Closer To Sin (32 page)

Even Manning House’s marble checkerboard floor seemed particularly unreceptive to him tonight, Sinclair thought as Everett removed his greatcoat and handed it to a waiting footman. ‘The family is in the drawing room, my Lord,’ the butler informed him. ‘If you will follow me I shall announce you.’

‘No need, Everett,’ Sinclair assured him as he handed over his hat and gloves. ‘His Grace is expecting me. I shall find my own way.’

‘Very good, my Lord, not like you haven’t run tame through these hallways since you were a lad.’

‘I’d have thought you’d prefer to forget those days, Everett.’

‘No, my Lord, there is nothing like the laughter of young chaps intent on mischief to give a house a sense of identity.’

‘I’ll see what hijinks I can drum up for you then,’ Sinclair laughed as he started up the stairs.

He entered the drawing room to find Nate and Lady Carrick to be its only occupants. They were sitting in close proximity engaged in an intense conversation. Neither appeared to notice his arrival until the door snicked shut behind him. Strange, he was sure Everett had said the whole family was already assembled. ‘Good evening, Martinbury, my Lady. I appear to be a little early.’

Lady Carrick raised her chin and pointedly looked away. Ah, so it’s going to be like that.

Nate stood in greeting. ‘The ladies are just a little tardy with their toilette this evening. I’ve sent Yvette to hasten Liliane along.’

The two men continued to chat desultorily for a few moments, discussing forthcoming social events and possible outings, starting with tonight’s Longton ball, where Sinclair could be seen in the company of Liliane.

‘Your Grace,’ Yvette interrupted, throwing the door wide. ‘She’s not in her bed chamber. Nor is she in her sitting room, the morning room, the library or the kitchens.’

‘Good grief, girl, why on earth would she be in the kitchens?’ Lady Carrick demanded.

Sinclair read the panic on Yvette’s face. ‘Who is not in their bed chamber, Yvette? Liliane?’

Yvette swivelled towards him. ‘Yes, your G—, I mean, my Lord. I’ve asked Everett, Mrs Fielder and cook, and none of them have seen her all afternoon. And she wasn’t at luncheon.’

Nate pulled the bell to summon Everett.

‘Yes, your Grace?’ Everett queried as he entered the room.

‘Ah, Everett, it seems Miss Yvette is having some difficulty locating Miss Desailly. Would you mind checking the stables?’

Sinclair dragged a hand through his hair. ‘And if she’s not in the house? Where is she likely to go from here, Martinbury, back to France?’

‘No, my lord, she wouldn’t do that,’ Yvette denied.

‘If she was planning to go back in September, my dear, what makes you so certain she wouldn’t go now?’ Lady Carrick gently queried.

Sinclair started, surprised at the affection in the woman’s voice. Obviously she reserved her vitriol for him alone.

‘She has no need to,’ Yvette asserted. ‘She was going back for his lordship, so there is nothing there for her now.’ Her voice trailed off at the end as she became less certain.

A knock at the door interrupted the discussion. ‘Excuse me, your Grace.’

‘Yes, Everett?’

‘It’s Miss Desailly, your Grace, no one has seen her. What do you request I do?’

Nate looked at his usually stately butler. ‘Make some discreet enquiries at the homes of her friends, see if she’s paying a call this afternoon.’

‘Yes, your Grace. If you please, dinner is ready. May I suggest you take the opportunity to eat now. Just… just in case you don’t have opportunity later.’

‘Very well, Everett. Let us know what you discover.’

The mood at the dinner table was far from relaxed as they awaited Everett’s return. Sinclair slowly picked his way through the braised lamb and honeyed carrots that had materialised upon his plate. He thought back to that night in the shepherd’s hut when Liliane told him of the legacy of her family, and her grandparent’s foresight in sending her father away. He thought of that day on the beach, where she had told him of her sorrow of having lost her mother and young brother, her sense of utter desertion.

He knew the tragedy that had befallen Nate’s sister, her French émigré husband and her son as well as he knew the history of his own family. And he had known that Nate was guardian to his niece and her cousin. Liliane had told him who she was, it had all been there. He just hadn’t seen it. For what must be the thousandth time since he saw her on that damned staircase, he cursed himself for a fool. Carolyn had used his absence to betray him. Liliane had used his own foolishness to betray him.

Everett cleared his throat from where he stood at the foot of the table. ‘Your Grace, Miss Desailly is not visiting with any of her friends.’

