Simply Forbidden (21 page)

L
isette cleared her throat. “Good morning, Papa.”

Her father looked over his morning paper and slowly put it down on the breakfast table. His hazel eyes, the image of her own, were cool and slightly guarded. “Good morning, Lisette.”

She gestured at the table. “May I sit down?”

“Of course. Would you like something to eat, some coffee perhaps?”

“No, thank you, I’ve already eaten.” Lisette studied her hands on the tablecloth. “I came to apologize.” He didn’t say anything so she had to look at him again and swallowed hard when she realized he wasn’t smiling. “I think I overreacted a little on my wedding day.”

“A little?”

She felt herself blush. “I believed you and Maman were interfering in my relationship with Gabriel.”

“We are your parents; we only wanted what was best for you.”

“And you decided Gabriel was the best thing for me?”

“You married him, Lisette,” he said gently.

“I married him because I wanted to, not because you or Christian or Maman decided I needed another keeper.”

He frowned. “I never thought that.”

She held his gaze. “Are you sure?”

“Obviously, I can’t speak for your mother, but I wanted you to be happy. When Christian assured us that you wanted to marry Swanfield, I was pleased to help him speed up the arrangements.” He hesitated. “If that was wrong of me, I apologize.”

“You probably think I am being ridiculous now. That I got what I wanted and that I should be happy about it.” Lisette clasped her hands together until her fingers hurt. “But I felt as if everyone had conspired behind my back, as if you didn’t trust me to make my own decisions.”

Philip covered her hands with one of his own. “Darling, you have to admit you’ve made some remarkably dubious decisions in the past.”

She glared at him. “As if anyone will ever allow me to forget them.”

“But then you must understand why we worry about you.”

“I’ve grown up. I’ve learned from my mistakes!”

He smiled at her. “I’m sure you have, but for us, you will always be our little girl.”

Lisette slowly stood up. “But I wasn’t your little girl, was I? I was growing up in a French orphanage with Christian without any parents. Your only ‘little girl’ was Emily.” She pushed in her chair. “Thank you for seeing me, Papa, and please, you are welcome to visit us at Swanfield House whenever you like.”

Philip stood up. “Lisette, don’t do this again.”

As she walked out she realized she was close to tears. Why on earth had she said that? Where had all that anger come from? And did her father really believe he had a right to dictate her life choices after being absent from it for eighteen years?

“Lis?”

She bumped into something solid and found herself staring helplessly at her twin. He took her by the hand and then glanced over his shoulder, where she sensed her father had just appeared.

“It’s all right, Philip. I’ll take care of this.” Before she had a chance to do anything but gape at him, Christian marched her up the stairs and into the suite he occasionally occupied. He guided her into a chair and knelt in front of her.

“What’s wrong, twin?” He lapsed into the colloquial Breton French only they understood.

Her eyes filled with tears and she shook her head. He handed her a handkerchief and waited while she cried. When she regained control, he was still there, waiting for her to look at him, waiting for her to share her problems with him, just like he had at the orphanage and during their first terrible year in London.

“I came to apologize and I lost my temper with Papa.”

“But at least you apologized.”

She winced. “Don’t try and make this into something amusing, something you can laugh about and walk away from.”

He frowned. “I was just trying to cheer you up. Of course I want to listen to you. What happened after you apologized?”

“Papa tried to explain why he had acted as he had, and I found myself getting angry.” She hesitated. “He suggested he had a right to care about me because I would always be his little girl. But he never knew me then, Christian, and neither did Maman.”

“Ah, I understand now.” He squeezed her knee. “
I
knew you.”

“You are the only one who did,” she whispered. “You are the only one who understands and yet you conspired with Gabriel to deceive me, too.”

“I know I did, love, and I would do it again.” When she opened her mouth to argue he held up his hand. “I’m your
twin. I wanted you to have the choice of marrying Swanfield without Maman and Philip being involved.
That’s
why I agreed to help him, and that’s why I agreed to pretend to come after you, so that if you did change your mind, you could, and only Swanfield and I would ever know about it.”

Lisette stared at him. “You’re suggesting you tried to protect me from
them
and not from Gabriel?”

