Surrender to a Stranger (35 page)

Lady Fairfax looked at her in confusion. “What do you mean, you sent him?”

Jacqueline raised her eyes to her. “I hired Armand to rescue someone for me,” she explained, her voice heavy with guilt.

Lady Fairfax appeared dumbfounded. “You
hired
him?”

Jacqueline nodded miserably. “At first he did not want to take the job. I am afraid I did not have enough money to cover his fee. But we worked out an agreement that was acceptable to both of us.” She should never have agreed to his terms. At the time his price had seemed inordinately high. But now she could see that the exchange had been far from even. Her virginity in return for his life. What on earth had she been thinking of?

Lady Fairfax frowned in confusion. “That is completely unlike Armand,” she remarked, shaking her head. “He has always performed these rescues because he wanted to help people. It was his own personal war with the revolutionary government of France. I have never known him to charge anyone.”

“But he was hired by Sir Edward to go to France and rescue me,” protested Jacqueline.

Lady Fairfax looked shocked. “Did Sir Edward tell you that?” she demanded.

“No,” admitted Jacqueline. Suddenly she was not quite sure when she first knew that Armand had been hired to save her. She thought back to the first night she met him, when they shared a room and a bed in that small Paris inn. “After Armand rescued me from the Conciergerie, I asked him if he was the one they call the Black Prince,” she recalled, “and he told me he was merely a man of business and that I was a package he had agreed to deliver. He was quite open about it,” she finished matter-of-factly.

Lady Fairfax smiled, apparently relieved by her explanation. “And do you think, Mademoiselle de Lambert, that if the man who had just saved your life was indeed the Black Prince, he would be foolish enough to admit such a thing to a young, terrified stranger, when you were both on the run and in such grave danger of being captured?”

Jacqueline stared at her in disbelief. Was she saying Armand was the legendary Black Prince? Impossible. From the moment he met her, he made it clear she was a parcel to be delivered, and nothing more. And he certainly was not any great admirer of the French aristocracy. If anything, he was infuriatingly sympathetic to the cause of those bloodthirsty revolutionaries. He had argued their side to her many times. Why then would he risk his life to go to France and save members of the French nobility, if not for the money?

“He made it quite clear that he did not want to go to France and rescue my betrothed, the Marquis de Biret, who was falsely accused and imprisoned,” pointed out Jacqueline. “The Black Prince has saved scores of men, women, and children from imprisonment and death in France, and not once has there been the slightest suggestion that he was doing it for monetary reward. Many of the people he has saved have no money left, and could not possibly pay him even if they wanted to. Armand not only demanded payment from me, but he wanted it in advance, in case anything happened to him and he was not able to complete his mission. Now, does that sound like the conduct of the Black Prince?”

“I cannot imagine why he would have wanted payment,” commented Lady Fairfax. “Armand is an exceptionally clever investor, and as you undoubtedly realized when you went to his home, he is extremely wealthy. I can, however, understand why he might have been reluctant to go to France and rescue the man you plan to marry,” she murmured thoughtfully as she studied Jacqueline.

“Why?” demanded Jacqueline.

Lady Fairfax smiled. “I think perhaps you know the answer to that better than I.”

A warm blush swept across Jacqueline’s cheeks. “I am afraid I don’t know what you mean, Lady Fairfax,” she stammered, feeling enormously uncomfortable with the direction the conversation had taken. “My relationship with your brother is one of business, nothing more.”

“It would please me a great deal if you would call me Madeleine,” Armand’s sister returned gently, obviously not convinced. “And I should be very honored to call you Jacqueline.”

Jacqueline nodded silently. Madeleine took almost the same care with her name as Armand did when he said it, stretching out the sounds as if they were a lush piece of music, and Jacqueline was filled with a painful longing. Until this moment she had not realized how much she missed hearing Armand say her name.

“So you believe my brother risks his life to save people he does not know for money,” summarized Madeleine, her tone clearly indicating how ludicrous she thought this idea was. “I take it then that Armand has not told you about his past?”