‘Thank you, Everett, that will be all for now,’ Nate dismissed the butler.

‘I can’t imagine where the girl might be,’ Lady Carrick huffed. ‘I’m sure she’s in a fine snit and taken herself off to the Dudley’s house and their servants just aren’t saying. A lot of fuss about nothing, I expect.’

‘Actually, Lady Carrick,’ Yvette piped up. ‘I agree that Liliane is in a snit, but I don’t think she’s gone to visit Sara.’ She looked towards Nate. ‘You told her, your Grace, that when this morning’s interview was terminated she was to pack her bags and return directly to Manning Grange. Knowing Liliane, I think that’s what she’s done.’

Sinclair swore violently, the heavy mahogany chair sliding back against the polished floorboards as he stood and pushed away from the table. ‘Surely she wouldn’t be so bloody foolish. It would take her days to get to Somerset by herself.’

Nate threw his linen napkin upon the table and also stood. ‘May I remind you, this is the woman who bribed a fishing smack to cross the Channel in a storm, engaged in activities of espionage on enemy soil and married you.’

‘And which of those three do you most object to?’ Sinclair asked dryly.

***

Liliane missed Sin’s sardonic question as she pushed open the door to the dining room and surveyed the scene before her. Good, Great-Aunt Woolner hadn’t terminated Sin’s life, although her uncle may still be planning for his early demise. ‘Sorry I’m late for dinner,’ she said as she demurely entered. ‘Please, gentlemen, be seated.’

‘Where the bloody hell have—’

‘What do you think—?’

‘Oh Liliane—’

Interesting. Everyone was clamouring to talk at once, but Sin was being particularly quiet on the subject of her absence. ‘Gracious, so many questions. Yvette, may you pass the potatoes please, I’m starving.’

‘You may have the potatoes, Liliane, after you have answered a few questions first,’ Nate decreed. ‘First and foremost, where have you been?’

She picked up the crystal tumbler before her and took a sip of water, delaying the moment before she would have to admit responsibility for her folly. ‘I know you’re all angry at me, I simply needed to get away for a short while.’

She looked to see that Sin had seated himself back at the table in preparation to hear her explanation. ‘I needed space to think, without anyone watching over me or telling me when it was time to go home. I truly thought about going home, to Manning Grange, but if there is one thing I learnt during my time in France, it’s how very vulnerable lone travellers are—particularly women. So, I have been sitting in the gardens across the road, watching the ducks in the pond.’

Nobody said a word. Oh dear. It was a potent realisation that no one was going to interrupt her, no one was going to dismiss the incident and brush it all under the table and everyone was waiting for her explanation.

‘I see now that my actions have been selfish and inconsiderate. I don’t regret the impulse that drove me to help Solange, but I was so focused on satisfying my own needs that I totally ignored the wider implications.’ She paused, but still no one said a word.

She took another sip of water. More explanation was obviously required. ‘I had convinced myself I would be impervious to society’s judgement, and I deliberately ignored the damage I could cause to this family’s reputation, particularly Yvette’s reputation. Thank you for standing by me, Yvette.’

She stood and moved around the table to where Lady Carrick sat. Leaning down she wrapped her arms around the formidable lady and laid a kiss upon her cheek. ‘Great-Aunt Woolner, I know that you care for me. Sometimes, though, what you think is best for me is not what I think is best for me. Nonetheless, I have caused you untold embarrassment and for that, I am truly sorry. Please forgive me.’

Lady Carrick dabbed a tear from her eye. ‘Liliane dearest, it is not for me to forgive you. You will need to forgive yourself, for ultimately, it is you,’ she glanced pointedly at Sin, ‘who will have to live with the consequences of your actions.’

Liliane nodded and went to stand before her uncle. ‘Uncle Nate, I can say sorry to you, but something tells me a simple sorry is too trite. I don’t wish to use words that will trivialise the depth of gratitude I owe you in continuing to stand by me. Please know you can be proud of me.’ Nate leaned forward to place his elbows on the table and rest his chin upon his clasped hands. It seemed it was going to be a long path to forgiveness.

‘It’s reassuring, Liliane, that you are showing some maturity in considering your actions in terms of how they affect us as a family. There is more to a family, though, than just those who are related by blood. What of those who dedicate their lives to serving us, giving us their loyalty and protecting our privacy? Our actions can hurt those innocents by virtue of their association with us. Think of Marthe—did you even stop to consider the possible consequences your latest disappearance would have on her? You caused her considerable distress and you jeopardised her employment. She is supposed to accompany you everywhere.’

