Vidal's Honor (17 page)
Authors: Sherry Gloag
* * * *
“You will draw more attention if you continue to ignore Lady Beaumont than you would if you occasionally conversed with her. I see
le duc
watching you very carefully.”
“He's been watching all of us.”
“Indeed,” Juan agreed, and laid a hand on Vidal's sleeve. “But now it is more calculating. He notices how you avoid Honor, and I'd wager is conniving how he can turn this to his advantage. If you do not take care you will arrive home to find yourself accused of plotting her husband's death so you can marry her.”
It made a macabre kind of sense, Vidal acknowledged. Hadn't he avoided Honor in an attempt to prevent the conclusions Juan predicted?
“In my endeavour to prevent that, it seems I have leaned too far the other way.”
With a click of his tongue he directed his mount to fall back and waited for the coach to catch up; when Consuela peered out, he leaned forward.
“I'm sorry for neglecting you since
le duc
offered you such extravagant transport,” he began, noting the happy smile Consuela offered him and the equally cautious one from Honor.
“You are not comfortable?” One glance at the interior persuaded him they travelled in the lap of luxury, so what ailed her?
“We are very snug.” Consuela replied with a happy smile.
Vidal remembered in time to address Honor by her title. “Lady Beaumont?”
“Indeed we are enjoying every consideration and lack for nothing, but I fear you are in danger of being crushed if you are not careful,” she said as a passing carriage narrowly missed him. “Do you have time to tell us where we are before you leave us again?”
“Bordeaux, ma'am.” For the life of him he failed to keep his anger from his voice.
“I understood at dinner last night
le duc
intended to skirt the town.”
“He has changed his mind and intends to introduce you to Place de la Bourse.”
Concern chased the politely guarded look from her eyes. “Isn't that risky?”
“I agree, but nothing I say will detract Dumas from what he perceives as a vast treat for you both. He is convinced that, and I quote, âthe beauty of Place de la Bourse will chase away any blue-devils you acquired while journeying across Spain.”
“I see.” A gleam of mischief lit her eyes. “Were we blue-devilled, Consuela?”
“We were many things in Spain but that was not one of them. However, I shall enjoy visiting a new place. Please tell
le duc
, we are charmed by his thoughtfulness.”
“He's playing a dark game, and I haven't fathomed what it is,” Vidal said in a low voice before urging his horse forward.
* * * *
“Tell us about this place you are taking us to,” Consuela asked.
“Let me see, what do I think you will like? While its translation into English is less than romantic, it is accurate never-the-less.” He paused, deliberately Honor thought, when Consuela's eyes lit up with interest.
“If it is less than romantic, I presume trade is involved.” Honor laughed. While she intended to enjoy the outing, a darker side of her questioned the duke's motives. “Come now, tell us and put us out of our misery.”
With a laugh he tucked Consuela's hand into his arm and offered his other for Honor. Finding no reason to disoblige she placed her fingers in the crook of his extended arm.
Honor looked for conceit and even deceit and found none in
le
duc's
countenance. She couldn't identify the difference in the man since their encounter in Spain, but he had changed.
“Because the Chamber of commerce and other economic institutions are installed in the surrounding buildings it became known as the Place de la Bourse and simply put, translates to âSquare of the Purse'.”
Honor couldn't help it, and burst out laughing. “Well,” she said and came to a halt to better survey her surroundings. “The buildings are quite inspiring, and blend in with their surroundings beautifully, yet stand out for what they are. A clever mixture from their designer, they look recent and yet make you think they've been here forever.”
“What is the delay?” Vidal asked as, caught up in the excitement of such a magnificent square, Consuela released her grip on
le duc's
arm and skipped forward.
“Be calm, my friends.” The duke laughed, a carefree sound, and turned to the men. “The south pavilion houses the
Musée des Douanes
and not only displays the history of Bordeaux as a port town, but models of different ships, various navigational instruments and much more. I thought it might interest you my lord, and your friend Juan.”