“He has told me about your parents, and how your grandfather refused to accept your father because he was untitled, forcing your mother to renounce her title and her ties to her family in France,” returned Jacqueline. “I suppose that explains his contempt for the French aristocracy and his sympathy for the ideals of the new Republic,” she finished thoughtfully, surprised that she had not pieced this together earlier.

“But has he told you anything about himself?” persisted Madeleine.

“He told me about how he used to drink to excess,” Jacqueline replied matter-of-factly, unwilling to let Armand’s sister think that this mattered in the least to her, “and now he will not touch a single drop.”

“Did he tell you why he does not drink anymore?”

“Yes,” answered Jacqueline. “He stopped because some people were killed and Armand blames himself, but I simply cannot believe that he ever would have done anything to bring harm to anyone.”

Madeleine smiled sadly before asking, “Jacqueline, do you have any idea who those people were?”

“No,” she admitted. “But it does not matter. Whatever happened, I cannot believe Armand was responsible.”

“Armand was married,” began Madeleine in a quiet voice, “and his wife was killed.”

“Married?” gasped Jacqueline in disbelief.

Madeleine nodded.

There was silence between the two of them as Jacqueline struggled to absorb this piece of information. Armand had been married. Of course. It made sense. After all, Armand was a handsome, wealthy man, and many beautiful women had undoubtedly chased after him, Laura Harrington included. Obviously one had captured his heart, and he married her. “He must have loved her very much,” she reflected in a small, hollow voice, “to have named his ship after her.”

“I believe he did love Lucette very much,” remarked Madeleine.

“Lucette?” repeated Jacqueline blankly. “But who is Angélique?” She wondered if Armand had named his ship after a mistress.

“Angélique was his daughter,” replied Madeleine softly. “And she was also killed.”

“His daughter?” whispered Jacqueline, her voice thin and small. Her mind swirled back to the night she spent on
The Angélique.
She remembered going through Armand’s chest, ostensibly looking for a comb, but in reality searching for clues that might reveal something about the man who had risked his life to rush in and snatch her away from death. And suddenly she remembered the lacquer box hidden at the very bottom of the chest, which held a pastel wreath of satiny ribbons and a tiny white handkerchief embroidered with the initials
ASJ.
At the time she had assumed the box held tokens given to him by a mistress, and found the sweet sentimentality of the articles incongruous with the unyielding, impatient, methodical man she knew as Citizen Julien. She realized the blue and cream and pink lengths of satin were for a little girl’s hair, and the tiny square of linen and lace was meant for the sleeve of an elegant little dress. Those dainty scraps of fabric had belonged to Angélique St. James. Armand had named his ship after his daughter. And he held himself responsible for her death.

“What happened to them?” whispered Jacqueline.

“They were arrested in France, along with my mother, and charged with being émigrés, spies, and enemies of the Republic,” replied Madeleine, her voice strained. “And they were guillotined.”

“Oh my God,” breathed Jacqueline, unable to contain her horror. And then, before she realized how accusing her words sounded, she demanded, “How could Armand have possibly let that happen?”

“It is strange,” remarked Madeleine tautly, “but that is the same question all of London society asked, and continues to ask, as if they somehow believe that Armand had it in his power to race in and stop the proceedings of the French justice system. And that is the question he constantly demands of himself, to the point where the need to avenge their deaths and show that he would have died to save them if he could has completely taken over his life.”

“I am sorry,” apologized Jacqueline, realizing how insensitive her question had been. “I did not mean to insinuate that Armand was responsible for their deaths.” She thought back to Viscount Preston’s open contempt toward Armand at the Fleetwoods’ ball. Obviously there were those who did believe he was responsible and did not hesitate to let him know it.

Madeleine sighed. “The problem is, Armand believes he is responsible for their deaths. That is why he sends himself on these dangerous missions. Part of him is extracting vengeance from the government that murdered his family, by snatching away other helpless victims right out from under their noses. But another part of him is taunting death, running just one step ahead of it and daring it to try to take him as well. He feels that if he could not have saved his family, then he should have gone to France and died with them. Quite simply, he no longer cares if he lives or dies. I suppose for a long time that attitude has helped him, because it enables him to take outrageous chances that fortunately have been successful.”