“Of course.” He shrugged. “After you sent me away, I came back and assured our parents that all was well. If I’d returned with you, I wouldn’t have gone near them and nothing else would’ve happened.”

Lisette studied his face and saw only sincerity. She groaned. “Then perhaps I should go and apologize to Papa again.”

Christian stood up and brushed at the knees of his breeches. “Not necessarily.”

“What do you mean?”

“It doesn’t hurt our revered father and mother to have to think about you in a new light.”

“Are you suggesting I let them come to me?”

He shrugged. “Yes. Let them see you in your new home, with your new husband and social rank.”

Lisette shivered. “And what if I make a mull of this as well?”

“That’s Swanfield’s problem, isn’t it? Not theirs, and he seems more than happy to take you on.” His wicked grin flashed out. “And you won’t make a mess of it; I think you’ll surprise everyone.”

She stood up and hugged him hard. “Thank you, Christian.”

He folded her into his arms. “You’re welcome. And am I forgiven, too?”

She smiled up at him. “I think so.”

He kissed her forehead. “Good. Now set a date and invite everyone around to dinner at your new house. I’ll make sure that they all turn up.”

* * * 

Gabriel followed Mr. Brecon up the stairs and into his office and found William already there standing in front of the meager fire. He wore his army uniform, the buttons on his coat as brightly polished as his boots. His expression, however, was distinctly unfriendly.

“Good morning, Cousin,” William said. “Did you enjoy throwing my family out of your house?”

Inwardly, Gabriel groaned, even as he arranged his features into a polite expression. “I didn’t exactly throw them out. They had almost a week to leave. And by the way, I was glad to see that you weren’t living there with them.”

Mr. Brecon cleared his throat. “As to that, my lord, I can only apologize for not being aware that the house was inhabited …” Gabriel waved away the apology and focused his attention on William. William sat down heavily in the nearest chair. “I’m not quite that stupid. I told my father it was a bad idea when things were so unpleasant between us, but he refused to listen to me.”

Gabriel took the chair opposite William, leaving Mr. Brecon to scuttle behind his desk. “I understand that your parents have taken up residence in Half Moon Street.”

“Indeed they have.” William hesitated. “I didn’t realize you were to be married. My mother was quite shocked.”

Gabriel shrugged. “It was something of a surprise to me, too.”

William sat forward in his seat. “May I be so bold as to ask whom you married?”

“Miss Ross. You met her briefly at the St. Clares’ ball.”

“Ah … I wondered if that was who it was.”

Gabriel tensed as William drew in a breath. “Is there something wrong, cousin?”

William met his gaze. “You know what I’m like, Gabriel, my mouth tends to run away with me, so I apologize if I give offense. Are you aware of who Miss Ross really is?”

“I’m well aware of her parentage, William,” Gabriel said re-pressively.

William cleared his throat. “She is not exactly considered respectable. Last night at the officer’s club someone repeated some very unpleasant gossip about her and Lord Nash.”

Gabriel locked gazes with his cousin. “She is my wife and the new Countess of Swanfield. If you hear anyone else gossiping about her, please refer them to me. I would be delighted to disabuse them of any notions that she is not completely and utterly respectable.”

William turned pale. “Absolutely, cousin. I’ll be sure to do that. And may I wish you happy?”

Gabriel smiled. “You may. Now have you made any progress with your father?”

William patted his face with his handkerchief and stuffed it back into his pocket. “I believe I have. Mr. Sturges, the land steward who manages the Swanfield estates, is coming up to Town this week. I’ll arrange for you to meet him. He is very concerned about my father’s state of health.”

“That would be excellent, and as, strictly speaking, he is
my
land steward, no one can possibly object.”

“That’s true.” William sighed. “I asked him to bring the last three years’ accounts with him.”

“Even better.” Gabriel held out his hand. “I know this is hard for you, William, but I appreciate it.”

William stood up and shook his hand. “As I said, I’m a fool who often says far more than he should, but I can’t abide dishonesty. Even though my own father is involved, I can no longer stand by and condone his behavior.”

