The Price of Pleasure (23 page)

“Marry me, Fleur,” Reed surprised himself by asking. Once he said the words he wanted to call them back. Marriage to anyone was a long way off. He wasn’t ready to be leg-shackled yet, was he?

Tears sprang to Fleur’s eyes. No man of rank or property or any hopes for the future wanted a woman who couldn’t give him children. “Marry you? I cannot, and you know why. You owe it to your family and the earldom to provide an heir. And you don’t love me. It’s lust and gratitude that you feel.”

“I don’t know about love because I’ve never experienced it, but it’s more than simple gratitude that I feel for you. As for heirs, I have a cousin, a Frenchman who recently showed up in England.”

“You cannot mean that. No self-respecting Englishman would turn his earldom over to a Frenchman. Please, Reed, do not ask me again, for we both know what you suggest is impossible.”

Fleur might be right, Reed realized. He certainly did not want Duvall to inherit. Too many things about his cousin didn’t add up. And though he wanted Fleur in his life, he had spoken without thinking. Marriage was a big step, one he wasn’t ready to take yet.

Reed allowed the subject to drop. “Go to sleep,” he rasped. “We’ve both had a busy day.”

Reed awoke with Fleur sprawled atop him. Rays of brilliant sunlight stretched their fingers through the windows. Damn, he’d overslept! Reed lifted a still-sleeping Fleur off him and laid her gently down on the bed. Then he rose, made his morning ablutions without waking her, dressed and went down to breakfast. Updike met him at the bottom of the stairs.

“I was on my way to awaken you, my lord. Your grandmother is here. It took a great deal of persuasion to convince her to wait for you in the parlor.” His brows rose suggestively. “She wanted to pull you out of bed herself, and we both know why that wouldn’t have been a good idea.”

Updike was too knowledgeable for his own good. “What time is it?”

“Going on eleven.”

“Good God, I didn’t realize it was so late! Did Grandmamma say what she wanted?”

“She didn’t say, and I didn’t ask. One more thing you should know. Madame Lisette is with her. A tea tray was just rolled in, and they seem to be chatting quite amiably.”

Reed spit out a curse. “I’d better get in there fast. No telling what Lisette is telling Grandmamma. I’ll need coffee, Updike. Hot and black—to fit my mood.”

Reed steeled himself before pasting a smile on his face and presenting himself to his grandmother.

“There you are,” she said.

He marched over to the old lady and placed a kiss on her papery cheek. “I didn’t know you were an early riser, Grandmamma. You didn’t have to come here. I would have come to you had you summoned me.”

She slanted a glance at Lisette. “I hadn’t heard from you in several days and began to worry. I decided to come myself to see that you hadn’t suffered a relapse after your nasty experience in France.”

“As you can see, I am fine.”

“Lisette tells me you brought her and Countess Fontaine out of France during a most difficult time for them. I thought you were finished with all that cloak-and-dagger business. Your time would be better spent looking for a wife. Not that I’m sorry you rescued two damsels in distress, you understand,” she added, sending Lisette a condescending smile.

“This was one assignment I couldn’t refuse, Grandmamma. Fleur and Lisette saved my life. It was my turn to save theirs.”

The dowager glanced at Lisette. “Have you and the countess made plans for the future? There’s quite a colony of émigrés in London. I have befriended many and often hold salons in my home for them. I’ll send you and the countess an invitation the next time I hold one.”

Lisette began chatting in fluent French with Grandmamma. Reed tuned them out, as he often did women’s prattle.

Their conversation ended when Grandmamma turned her attention to Reed and said, “Well, now that your life has settled down, what are your plans for finding a wife?”

“I have none,” Reed said flatly, recalling his ill-timed proposal and Fleur’s refusal.

“That won’t do at all,” Grandmamma snorted. “I’ll give a ball and invite all my friends with daughters or granddaughters of marriageable age. Yes,” she said, “that’s precisely what I shall do.”

Before Reed could form an answer, a footman arrived with a pot of coffee. Reed poured a cup and drank it down, burning his tongue in the process. He poured himself another cup, blew on it and brought it to his lips. Before he could take a sip, Fleur breezed into the study.

“Updike said I would find you here.” She twirled around, her skirts fluttering about her trim ankles. “How do you like my new flocked muslin? Oh,” she gasped, stopping abruptly. “I didn’t know you had company. Am I interrupting?”

“Not at all,” Reed said, setting down his cup. “I’d like you to meet my grandmother, the dowager Countess of Hunthurst.”

“Grandmamma, this is Fleur Fontaine, the woman who saved my life.”

Chapter Eleven

Fleur made her curtsy to the dowager. “I’m pleased to meet you, my lady.”

“No,” the old lady insisted, “it is I who am glad to meet you. You are the reason my grandson is alive. I understand you are a widow. Please accept my condolences. Were you married long?”

“Five years, my lady.”

“Five years! You must have been very young when you wed.”

“I was seventeen. I lived in France for the entire five years I was wed to Pierre.”

“Do you have children, Lady Fleur?”

“Pierre and I were not blessed with children.”

