Lady of Shame (19 page)

‘Poor thing. It sounds as if she is in love with you.’

He frowned deeply. ‘She almost ruined my reputation.’

She smiled. ‘Love is strangely unselfish, isn’t it?’ She spoke thoughtfully, hardly knowing where the words were coming from, but feeling their truth. ‘If one loves, one will do anything to make that person happy or safe or whatever is needed.’ Her voice broke a little as she thought of what she would do for her daughter.

He stared at her. Clearly nonplussed.

She brushed her words aside. ‘I really hope Becca will not be required to leave. Little harm has been done, fortunately.’

‘It is up to Madame Stratton, of course, but I asked her to forgive.’

‘I am glad.’

‘No doubt she will consult with you, since you were the one most harmed.’

‘Then she will be forgiven.’ She bit her lip. ‘And the other thing?’

‘I had to bid you
au revoir
, Claire. I will miss
la petite
Jane very much, also.’ He held out a package wrapped in brown paper tied with ribbon. ‘This gift is for her.’

‘As the food was for me.’

‘A culinary farewell. All I have to offer.’ The ache in his voice brought a lump to her throat.

She inclined her head. ‘It was something I will never forget.’

‘The more memories we make, the harder they are to forget,
non
?’

He sounded as if he spoke from bitter experience.

She could only look her fill, take in the angles of his hard set jaw, the bleakness in his dark eyes, the determination of his mouth.

A groan broke free of his wonderful lips and in one quick stride he was so close she could feel his heat through her gown. His fingertips—light, too light—formed a cage for her face. ‘Claire,’ he said softly.

She placed her hands flat on his chest and felt the tremors racking his body. The storm inside him. His head lowered and his beautifully sensual mouth brushed her parted lips. She closed her eyes overcome by the pleasure of his touch.

Then he tore himself away and was gone.

She blinked back the moisture in her eyes and gazed at the tray and the dish on the table.

He’d brought her all he could offer. Food from the gods.

Something inside her cracked open and heartbreak leaked out; she sank down onto the sofa and let the tears fall.

Chapter Sixteen

‘B
ut why did he have to go?’ Jane whined.

Claire really didn’t want to talk about this any more. It was like being pricked all over with pins. Painful torture. She wanted to scream. She forced herself to calm. ‘Monsieur André had business in London, I am told.’

Jane closed the atlas. ‘Then we should go to London and find him.’

‘No, we shouldn’t.’

The small girl flounced from the chair, her face moody. In that moment, she had the look of her handsome father when crossed. She was going to break hearts when she was older. ‘He was my friend. He left without saying goodbye.’ She kicked at the carpet.

‘Saying goodbye can be painful to all concerned. You know that.’ Jane looked up at that. ‘He left you a gift, did he not?’

Jane touched the glittering star on a ribbon around her neck. ‘I’d sooner have him than some silly old star. I thought you liked him.’

Another one thinking to matchmake? Or had Becca filled her head with these ideas?

Claire carefully arranged her expression into a motherly smile of indulgence. ‘Perhaps one day when we visit London, we will go and find him at his hotel.’

Jane brightened. ‘Can we?’

‘Perhaps.’ It wasn’t a promise. Not really. Since Claire was unlikely ever to go to London. She daren’t. And not only because of Pratt. She didn’t trust herself to be sensible around Monsieur André. ‘Where is that cat of yours? He is usually underfoot.’

An impish grin curved her daughter’s lips. ‘Visiting Chef Jeremy. He hates cats so Tiny visits him every day.’

Claire laughed. The small sound hurt in her chest, but she had become used to the pain and ignored it for Jane’s sake. And for her own. She would not sit around moping for something that could never happen. Remember George, was her mantra. Remember what a disaster he had been. But it didn’t ring entirely true. Because André was not George. André was good and honourable and kind. And she knew that in her heart and this time her heart was not wrong.

But André didn’t want her the way she wanted him. Their worlds were too different.

‘Well, if you have finished your map, perhaps we should start on your letters.’

Jane groaned, but went to fetch her slate.

‘Aunty Claire!’ A brisk voice said. The door swung back with a bang revealing a tall young woman energetically removing her gloves. She tossed them at the hovering footman. Her fashionable bonnet followed suit, revealing long thick dark honey hair. Her grey-blue eyes were alight with pleasure.

Claire rose to her feet.

‘When Lumsden said you were in the library, I had to come right away.’

‘Phaedra,’ Claire said, smiling. ‘Dear Phaedra. Is it really you all grown up?’

They hugged. Just as they had hugged when Phaedra was a schoolgirl.

Jane stood watching them from large eyes, a hopeful smile lurking on her lips.

Phaedra, seeing her, crouched down. ‘And this is your daughter?’ She held out a hand. ‘Good day to you, Cousin Jane. I’m Phaedra. Do you ride?’

