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Authors: Connie Mason

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BOOK: The Price of Pleasure
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Fleur wondered what had just taken place but held her tongue. She would find out soon enough.

“Since we are to be your guests, I’d prefer that we dispense with formalities,” Fleur ventured. “I’d be pleased if you’d call me Fleur, and I know Lisette would prefer to be addressed by her given name.”

“Of course,” Helen acknowledged, “and you may call us Helen and Violet.”

“Duvall, if you and the ladies will excuse us, I shall acquaint my guests with the house. I don’t want to delay your shopping excursion.”

Reed ushered Fleur and Lisette from the room.

“That went rather well,” Reed said once they had quit the drawing room.

Fleur nodded. “But don’t you think it strange that Duvall is making himself indispensable to Helen and Violet?”

“Better him than me,” Reed retorted.

Fleur kept her thoughts to herself as Reed guided them through the mansion, explaining the function of each room as they passed through it. The first floor consisted of the drawing room, dining room, a huge ballroom, breakfast room, a well-stocked library and study. The modern, well-kept kitchen and servants’ dining hall were at the back of the house, connected to the upper stories by servants’ stairs. The second floor had an east wing and a west wing. Each wing held a total of five bedchambers. The third floor consisted entirely of several bedchambers occupied by servants.

“How will I ever find my way around?” Fleur wondered aloud.

“There are footmen stationed on each floor to direct you,” Reed said. “My grandfather built this house, and my father and brother added improvements. We even have a water closet in each wing and modern plumbing.”

“Amazing,” Fleur replied, peeking into one of the water closets. “Our chateau had none of these amenities, though it was grand enough.”

Reed stopped before a door in the east wing and flung it open. “This is your bedchamber, Lisette. You can stay here and rest or acquaint yourself with the servants below stairs. I know you feel comfortable around them.”

Lisette grinned. “You know me well, my lord. I may be your guest but such lofty company unsettles me.”

“I’ll show you Fleur’s chamber first and then you can do as you wish. Can you find your way to the kitchen and servants’ dining hall?”

Lisette nodded, and they continued on to the west wing and Fleur’s bedchamber. Reed opened the door and held it so they could precede him inside. Peg was already there, removing a bonnet from a large hatbox. “The chamber is beautiful,” Fleur said, admiring the rose-colored drapery, flocked wallpaper and dainty furniture. Her gaze settled on the boxes Peg was busily unpacking. “Are those all for me?”

“It appears Madame Henrietta fulfilled her promise to have several outfits ready within the week. The rest will follow in a few days.”

Fleur scowled. “I don’t recall ordering so many gowns.”

“You didn’t, but I did.”

Fleur frowned her displeasure. “I shall repay you every last farthing. I want to open a bank account today, if it can be arranged. It’s time I purchased gowns and accessories for Lisette.”

“I believe that can be arranged. Shall we plan on it after luncheon? I need to leave the house for a bit but shall return in time to take luncheon with you. If you need anything, just ring.”

Lisette decided to stay and help Fleur and Peg unpack the boxes of new clothing. Lisette exclaimed over the fine silk stockings, filmy shifts, silk nightgowns, warm dressing robes and more gowns than Fleur remembered ordering. Included were a riding habit and boots, even though Fleur didn’t own a horse, and bonnets and slippers to match nearly every outfit.

After, Lisette and Peg left to eat luncheon with the servants. Fleur freshened up and made her way to the dining room.

Reed was on his way home. It was nearly time for luncheon and he had promised Fleur he’d join her. He was riding Ebony down the street when he heard a coach behind him, approaching uncommonly fast for such a busy thoroughfare. At first Reed thought nothing of it. When he heard people cursing and shouting, he looked behind him and saw the coach bearing down on him, people, riders and conveyances scattering in its wake. A milkmaid leading a milch cow was forced off the road. The crowded street allowed scant room for maneuvering.

“Out of the way!” Reed shouted as he kneed Ebony into a gallop. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the coach sideswipe a dray and send it crashing onto its side. And still the coach raced toward him. It was obvious now that he was the target of another unprovoked attack.

The coach was nearly upon him. He knew intuitively that people could be hurt and even killed if he plowed forward without a thought for life or limb. His mind searched frantically for an escape route. Looming ahead was a crossroad. Without a second thought, Reed veered to the right onto the less-crowded street. The coach followed. Then he saw it, a narrow alley wide enough for a horse but not a coach.

Reed did not hesitate as he reined Ebony into the maw of the alley. Aware that the coach could not follow, he slowed Ebony to a walk and picked his way around the garbage strewn in his path. He exited onto another street. Glancing over his shoulder, he noted with relief that he wasn’t being followed. It took but a moment for him to get his bearings, and then Reed continued on to Park Avenue.

Fleur greeted Reed with a smile as he entered the dining room. “Have you been waiting long?” he asked, returning her smile.

“Not too long.” She frowned. “You’re out of breath. What happened?”

“Nothing at all.” He sat down and shook out his napkin.

“I don’t believe you. You may as well tell me. You know I’ll hound you until you do.”

