathizing with her predicament. Marcel would have hurt or even murdered either Amelia or her mother. Of that, he had no doubt.

And he had been so angry he hadn’t given a damn.

Michel said softly, “You should forgive her, my friend. She was in a terrible dilemma. Of course she would protect her innocent sister and her addled mother. You should forgive her and hunt down Marcel and destroy him for daring to use your woman against you. He is the one you must hate.”

Dominic began to tremble. He could never hate Julianne!

She had to have been so afraid. Hadn’t he seen how nervous and anxious she had been in the days before he had discovered her treachery? Was it even treachery? She loved him. He knew it. He hadn’t doubted her love before she had gone through the locked drawer, and he hadn’t doubted it after discovering what she had done. What he had done was retreat into cold fury, seeing only her betrayal, refusing to see anything else, refusing to listen to any excuse or explanation.

And suddenly he imagined the extent of what she had been living through, being threatened and blackmailed by Marcel, being forced to betray him in order to protect her sister and mother. Suddenly he had an answer to the question,
Why?

She had
needed
him. But he had not been there for her....

“I still love her,” he said. “I miss her.”

“Good,” Michel cried, smiling as he slapped his shoulder. “Then you will go to London, speak to Windham and reconcile with the beautiful Julianne. You are as French as I am, in your soul, Dominic. You must know as well as I that love should never be denied.”

J
ULIANNE
STOOD
BESIDE
the open front door of the house, facing Nadine, stunned. She had written Nadine again, explaining why she had betrayed Dom. But she had posted that last letter over a month ago. “I am glad to see you,” she tried, somehow smiling.

Nadine hesitated. “I received both of your letters, Julianne. May I come inside? It is bitterly cold today.” She smiled impersonally.

Julianne stepped aside so Nadine could come in. She shut the door, aware that Nadine wasn’t warm—but she didn’t seem hateful, either. On the other hand, she could not imagine Nadine behaving in any way other than an exemplary one, no matter the circumstance.

Garret had followed her to the front door, and Julianne turned. “Would you please put on tea?”

He went to do her bidding. Momma was napping and Amelia was in town.

Julianne could not contain herself. “Have you heard from Dominic? How is he? Is he alive?” she cried, trembling.

“I haven’t heard from him, Julianne, not since he said goodbye when he was leaving London.”

Tears arose. She had been worrying about Dominic ceaselessly and she cried so easily now. It was the child, of course. “Do you know if he is alive?” she managed.

Nadine slowly said, “Of course he is alive. If he were dead, we would certainly learn of the terrible news.”

Was she right? Julianne hugged herself. Because it was so cold, even in the house, no matter how many fires, she wore a shawl. She was beginning to show, just a little bit, but the shawl concealed her full bosom and protruding abdomen.

Nadine wasn’t looking, though, as she took off her gloves and coat, the hood fur-lined. Julianne took the coat and hung it on a wall peg by the front door as Nadine said quietly, “You really do love him.”

Julianne whirled. “I am so afraid for his life!”

Nadine inhaled. “I didn’t know what to think, Julianne, when Catherine told me about what you had done. I asked Dominic, but he wouldn’t discuss it with me. In fact, his reaction to my questions merely affirmed what I had already learned—that he genuinely loved you.”

“He hates me now.”

“I am not sure about that,” Nadine said softly. “But he is hurt and he feels betrayed. He
was
betrayed.”

Julianne did not intend to defend herself another time. She gestured at the chairs before the roaring fire. Nadine smiled briefly and walked ahead of her. Julianne followed. “So it is a good sign, that at least we haven’t heard bad news?”

“Yes, it is a good sign. It isn’t safe for him to correspond with anyone here.” Nadine faced her.

“Is there any more war news? I heard about the battle at Cholet.”

Nadine shrugged, and she was grim now. “It was a terrible defeat, but even worse, Jacquelyn laid siege to Granville and failed. During the retreat, his columns became severely extended. The stragglers were attacked by the republicans. Thousands more died.”

Julianne cried out and her shawl slipped from her shoulders. “I am sure Dom was in that battle!”

Nadine’s eyes went wide as she stared at her round belly.

Julianne stroked the hard contour. “It will soon be common knowledge. I am carrying Dom’s child,” she said proudly.

Nadine looked up and met her gaze, shocked. “Does he know?”

“No.”

“He must know—Catherine must know.” She began to cry. “Oh, Julianne, this is the best news I have received since Dominic left. It is wonderful!” And she hugged her, hard.

Julianne felt relief flood her. “I don’t know if Dom will be pleased—”

Nadine cut her off. “He will be thrilled. He loves you, in spite of what happened, and he will love this child.” She smiled. “My mind is made up. I am staying in Cornwall for the rest of the winter, so we will be neighbors. I will write Catherine immediately, inviting her to visit.”

Julianne tensed.

Nadine patted her hand. “She has to know, Julianne. Trust me, she will be pleased. This is the most precious gift you could give her.” Her smile faded.

And Julianne realized what she meant. If Dominic did not come home, he had a child to carry on for him.

J
ULIANNE
STOOD
AT
THE
kitchen window, staring outside. The day was gray and blustery, the trees wind-whipped. Beyond the barren front lawns and the pale drive, she glimpsed the frothing ocean. Yet she really didn’t see any of the gray day; instead, she saw Dominic, standing in the front hall of Bedford House in all his splendid finery. His eyes were warm as they met hers and she was holding their newborn baby....