When the men hesitated, the duke held their gaze and shook his head. “Both ladies are safe in my care. Shall we sayâ” He pulled his watch from his pocket and studied it. “Ah hour? Perhaps more? I believe it has extensive displays. We will enjoy a stroll and find somewhere to enjoy another sample of the local wine.”
Reluctantly the men set of in the direction off the museum.
“That was very naughty of you.” Honor offered a smile with her mild rebuke.
When Consuela ran ahead, the duke turned a serious face to her. “It has come to my notice that my enemies are closing in.”
Not a trace of humour remained in his eyes or round his mouth. He stopped walking and placed a preventative hand on her arm. Not knowing what to say, or what the duke expected from her, Honor stayed silent.
“While you need not fear your wretched brother-in-law any more, I am afraid he managed to spread his rumours far and wide before he left England.”
“So you told me.” Her empathy ebbed with his reminder of what lay in store for her once she reached home.
“There is little I can do that will not exacerbate the situation, and it might amuse you to learn that while he betrayed his brother, and you, he also betrayed me, too.”
“He told you?” Vidal had warned her of Cedric's villainy, but this?
L
e duc's
lips tightened, and his eyes grew hard.
“Indeed, almost his last words were his boast that he'd been paid twice for the same information.”
“Then surely they are nothing more than the idle threats of an evil man bent on causing mischief to the end.”
“So I thought,”
le duc
agreed. “Sadly, this time he did not lie. If I return to England I will swing from Tyburn before you, and there will be no room for explanation. There is, I believe, a bounty on my head, and so it grieves me to admit that I will not be visiting your country anytime soon, if ever again.”
“How does this affect me?” A quick glance revealed Consuela studying some wares displayed outside a building across the square.
“I have done what I can to restore your good name, but, as I said, now my own position has been compromised. It may not be enough. Indeed it could work against you.” He looked down, real regret in his eyes.
“I told you, did I not, that I have only one mistress?”
“You did,” Honor confirmed. “Your country.”
“I knew I could rely on your good memory for I have a confession to make. One I hope will not distress you, rather you will remember with a little fondness.” He let go of her arm, and pushed his hands into his pockets.
“I once thought myself in love with a woman, but she taught me well never to trust her gender again, and until I met you I never deviated from that vow.”
Puzzled more than embarrassed, Honor shook her head in semi denial of what she knew was coming.
“I will not go so far as to describe what I feel for you as love, rather that no other woman has touched my heart the way you do, and that is why I have taken it upon myself to escort you and your friends through France.” He looked round at the people. “I intended to offer you the use my yacht to ensure your safe arrival in England, a final damning of your character in the eyes of your authorities. Now I find I cannot do it, so I have arranged for another vessel to carry you across the Channel. Remember the name â it is important. You will ask the captain
'if this is the Marie Anne, not the queen'
. Only then will he let you onboard.”
“But will you not be there to see us set sail?”
When Dumas shook his head, Honor couldn't identify the feelings swirling through her. She'd feared him, loathed him, been grateful to him for the provisions he'd left them, and was more than a little apprehensive of his motivation for meeting them at Irun and escorting them across France.
“No, my dear, it is unlikely I will be there when you set sail.”
“Then how will I know this captain?”
“Because he will be wearing a ring just like this.” The duke pulled a thick gold chain over his head and she saw a large emerald ring set in finely tooled gold. “Please keep it safe on your person at all times, for without it you will never get out of France.”
Before she could stop him, the duke placed the chain over her head and round her neck. “Be sure no one other than my lord Vidal knows about this. To do so would endanger lives even more than they are already.” He stepped back, brushed a gentle finger across her cheek, and linked her hand over his arm once more before heading in Consuela's direction.
Â
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“What do you suppose that is all about?” Juan came to stand beside Vidal at the museum window. “It seems whatever they are discussing is seriously absorbing.”
Shaking with anger Vidal swung round only to find his way obstructed by the Spaniard.
“Stay awhile and let us discover how this plays out. I would hate to think, just when I have finally begun to trust the woman she lets us down.”