The gleam that had entered the dowager’s eyes when she’d first met Fleur died. Reed knew exactly what Grandmamma was thinking: Once Fleur admitted to not having conceived in all the years of her marriage, she was no longer a possible mate for her grandson.

“What are your plans? Obviously you cannot remain in Reed’s quarters if you wish to preserve your reputation.”

“Lisette and I intend to repair to the country as soon as I hear from my Aunt Charlotte. Until that time, an inn will suffice.”

Reed heaved a sigh when Grandmamma didn’t pursue the subject of Fleur’s living arrangements. Turning to him, the old lady said, “I’ve decided to hold a ball in your honor a week from Saturday next. The invitations will go out to all my friends with marriageable daughters.”

Before Reed could reply, the dowager took Fleur’s hands in both of hers and said, “Because you and Lisette are dear to my heart, you are both welcome. I’ll invite some eligible widowers with children for you to look over. You are still young; some man would be pleased to have you for a wife.”

“Grandmamma, please,” Reed chided, mortified by his grandmother’s attempt at matchmaking. “For one thing, I’m not ready yet to settle down. I just escaped hell and need time to work it out of my system. Trust me, I’m not husband material right now. Hold off on the ball until a later date.”

The dowager frowned, concern etching her wrinkled features. “Is there something you aren’t telling me that I should know about your incarceration, Reed?”

“No, Grandmamma,” Reed denied. “As you can see, I am fit as a fiddle. Let’s just say I’m not in the proper frame of mind for marriage. Can we change the subject?”

“I understand, and will postpone the ball if you insist, but don’t put me off too long.” She rose with the help of her cane.

“By the way, a distant relative from the French branch of the family called on me recently. Gallard Duvall informed me that he is now living in London. I can’t say I was impressed with the boy.” Grandmamma sniffed.

“Actually,” she confided, “I had him investigated and learned his claim is true. If you fail to produce an heir, Duvall is the next in line to inherit. Heaven preserve us if he ultimately ends up with the earldom. That branch of our family has never been favored by Society. Your father would turn in his grave if a distant cousin of his, and a Frenchman at that, ended up with the title and estate.”

“I’ve met Duvall,” Reed informed her. “He was staying with Helen during Jason’s last illness. She said he was a great help to her.”

“Be that as it may, you know what you must do.”

Reed placed her hand in the crook of his elbow. “I’ll escort you to your carriage, Grandmamma.”

The dowager smiled at Fleur. “Thank you again for my grandson’s life. If I can be of help to you, you have but to ask.”

Fleur watched the dowager leave with a sinking heart. If she had had dreams of marrying Reed, his grandmother had just dashed them. Fleur had refused Reed’s spur-of-themoment proposal with good reason. She couldn’t give him what he needed, no matter how right they felt together. If she wanted to wed, which she didn’t, she would have to look to a widower who already had children, just as the dowager had suggested. Her hint couldn’t have been broader.

“You look lovely in your new gown,
ma petite,
” Lisette complimented. “I could tell by the look on his lordship’s face that he thought so too.”

For all the good it will do me
, Fleur silently lamented. She had to forget Reed, just as he would forget her during his search for a young, fertile bride.

“I must write immediately to Aunt Charlotte,” Fleur said. “We must not impose on Reed any longer than necessary.”

“You aren’t imposing,” Reed said from the doorway. He strode into the room. “I hope nothing Grandmamma said upset you.”

“Your grandmother said nothing that isn’t true,” Fleur replied. “We both know our living arrangement is temporary.”

A frown puckered Reed’s brow, then quickly disappeared. “I’m starving and I know you must be, too.” He offered his arm. “Shall we have breakfast before calling on Lord Porter?”

Last night’s strenuous activity had given Fleur a ravenous appetite. “Will you join us, Lisette?”

“I ate earlier with Updike and the others in the servants’ dining room. I promised Cook I’d show her the art of French cuisine.”

“I will see you later, then,” Fleur returned. “We have plans to make concerning our future.”

Reed escorted Fleur to the dining room. They filled their plates and sat down.

“Your grandmother loves you very much,” Fleur said between bites.

“The feeling is mutual,” Reed replied. “I’m glad she didn’t offend you. She was rather insistent upon my marrying and setting up my nursery. But we both know I have demons to slay before I can wed anyone.

“I still have nightmares. Sometimes I dream I’m in a dark pit from which there is no escape.”

Fleur searched his face. “Those dreams will pass in time.”

“You have a calming influence on me, Fleur. I never have nightmares when you’re in my arms. You’re good for me.”

Fleur gazed down at her plate. “I’m sure you’ll find someone who will suit you better than I, someone who can give you children and please your grandmother.” She rose. “I’ll be ready to accompany you to Lord Porter’s office as soon as I write a letter to my aunt.”

Thirty minutes later, Reed’s new coachman stood beside the carriage as they entered and closed the door behind them. The ride to Whitehall was short. Fleur and Reed were ushered into Porter’s office immediately. Lord Porter stood to greet them, kissing Fleur’s hand first, then shaking Reed’s.

“You cannot believe how relieved I was to hear you had returned safely to England, Lady Fontaine,” Porter said. “Did all go as planned?”

“Not quite,” Reed explained. “Our escape was a close thing, but as you see, we stand before you unscathed.”