“Why did he not go to France and try to help them?” asked Jacqueline.

“Because,” said Madeleine slowly, “he did not know they were there.”

Jacqueline looked at her in confusion. “But how could he not know where his wife and child were?”

Madeleine sighed. “Although Armand loved Lucette, I am afraid that for her, it was not the happiest of marriages. You see, Armand was something of a rake as a young man. All he wanted to do was enjoy himself. He was hopelessly irresponsible and a heavy drinker, which infuriated my father and worried my mother. It was as if he simply did not want to grow up and settle down. Even after father died, and the business of managing the St. James investments fell to him, Armand refused to take it seriously. He loved traveling, drinking, gambling, and women, and nothing anyone could say or do made him want to change.”

Jacqueline listened to this incredulously. The irresponsible, carefree man Armand’s sister was describing bore no resemblance to the man she knew.

“Armand met Lucette on a trip to France when he was in his late twenties,” continued Madeleine. “She was the daughter of a silk merchant who did a lot of business with the royal household at Versailles. Her family was untitled but quite wealthy. Lucette was very pretty and charming, and Armand loved to make conquests of pretty girls. After a few months they married and Armand brought her back to England and presented her to our mother, informing her that he and Lucette were going to have a child. My mother was pleased that Armand had married a French girl and was apparently going to settle down and be a proper husband and father.”

“What happened?”

Madeleine sighed. “At first, Armand tried to be a loving and devoted husband. Lucette told me that in the beginning he was very good to her, and loved to be at home with her. But after Angélique was born, Armand began to grow restless. He loved to be out with his friends, gambling and drinking until all hours of the morning. As a young mother, Lucette was often tired, and more importantly, she felt she should be home with her baby. Armand accepted this, but he did not believe such a sedate life applied to him. He quickly fell back into his old ways, drinking and womanizing, and disappearing for days at a time. Lucette was left on her own, to run the house, entertain, and raise their daughter.”

Jacqueline sadly shook her head. The marriage Madeleine was describing was not uncommon among the aristocracy. The men often believed that one married to secure heirs and have a gracious hostess to run the household. Fidelity was not an issue. “Why did Lucette return to France?”

“Like many wealthy members of the bourgeoisie who had provided services and luxuries to the now imprisoned royal family, Lucette’s father was denounced and arrested in the late autumn of 1792,” explained Madeleine. “Despite his bourgeois status he was accused of being a royalist, and a traitor to his country, because his daughter was an émigré. Lucette received word of this while Armand was away on one of his drinking and gambling binges. She had no idea where he was or whom he was with, since Armand never felt the need to tell her and she never asked. But the thought of her father in prison both frightened and infuriated her, and she decided not to wait until Armand’s return before taking action. She contacted my mother and informed her that she was going to France to try to help her father. My mother, erroneously believing that she could be of some assistance because of her former noble status, offered to travel with her. And at the last minute Lucette decided to take Angélique, who was only four and pleaded with her not to be left alone with the servants.”

“Oh my God,” whispered Jacqueline in horror. “How could they have been so foolish?”

“Neither Lucette nor my mother had any idea of how dangerous France had become,” replied Madeleine. “My mother had not set foot in France for years, and Lucette had left with Armand before the revolution. The information coming to England from France was often sketchy and confusing, so it is not entirely surprising that they did not anticipate they would come to any harm. If anything, Lucette believed that the revolution was being fought on behalf of men like her father, which of course in its early stages it was. All she could think was that her father needed her, and that he might be cheered by the sight of his only grandchild. I imagine they believed that two women traveling with a little girl would never be seen as a threat to the security of the new Republic.”

Of course not, thought Jacqueline. If they believed the world was fair and just, that there were laws to protect them, and that God was watching over them, then why wouldn’t they return to the land of their birth? Her heart was sickened by it. “When were they arrested?”