Reluctantly Vidal acknowledged the sense in Juan's words and retraced his steps to watch Dumas, his head close to Honor's, talking urgently. Even from this distance he discovered he could read her emotions, and they were mixed. One moment they were laughing, the next earnest, and if he hadn't known better there was a beat of time when the conversation turned emotional.
“What is he doing now?” Juan's protest almost burst his ear drums.
Their host removed a chain from round his neck and draped it over Honor's bowed head. He caught a flash of green and gold in the sunlight. The wrong shape for a pendent, he decided, and concentrated on the item before it disappeared beneath the neckline of Honor's dress. Gold on a chain had to be something round. A ring? And the green? That could be anything from green glass to an emerald. Whatever the stone, Vidal acknowledged it had to be sizeable for him to see it from his vantage point. Why, he asked himself, would Dumas give Honor a ring? And knowing only the best would do for the man, he assumed the green represented an emerald.
“Devil-a-bit, I won't have him adorning the woman's neck with jewellery in public. Get out of my way.” Vidal pushed Juan back, but still the Spaniard managed to block his exit from the museum.
“He does not touch her. If they were lovers he would at least take her hand after giving her a treasure.”
“How do you know it is a treasure? We are too far away to see the detail. But believe me, I will get to the bottom of this.”
“You are not thinking. We were all but ordered to stay away for more than an hour. We have been here but twenty minutes. You cannot go storming onto the square and create a scene, especially when we are not even supposed to be in France. Where have your brains gone?” He stepped back and glanced out of the window again. “They are making for Consuela. If Dumas has done anything to your lady, I'd say he's made her sad. Look how her shoulders droop, and she drags behind him.”
She did indeed. Why would a woman be unhappy when given what looked like an expensive piece of jewellery? He'd seen the glint of sunlight on the thick gold chain, and the pendant? No, he hadn't had a clear look at that. And now he studied her more closely there was no evidence of the chain round her neck. When he'd presented his light-o-loves with a trinket they'd exhibited it with pride.
Below them Honor joined a vivacious Consuela talking with Gervaise. While he displayed his usual charm, Vidal was pleased to see Honor stood to one side of them without joining in the discussion. When she looked round and up at the museum windows her gaze locked on him, drawing him closer to the glass. Something in her stanceâ
Vidal never turned when Juan laid a hand on his shoulder. “This may sound daft, but she's calling for me. She needs me.”
This time Juan didn't stand in his way when Vidal headed for the exit. Instead the Spaniard drew closer to the window, and after a few minutes, saw the English lord cross the square to join Honor. He let out a sigh of relief at the sight of Vidal tucking Honor's hand into the crook of his arm before following Consuela and
le duc
into the building.
* * * *
“Ah, my lord.”
If he didn't know better, Vidal would have sworn Dumas was laughing at him.
“So dependable, for which I can only be grateful. Although this is not the place, I hope you will find time to offer some advice to Lady Beaumont that I am unable to bestow.”
L
e duc's
penetrating stare, more than anything, prevented the cynical retort hovering on Vidal's lips. “But of course,” he said, gave a low bow, and made his way to Honor's side. “Have you been to Bordeaux before?” he asked, unable to work out how to bring the conversation round to
le duc's
comment about offering advice.
His blood thrummed through his body when Honor shook her head and leaned into his arm. “Are you tired? It's not that long since your tumble down the mountainside.”
“While you may be forgiven for thinking me an accident-jack, or should I say âJill', I assure you I am not normally so clumsy. I have it on very good authority I am a surprisingly level headed woman.'” Her gurgle of laughter arrowed straight to his heart.
“And whose good authority would that be?”
“Why, the Earl of Wellington, of course.” The merriment died from her eyes and her chin wobbled.
“What is it, Honor? Have I said something to distress you?” He wanted to take her in his arms, wanted to caress the sadness off her face. No, he wanted to kiss her until she melted against him and forgot what had caused the sparkle to fade from her eyes.