Liliane felt the blood drain from her face. Mercy, but this was a day of self-reflection, and the woman staring back at her wasn’t necessarily the woman she wanted to be. ‘Thank you for your honesty, Uncle Nate, you’ve given me a lot to think about.’

She seated herself back at the table. There was just one more mountain to climb, and this would be the hardest of them all. ‘Sin, you—more than anyone else—is paying the price of my selfishness. I jeopardised your mission and I complicated events so that you were forced to wed me.’ She needed him to look at her. If only he would understand, show her the man she had known just a few short weeks ago. But their connection was evaporating, like dew on the silken threads of a spider’s web, too fragile to withstand the heat of the day. Even his face was shuttered to her and she feared the beauty they had known would always be but a moment in time.

She glanced at her family; they may as well hear this. If they were to all come through this with their reputations intact, there could be no more secrets. ‘Sin,’ she appealed, ‘I am not proud of my actions. I think a part of me denied our wedding was real. The child in me probably expected I could simply walk away and someone else would clean up my mess for me.’

Liliane’s gut clenched. Sin’s granite like countenance had barely twitched an eyelash as she had poured out her heart. If only he would say something. ‘I promise you, I am not going to depend upon you and Uncle Nate to clean up this mess for me. Today, while I sitting beside the duck pond, I gave a lot of consideration to the things you said to me this morning.’ She relaxed a little as she saw him gesture for her to continue. ‘I agree with this morning’s suggestion that you should publicly court me, but to buy us time, not to hold you to this marriage.’

‘Then I suggest you finish your meal and ready yourself for the Longton’s ball.’ Sin stood and nodded to everyone at the table. ‘I shall see you all there.’

Liliane looked down at her plate. The gravy had started to congeal around the edges and cold carrots were looking decidedly limp and unappetising. But none of that was as unpalatable as the look of contempt that had been in Sin’s eyes as he’d departed the room.

***

Liliane linked arms with Yvette while they navigated Lady Longton’s ballroom. Like every year, it was a sad crush. But the display of red roses set among the emerald greenery was particularly striking. ‘There they are,’ Yvette tugged at her, ‘over by the terrace.’

Looking to where Yvette was indicating, Liliane saw Sara Dudley wave at her. ‘I was beginning to despair we’d ever find them.’

Sara embraced them both enthusiastically as they reached her side. ‘I know public displays of affection are considered to be outrageously gauche,’ she gushed. ‘But I just can’t help myself. You will never believe what just happened!’

‘Are you going to keep us in suspense all night, or will you share with us?’

‘Gerald Longton requested to dance with me,’ she leaned in confidingly, ‘and it’s to be the supper dance.’

Liliane grasped her friend’s fingers. ‘Just don’t spend all of your time trying not to step on his toes, or he will think he’s dancing with a wooden peg.’

‘It wouldn’t have occurred to me if you hadn’t just suggested it,’ she responded tartly. ‘How about you Yvette, who will you be dancing the supper dance with?’ She lifted Yvette’s dance card. ‘Oooh, Lord Harte. He’s terribly dashing, and’ she giggled, ‘he has a wicked smile.’

‘And what about me, Miss Dudley, do you think my smile is wicked?’ All three ladies startled as Sin came to stand before them, dark and enigmatic in his evening clothes.

‘I believe, Lord Esselton, there is a difference between having a wicked smile, and being wicked.’

‘And which do you believe me to be, Miss Dudley?’

Sara coughed with embarrassment. ‘I don’t believe I am sufficiently well acquainted with you, my Lord, to answer that question.’

Sin gave her a lazy wink before picking up Liliane’s dance card. ‘Do you wish to request a dance of me, my Lord?’ Liliane queried.

‘Miss Desailly, my night would be incomplete without a dance with you.’ And anything else you would care to bestow upon me, the smoulder in his eyes seemed to say.

Oh my, how could she have ever considered him too untamed for a Mayfair ballroom? She peeked at him from the corner of her eye. There was nothing about him that remotely resembled the hard, ruthless man who haunted her dreams every night. He was dressed all in black with the exception of a crisp white shirt and cravat and an embroidered silver waistcoat. This man moved with the sleek gracefulness of a panther. All wicked beauty and barely concealed hunger. Sin handed back her dance card and she looked down at it. Oh. The opening dance and the supper dance. That would certainly make a bold statement to those assembled tonight.