“Julianne? You will catch a chill at that window,” Lady Paget said, taking her elbow. And her green eyes were filled with concern.

Lady Paget had arrived a week ago, with several bags. True to her word, Nadine had written to her, telling her about the child. Catherine hadn’t minced words when Julianne had first let her into the house.

“I am aware of your condition, Miss Greystone,” she had said, “and in spite of all that has happened, it is a blessing. I am here to mend fences with you.”

Julianne had been in some shock, enough so that she had been speechless. Amelia had rushed to the rescue, greeting Catherine, apologizing for the state of the manor, offering her tea and having her bags removed to their single guest chamber.

Catherine had brought Nancy and her own ladies’ maid with her, while Nadine called every day, often with her sisters. And the manor’s halls were suddenly filled with feminine chatter, warmth and laughter....

A routine emerged. The women would take walks together, then read to one another in the salon. The Dowager Countess would take up her embroidery when Julianne sat down to read the weekly journals or retired for a nap. And then there was the new piano.

When Catherine realized that there were no musical instruments in the house, and that Julianne had once played the piano, she had a beautiful instrument delivered to the house. It had been put in the great room, not far from the hearth. Julianne played every afternoon.

Her audience quickly expanded. The six women would crowd her as she played, while Garret, Nancy, Jeanne and their stable boy would stop their chores to steal into the house and listen. Soon, the Comte D’Archand began to appear in the later afternoons for tea, bringing his violin to play with her....

But there was no news from Dom.

Winter had arrived. She knew that the La Vendée royalists had never been resupplied by the British. Nadine and Catherine discussed the dire straits Jacquelyn was in constantly. They always did so behind closed doors, not wanting to worry Julianne, but Julianne eavesdropped shamelessly. Like her, they were worried about Dom.

It was so cold in Cornwall. Was it snowing in France? Was Dom on a frozen battlefield somewhere? Did he spend his night shivering in a canvas tent? Or was he immersed in espionage in Nantes or Paris, eluding the Jacobins and their agents on every street corner? Why didn’t he write!

“Julianne, I think it is time for an outing,” Catherine said firmly, interrupting her dismal thoughts. “We will go into Penzance for lunch and shopping.”

Julianne faced her. She had begun daydreaming almost constantly. Worry over Dom’s safety vied with her dreams of a future with him and their child. “I am not sure that is a good idea,” Julianne began, but she was suddenly intrigued. She had been in hiding at the manor, for what felt like an eternity, and she was eager to get out.

Catherine knew, for she smiled. “You cannot hide from society for much longer, my dear. And I will protect you.”

Tears filled her eyes. Once, Catherine had been her enemy. In the past week, she had become both a friend and an ally.

Catherine smiled and said, “I am going to go upstairs and change my gown. Why don’t you do so, as well? It will be a lovely outing, but we must dress warmly. Some social intercourse will be good for you.”

She knew that she had been standing at the window, thinking of Dom—and dreaming of him. Julianne nodded. When Catherine had left, she reached for the counter and leaned against it. She desperately needed to get out of the house, but what she really needed was word from Dom.

And an image flashed of her and Dominic, sitting together in the great salon at Bedford House, smiling warmly at one another, a little boy toddling about the room.

Catherine had forgiven her, and she couldn’t help hoping that Dominic would one day return and do the same. Still, she knew it was so dangerous to have such dreams.

She could hear Amelia and Nadine conversing in the hall. She was about to go upstairs and change into something far warmer, when she heard a horse whinny outside.

It was too early for the Comte to call. Julianne suddenly felt a chill tingle from the nape of her neck all the way down to the base of her spine.
Dominic
.

She felt him so strongly. Afraid she was losing her mind, she whirled. It had started to flurry outside. A big bay hack was there, the rider dismounting, his cloak swinging. His back was to her. All she could see was his dark hair, pulled into a queue beneath a bicorne hat, but she froze.

Dominic had come home.
The rider turned and she saw him clearly through the window. It was Dominic.

Julianne seized her skirts and ran into the hall, then threw open the front door. Dominic was striding toward the house and their gazes met. He faltered.

She froze. But her heart thundered. “You’re alive.”

He had paused. “Julianne.”

And her mind came to life. She had betrayed him. He had left her. But he had returned from France and he was standing just outside her front door!

And then he started to run to her, his face a mask of anguish and determination. In that instant, Julianne knew she was forgiven. She rushed into his arms and he lifted her high and whirled her, then set her down and held her, hard. “Julianne!” he cried, crushing her in his arms.

“You survived!” she wept.

“I survived,” he said, rocking her. He kissed her temple, her hair. “Julianne, I have missed you so much. I am so sorry I sent you away!”

She clung to the lapels of his cloak and looked up into his eyes. She was shocked because they were filled with unshed tears. She saw so many shadows there, a darkness left by the war. “I have missed you, too. Betraying you almost killed me. I hated doing so, Dom, but I was so afraid for Momma and Amelia!”

“I know.” He took her chin, tilted it up and kissed her, hard and desperately.

And Julianne felt the depth and extent of his anguish then. She let him kiss her for a long, long time, so afraid of what he had suffered. She held his broad shoulders, while tears streamed down his face. But he did not make a sound.

She clasped his cheek. What horrors had he lived through? How could she help him heal? “I love you.”

“I need you,” he said hoarsely, in return.