“It’s nothing really,” Reed insisted, brushing her question aside. “Merely a little mishap on the road.”

A footman placed a cold luncheon before them.

“Was another attempt made on your life?” Fleur demanded.

“I suppose you could call it that. It was nothing I couldn’t handle. Forget it, Fleur. Where is Lisette?”

“She’ll be ready to leave when we are.” She bit into a piece of smoked salmon, chewed thoughtfully and swallowed. She decided to change the subject. “I will need the money you received for my jewels. I want to deposit it in the bank along with the bank draft Lord Porter gave me.”

“That was one of my errands this morning. I had left your money in the safe at my townhouse and went to retrieve it.”

They finished their lunch in silence despite the questions Fleur wanted to ask. Reed appeared distracted, so Fleur didn’t prod him for answers. Lisette was waiting for them when they arrived in the foyer.

“I brought your bonnet,
ma petite,
” she said. “I’m ready to leave when you are.”

“The carriage is waiting,” Hughes said.

Fleur was relieved when Reed entered the carriage behind her and Lisette. He didn’t seem to realize his life was in danger. Or if he did, he wasn’t doing anything to protect himself.

The shopping expedition was a success. Fleur opened a bank account, deposited her money and placed an order for a new wardrobe for Lisette with Madame Henrietta.

The following day found Fleur at loose ends. Because Helen and Violet made her feel unwelcome, she spent as little time as possible with them. Gallard Duvall had become a permanent fixture at the mansion. He had stayed for dinner last night and didn’t leave until Reed made broad hints about the lateness of the hour. It seemed to Fleur that the Frenchman was far too interested in Reed’s comings and goings. Fleur didn’t like him.

It was only by accident that she learned her bedchamber connected to Reed’s. No wonder Helen had wanted her to have the green room instead of the charming rose room she now occupied. Fleur hadn’t noticed the adjoining door until she was preparing for bed that night. Curiosity got the best of her, and she opened the door to see where it led. It didn’t take her long to realize she was in the master suite. It was twice the size of her chamber, decorated in dark colors with a huge bed against one wall and massive furniture situated around it.

“I wondered when you’d notice the door,” Reed said from across the room. He had appeared suddenly from a small alcove Fleur assumed was a dressing room. He was wearing a robe, loosely belted at the waist. His feet were bare and his hair tousled from his bath.

“No wonder Violet objected to the sleeping arrangements. Why did you give me the chamber adjoining yours?”

Reed reached her in three long strides and pulled her into his arms. “You know why. Besides, Violet has no say in what I do or don’t do.”

“Any fool can see she’s jealous of me.”

“She has no reason to be. I’m not interested in Violet.”

“She can give you the child you desperately need.”

“I’m in no hurry to wed.” His arms tightened around her.

Fleur pushed him away. “There’s a matter I wish to discuss with you, and now is as good a time as any.” She dragged in a steadying breath. “I believe that Gallard Duvall may be responsible for the attacks on you.”

When Reed opened his mouth to speak, Fleur placed a finger against his lips. “Do not deny you had another close call yesterday.”

“I wasn’t in any danger. Forget Duvall. I am convinced my betrayer is one of Porter’s agents.” He reached for her again, but Fleur avoided him.

“I do not trust Duvall. He has ingratiated himself with Helen for a reason.”

“Of course he has. He is a relative, after all. Helen says he was a big help to her during Jason’s illness and after his death, when she was left adrift.”

“Doesn’t it seem odd to you that he showed up at your country estate just after your disappearance?”

“He’s an émigré. They show up in England all the time. I helped a few escape myself.”

“But . . . I still think . . . ”

“You think too much,” Reed said, dragging her against him. His kiss chased everything save his taste, his scent and his touch from her mind.

Fleur didn’t leave Reed’s bedchamber until he carried her to her bed shortly before dawn.

Fleur’s dreamy expression, passion-glazed eyes and swollen lips gave ample proof of what had taken place in Reed’s bed when she appeared at breakfast the next morning. Unfortunately, Violet noticed and took exception.

“Reed is mine, do you hear?” she hissed into Fleur’s ear. “You cannot have him.”

Chapter Thirteen
 

Fleur thought she had misheard, but when she glanced at Violet, she knew she hadn’t been mistaken. The woman’s feral look was too virulent to be mistaken.

Ignoring the remark, Fleur filled her plate, carried it to the table and sat beside Lisette. Snubbing them, Helen and Violet began chatting together about the latest gossip.

“Watch out for that one,” Lisette whispered, nodding toward Violet. “I heard what she said.”

When Reed entered the breakfast room a few minutes later, Violet gave him her full attention, coyly batting her eyes and touching his arm. Fleur turned away, more than a little disgusted by the blatant flirtation.

They were still in the breakfast room when Gallard Duvall was announced.

“Though it’s a little early for visitors, you are welcome to join us, Duvall,” Reed drawled.

“Forgive me,
mon ami,
” Duvall said, “but I have some interesting news to impart.”

“Please do join us, Gallard,” Helen invited. “You are family, after all.”

BOOK: The Price of Pleasure
13.83Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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