“Thank you.” Gabriel turned to Mr. Brecon. “You will let me know when Mr. Sturges arrives so that we can all meet?”

“Of course, my lord.” Mr. Brecon smiled and bowed.

Gabriel turned back to William. “Which club do you frequent these days, cousin?”

William looked resigned. “The Old Peninsular, of course.” He bowed. “Good morning, cousin.”

“Good morning, William.” Gabriel watched his cousin leave. “A club where I’m probably still not welcome. How convenient.” Gabriel sighed and knew he’d have to brazen it out anyway. There was no other option if he wanted to hear the gossip that had conveniently started up about his wife and maybe even ascertain the whereabouts of a certain Lord Nash.

Gabriel smiled at Lisette across the dinner table and finished the last of his wine.

“I have to go out this evening, do you mind?”

She contemplated him through the candlelight, her hazel eyes narrowed. “Where exactly are you going?”

“To visit some old army comrades of mine.”

“I thought you avoided those people.”

“Some of them. Others I still enjoy seeing.”

“You aren’t going to the pleasure house without me, are you?”

He quashed the peculiar thrill the thought of the pleasure house gave him and shook his head. “Not at all, why do you ask?”

She sighed and rested her chin on her hand. “Because I haven’t quite made up with my mother yet. And she might wonder why you are there without me.”

“I thought you were set on apologizing to your family today?”

“I got as far as my father and something he said made me angry so I ended up walking out again.”

He put down his glass. “What did he say?”

“It sounds absurd now, but he made some reference to my childhood and I found myself getting annoyed.”

“Because he wasn’t really involved with your life then, was he? I’d say you had a right to be angry about that.” He nodded at her. “About time, too, I’d say.”

“You make it sound as if you approve of what I did.”

“I do.”

“Because I got angry?”

“Yes.”

“But I don’t get angry. I leave that to Christian. I completely understand why my parents couldn’t be with me.”

He shrugged. “Maybe you do now, but when you were a child? I don’t think you ever forgive your parents for forsaking you.”

“Just because you haven’t, you mean?”

He stood up. “What?”

She looked up at him, her face composed. “You haven’t forgiven your father for creating you in such an appalling manner, have you? And what about your mother? You never even talk about her.”

He shoved back his chair. “Good night, wife.”

“Where are you going? We haven’t finished our conversation yet.”

He strode toward the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow at breakfast. Sleep well.”

“Gabriel Swanfield …”

He ignored her, collected his hat, cloak, and gloves from Keyes at the front door, and stepped out into the night. He was quite happy to discuss Lisette’s parents with her, but God help her if she wanted to discuss his. He was aware he was being unfair, but he didn’t care. Rage and shame coalesced in his stomach and he fought them down. Better to preserve his energy for the potential confrontation ahead.

He mounted Wellington and nodded at Mather to fall in behind him. Paul St. Clare was waiting for him at his old lodgings. They would brave the horrors of the Old Peninsular club together.

Paul hesitated as they approached the double stained-glass doors of the club and turned to Gabriel. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Unfortunately, I have no choice. I refuse to have my wife’s name bandied about in any club, let alone this one.”

“All right then.” Paul sighed. “But don’t blame me if someone takes offense at your presence. I’m not the best man to have beside you in a fight.”

Gabriel smiled. “I don’t know, Paul. You learned to fight well enough in that prison cell we occupied.”

“But, alas, not quite like a gentleman.”

“We’re alive, aren’t we? Many of our fellow inmates weren’t so lucky.”

Paul’s expression darkened. “That’s true. I remember that first night when they brought you in all bloody and beaten.”

“And I remember the way those bastards descended on me and stripped me clean before you and a couple of the other men saved my neck.”

“And your arse,” Paul added.

Gabriel shuddered. “And that—although by the time I recovered from my fever, I was willing to trade anything just for some clothes and water.”

Paul opened the door into the club and nodded at the doorman. “As you said, we survived. Let’s hope we can survive this far more civilized form of torture.”

When they entered the main oak-paneled room, a sudden hush fell over the thirty or so occupants. Paul smiled in a general way and walked over to the far corner of the main salon, where they would get the best view of who came in and out.