The Deception (7 page)

“About that, yes. Bassick likes to leave it in all its splendor. At least he moved the three epergnes so that we could see each other. Oh, yes, it occurred to me earlier when I was with my son that I don’t know your name.”

“De la Valette.”

“No, your given name.”

“It is Evangeline, your grace.”

“A lovely name, that.” She’d behaved just as she should during dinner, what with Bassick and the footmen hovering, speaking of mundane things that neither cared a farthing about. He matched her, never leaving any lurching pauses in the conversation, a coolly friendly host, not overly interested in either his dinner or in his guest.

“My mother selected it, she told me. She was older when she birthed me, and thus when I came, she thought I was a miracle. She said that Evangeline was her name of thanks for me.” She broke off, realizing that what she’d just said, she’d never told another person in her life. She just stared at him.

“When I was born, so my father told me later, my mother looked at me and said, ‘Saints be praised. Finally I have the heir.’ She’d had three miscarriages before she carried me.” “You were a miracle too.”

“When you meet my mother, you will have to ask her that.”

“I doubt that will happen,” she said, then sucked in her breath. She’d spilled a bit of Cook’s excellent gravy on the sleeve of her gown, her only gown fit for
evening wear. She quickly dabbed it with water and patted it dry. She had no other gown. It was highwaisted dark gray muslin, with no ruffles or lace or underskirts. At least it was one of hers, not one that Houchard or his damned mistress has selected. She looked down the table at him, the glow of soft candlelight making his black hair gleam, admiring his formal black evening wear and his stark white linen. Her child’s memories of seven years ago, frozen in time, hadn’t done the real man justice. He was magnificent, and of course he was well aware of that.

That made her smile. She looked to be exactly what she wanted him to believe. So they were both exactly right for what they wished to present to the world. “You are smiling at your glass of sherry.” “Oh, no, that smile had nothing to do with any libation.” “What did it have to do with?” “I will tell you the truth, your grace. I was thinking that the two of us very nicely suit exactly what we are.”

“I am a gentleman and you are a lady. I see nothing in that to make you smile. It wouldn’t make me smile. What would make me smile is a beautiful woman walking through that door wearing only sheer veils to tease me.”

“I doubt a gentleman would say that. He would think it but hardly say it. Isn’t that true? Veils?”

“Let me say that my mother would probably prefer that I only think of such things. That way she wouldn’t have to act all flustered. Although now that I think about it, I seem to remember my parents laughing when they didn’t realize I was close by.”

“Laughter is an excellent thing. My father and mother laughed as well, and at the strangest times.”

“I know exactly what you mean. I remember seeing my father kiss my mother. He had her pressed against a wall, and he was kissing her thoroughly. It’s something I’ve never forgotten. Naturally, I didn’t understand at the time.” He paused a moment, then said low, “My father’s death has been difficult for her.” “And for you as well.”

“Yes. All my friends wanted to visit me simply because my father was the best of parents. He took to all my friends, treated them just as he should, made them want to be brave and solid and honorable.” A lump was in his throat. He hated it, but he couldn’t prevent it. He also couldn’t prevent speaking of his father, a man he believed to be the best father in all the world. He thought of Edmund and what he had missed by losing his grandfather. He shook his head. “Do you find your bedchamber satisfactory?”

“Very. I remember that Marissa had excellent taste. The bedchamber combines her favorite colors, light blue and cream.”

“I don’t know about Marissa’s taste. I have never set foot in her bedchamber.”

H
e’d never visited his wife’s bedchamber?

She started to open her mouth, to ask him, quite frankly, if he’d never visited his wife’s bedchamber, then how could he produce a son.

He knew exactly what was in her mind at that moment. Her thoughts were writ clearly on her expressive face. She had no guile. She would have to learn if she was ever to enter Society.

“I bedded my wife. I just never bedded her in her own bed. Actually, Marissa never touched the rest of the castle. She didn’t care to stay here. She much preferred London. Indeed, she was only here when she was pregnant with Edmund.” He picked up a fork and lightly began tapping it against the white tablecloth. “She hated the sea, the dampness. She looked forward to birthing Edmund here so she could return to London. She’s buried in the Chesleigh family plot in the churchyard in Chesleigh village. You can visit her grave if you wish.”