“It is nought. Only something the earl said the night before⦔
“Oh, my dear, Iâ“
“Honor, come quickly, pray hurry and look at what monsieur has bought for me.” Consuela held up an exquisite shawl edged with lace. “Do you not think it beautiful?”
“Indeed I do. And the colours match your eyes.”
With a silent curse at the interruption, Vidal looked across at the Spanish woman and accepted the truth of Honor's compliment. The russet and gold in the shawl blended with Consuela's rich coffee-coloured eyes.
“What is this?” Juan joined the group and fingered the wrap. “And where did you come across such a fine wrap?”
“
L
e duc.”
Consuela danced in a circle, brandishing the shawl over her head. “It is the most beautiful thing I've ever had.”
“And I do hope your compatriot does not intend to call me out over it,” Gervaise Dumas said, throwing a wry grin in Juan's direction. “I had no notion you would be so delighted over a small trifle.”
“Do not say such things, it is beautiful. I will keep it always.”
While she didn't say, "and remember you", everyone in the group heard the words.
Gervaise held up a hand and waited until he had everyone's attention. “While I know it will go against â what do you say in England â the grain â is that it? I think before we go much further it would be prudent, if we are not to call attention to ourselves, for you all to have a new wardrobe.”
Vidal soon understood the truth in their host's words. While no one openly gaped at them, several people cast surreptitious glances in their direction.
“Indeed you cannot travel through France looking like a bunch of cut-throats, nor can you arrive in England dressed as you are.”
Vidal was reminded of an excited schoolboy when Dumas clapped his hands together. “It will be my pleasure to outfit you all.”
“Why would you do this for us?” Honor stepped away from his side and laid her hand on Gervaise's arm.
“You need to ask me this?”
Unable to detect either banter or scorn in the Frenchman's tone Vidal restrained himself from interfering.
“Yes.” Honor nodded, all the while maintaining eye contact with Dumas. “Yes, and so do the others.” With an arcing sweep of her arm she indicated her companions.
He looked towards them and offered a twist of a smile. “I could say it would amuse me, but Lady Beaumont here would not allow me to pass it off as so.” He removed her hand from his arm and wrapped his fingers round them.
“I have just informed Lady Beaumont that it has come to my attention that my work in England has been uncovered.”
When silence greeted his statement, he sighed and went on. “I too have been betrayed, and much as I love my life in England, if I returned, Tyburn would be my next stop. I have already told Lady Beaumont, I will not be there to wave you on your way across the channel, and it is possible I may not be in a position to escort you the whole way across France.”
“I find this sudden turn-around difficult to accept.” Juan's disbelief and suspicion equalled Vidal's own. Consuela clutched her new shawl closer to her, and Honor â before Vidal could determine her emotions Dumas spoke again.
“I have done what I can to ensure your safety, including my desire to replace your wardrobe. It will allow you to blend in with those you will encounter on your journey to the English Channel. And I have furnished Lady Beaumont with an item of identification in the likely-hood I will not be with you when you reach the coast.”
Was that what he and Juan had witnessed from the museum window? When Vidal caught Honor's attention, his raised eyebrow evoked a solitary nod. He stepped forward to stand beside her.
“Are you endangering you own position by escorting us?”
Le
du
c
's
single shoulder lift said it all.
“Then we will accept your generous offer to refurbish our wardrobes.”
An hour later, no amount of protests from any of them had stopped their host from lavishly implementing his latest objective. When the women hesitated over a choice of fashion, he stepped up and offered his opinion, and, Vidal decided, the man had good taste.
When Consuela picked out a salmon pink satin gown, one frown from Gervaise guaranteed she rejected it without protest. Nor did he know how the Frenchman fully equipped both women, himself, and Juan in so short a space of time. The approaching dusk found two of
le duc's
lackeys loaded with their purchases and conveying them to the coach.
“This has been fun,” Gervaise declared at last, “but we must resume our journey if we are to reach our lodgings tonight.”
A brief request from the ladies for a lemonade held them up for fifteen more minutes before they set off in the gathering darkness.
And Vidal hadn't managed a minute alone with Honor to discover what other information the Frenchman had shared with her.