His voice, when he’d spoken of his father, had been filled with passion. With Marissa his voice was expressionless. She said, “Do you spend much time here at Chesleigh, your grace?”

“I try to spend a quarter of the year here. Besides the London town house, where my mother currently resides, there are three other houses in England. I am responsible for the Chesleigh properties. I spend time at all of them.”

Spoken like a duke, she thought, a man who knew his responsibilities and accepted them. Well, she would remain at Chesleigh. Houchard had been adamant about that, at least until she received further instructions.

“Truth be told,” he continued after a moment, “like Marissa and my mother, I prefer London. I have many friends there. There are countless attractions.”

She said, “If you will allow me to remain as Edmund’s nanny, it perhaps will relieve you to know that, unlike you, I much prefer the country and the sea. I have always detested large cities. I find them dirty and noisy. If you allow me to remain, your grace, you can be certain that I will be quite content right here at Chesleigh. It is written of in all the guidebooks as one of the most noble and stately residences in all of England. Not Blenheim, to be sure, but nonetheless.”

“Blenheim is a tasteless heap of stone, of no particular style and no antiquity. Its gardens are paltry, its forests scraggly. It has no pride of ancestry in its walls, no sense of permanence. Warwick Castle, now, is quite another matter. One can feel centuries of human misery and triumph within its walls. Unfortunately, my ancestors had not the famous Warwicks’ wherewithal.” The duke arched a black eyebrow. “I’m not a useless fribble, Madame. Don’t give me that surprised look. Sometimes my attention turns to politics.” Her heart nearly stopped. What the devil did he mean by politics? Oh, God, she had to know. Houchard
had said that the duke didn’t deign to care about politics. “What do you mean, your grace? Do you sit in the House of Lords? Do you propose new laws?”

“No, not exactly. Not at all, really. It’s not important. Actually, what I should have said is that I try to do precisely what pleases me at any given moment. Much of what pleases me is not fit conversation for a lady’s ears.”

He’d left something out. She wondered what it was. She said, “That didn’t stop you this afternoon, or just thirty minutes ago either.”

What else was one to do? He laughed. “Touche, Madame. Perhaps you would like to go to the drawing room? I imagine that Bassick would serve us some tea shortly.” “But we just finished dining.” “Bassick believes that tea is the foundation of happiness, health, and well-being. If we adjourn to the drawing room, the tea tray will be brought within an hour.”

The duke settled her in a lovely pale blue silk-covered chair near the fireplace. He himself remained standing, his back against the mantel, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Have you thought about me remaining here, your grace?” “You arrived only four hours ago, Madame.” She looked down at her hands and said truthfully, “I’m afraid, your grace.” “I shan’t boot you off the premises.” “No, but perhaps you would simply allow me to remain, doing nothing, having no importance at all. I wouldn’t like that. In fact, I couldn’t have it.” “Why the devil do you sound so nervous?”

“Because you haven’t yet told me if I may remain as Edmund’s nanny.”

“You are a young woman, Madame. I would think that you would prefer to join Society. I am your kinsman. It is my duty to see that you are established, that you don’t want for anything. I know that my mother would be delighted to introduce you into the
beau monde.
With your French blood, and your undeniably lovely face and figure, I predict your instant success. I’m not at all tight-fisted, Madame, and will provide you sufficient dowry to support a suitable second alliance.”

It had never occurred to her that he would be so wretchedly generous. She had to stay at Chesleigh at all cost. She finally said, “Even though I’m half French, I’m actually English to my very bones. I don’t like the French.”

“Those are my sentiments as well, particularly Napoleon. Now, what do you say?” “I don’t want to go to London.” “I beg your pardon?”

“I have no wish whatsoever to leave Chesleigh. I’ve told you. I love this house, the sea. I want to stay with Edmund. Even though I haven’t met him, I’m sure that we will suit.”

Suddenly he looked bored with her, and cynical. He looked as if he would say something, but contented himself with just shrugging his shoulders.

She jumped to her feet, accidentally tipping the chair and sending it onto its back on the beautiful Axminster carpet. “Oh, dear,” she said, picked up the chair and righted it. “I gather you are perturbed about something?” “I don’t understand your skepticism, your grace. I
have told you what it is I wish, yet you pretend to disbelieve me.”

“Were you widowed so recently that good taste forbids gaiety? If that is your reason for wishing isolation, then I will accept it.”

“I was widowed over a year ago, your grace. My father died shortly after my husband. I have fulfilled my social obligations. Now I just wish for peace and rest.”

He said, his voice becoming distant, “You must have been very attached to your husband.”

“No—yes, I mean, certainly I was attached to him. Andre was a great man.” “And a poor one, evidently.” “I am left penniless because I did not bear him an heir. That is the way of the world, everywhere, even here in England. His younger brother is now master. I never got along well with his younger brother. After Andre died, I returned to my father.” “Did the young fool try to seduce you?” Again, his cynicism burned the air between them. “Well, yes, I suppose he did. I couldn’t abide him. I left. His breath smelled always of garlic.”

“I see,” the duke said, and examined his thumbnail. It was a bit jagged. “Exactly who was your husband, Madame?”

“The eldest son of the Comte de la Valette, André Neigeon, by name.”

“I can’t very well continue calling you Madame or cousin. May I call you Evangeline?” She nodded and thought that her name sounded like smooth honey when he said it. It also sounded seductive and provocative. It was odd about this man. Other than being the most beautiful man she’d ever seen in her life, his
was a brooding, complex nature that she doubted anyone understood. Perhaps his father had. “Certainly, your grace.” “You may call me Richard.” She nodded, but she didn’t want to be close enough to him so that his first name came naturally to her. She wanted to keep him apart from her, separate. She should have been relieved that he had so quickly accepted her, but instead she felt so ashamed she wanted to slink away and hide.

“If you truly wish to remain at Chesleigh in the company of my son, I suppose it would be ill-natured and unreasonable of me to disallow it. You will not, of course, be treated like a nanny. Indeed, I will expect you to be mistress at Chesleigh when I am not here.”

From an unknown to the mistress of his house in his absence. She just stared at him, words vague in her mind and dead on her tongue. She began to pace, her strides long, bounded only by her skirts. She whirled to face him. “That is ridiculous. You don’t know me. I’m nobody at all. Never would I agree to such a thing. I would be your employee, just like your other hundred or so employees.”

“How did you know their number? Were you counting faces all afternoon?”

“No, but this place, it’s immense. Every time I’ve looked up, there’s been a different footman or maid standing not three feet from me.”

“The fact remains that you were my wife’s first cousin. You have no family left except your uncle, who doesn’t even know you’re in England. Thus, I’m now the head of your family, or, if you wish, you have become part of my family. I am now responsible for
you. I cannot in good conscience place you in an airless room in the attic.”

“I didn’t mean it to sound like that. But it is impossible. Forgive me.”

He withdrew from her as effectively as if he’d walked from the room and left her alone. He looked indifferent. He said, “Having my lovely cousin in residence at Chesleigh cannot but make every gentleman of my acquaintance red with jealousy. Besides, it is what my mother would insist upon. If you don’t choose it, it is unfortunate, but it is what will happen.

“Once you have settled in, I will bring my mother here to meet you. The propriety of your living here, without proper chaperone, cousin or not, is another matter upon which my mother is well versed. We can’t have your reputation sullied by being here with me. Perhaps my mother should come to Chesleigh now, though her health suffers from the sea air.”

“I’ve been married. There’s nothing for you to sully. I see that you are quite bored with me, with this entire conversation. I will excuse myself.”

“Am I bored? I don’t think so. So there’s nothing for me to sully? Given that you are half French, I find that opinion extraordinarily naive. Where, Madame, is your touted French common sense? Surely you plan to wed again some time in the future. Let me assure you that the gentleman of your choice will be much concerned.”

“I have no intention of ever marrying again. Also, the thought of your poor mother being dragged here just because of some nonsensical rule is ridiculous. The fact is that I’m nothing more than a poor relation. No one cares about my reputation or lack of one.”