Jane took her hand gravely and dipped an awkward curtsey. ‘I don’t know how to ride.’ She glanced up at Claire. ‘But I would like to learn.’

‘Then you shall,’ Phaedra said, bouncing to her feet. ‘Come along, we’ll go to the stables and see about a mount for you.’

Jane took her outstretched hand.

‘Any excuse to get back to the stables, sister,’ said a tall grey-eyed, brown-haired gentleman strolling into the room.

‘Giles,’ Claire exclaimed, taking him in. He’d filled out and matured since she’d seen him last; his pace was leisurely, perhaps even measured. Remembering him when she had left, she thought he looked a little too careworn for a man of his age.

‘It is good to see you,’ she said a little tentatively, unsure of how he would feel about her return.

He grinned and looked more like his old self. ‘And you, Claire. Or should I be calling you “Aunty” now?’ The tease in his smile and his voice reminded her of when they were young.

Claire immediately felt at ease. ‘Claire will do just fine. And this is my daughter. Jane, bid your cousin Giles good day.’

Giles bowed with a twinkle in his eyes. ‘I am pleased to meet you, Cousin.’

Jane bobbed a curtsey. She gave him a measuring look. ‘Mama said I have lots of family here, but they are all growed up. Don’t you have any children?’

Claire muffled a gasp. That was something one did not ask a single gentleman.

Giles lips twitched. ‘Sadly not yet. But I certainly hope I will.’

Jane looked disappointed.

‘But then there is Phaedra,’ he said, his lips twitching. ‘Half the time I think she is no more than ten.’

Phaedra laughed. ‘We are off to the stables.’

‘Go quick, then, before your aunt Wilhelmina is done changing, or you will find yourself plying your needle in the drawing room instead.’

‘A fate worse than death,’ Phaedra muttered. ‘Don’t worry about Jane, I will take good care of her.’ She whisked the beaming child away.

Giles strode up to Claire with a fond smile and took her hand. ‘How are you, really, Claire? Smithins wrote of your arrival. I have been dying to see you after all this time.’ He tucked her hand under his arm and they strolled the perimeter of the room together. Cosy. Comfortable.

‘I am well. Glad to be home. Amongst family. I hope you don’t mind?’

‘I could not be more glad.’ He stopped at the windows and looked down into her face as if searching for information. Probably seeing how much she had changed. ‘I was furious with Father for casting you out. So was Jamie.’

His voice caught on his brother’s name.

She touched his sleeve with her free hand. ‘Oh, Giles, I am so sorry.’

He shook his head as if words were too painful. ‘We looked for you, you know.’

‘It is water under the bridge. Your father did what he thought was right. He did more than he should have, in truth. I learned only when I came back that he gave Holte money.’

He looked out over the park. ‘You speak of him with disdain.’

‘You and Jamie and Crispin were right about him. His will was weak, his charm only a thin veneer. But he gave me Jane and she is my life.’

‘And you are home now.’

‘Yes. I am home. For a while at least.’

He started walking again, his steps a little sharper than before. ‘Smithins says you came seeking money.’

She looked up startled. ‘He told you?’

‘At Father’s behest. It is a cursed nuisance, but Father trusts the man, so what can we do? Claire, I wish we could help you. If this issue of Jamie, his death, was settled, if his son had not shown up, we could have been of more assistance.’

‘Finding an heir is a good thing, is it not? You never wanted the title.’

‘Goodness, it couldn’t be better from that respect. If he really is Jamie’s son. But until we can prove Jamie’s death, the money is all tied up in Chancery. Damned lawyers and judges.’ He halted and squeezed his eyes shut. ‘Claire, please, say nothing to the others, but I honestly fear we will go bankrupt.’

‘Oh, Giles.’

‘Kate is fine. She married a rich American. But there is Phaedra to think of. And Harry.’

‘And yourself and Lily.’

‘I’ll be fine. As long as I can get back to the army soon. I know what Father promised, and I will do my level best to meet it, but it will be touch and go, I’m afraid.’

‘I expected nothing, Giles. Really. But can I stay? For a while? Until I have my situation in hand?’

He took both his hands in hers and smiled. ‘Need you ask? This is your home. Stay as long as you wish and know you are welcome. If anything changes on the financial side, I will be the first to let you know.’

‘And in the meantime, I will continue to find a suitable husband. I will make the family proud this time.’ And pray Pratt didn’t find her before she managed to land her fish. And hopefully Crispin was right and one of these men would be willing to pay for the privilege of marrying a Montague.

Her stomach tightened into a knot.

* * *

Claire had forgotten just how much of a martinet Aunt Wilhelmina could be and had spent the past week trying to head her off from Phaedra and Jane.

Fortunately Jane didn’t spend much time in the kitchens any more; she was too busy in the stables with her cousin, when she wasn’t at her lessons with Claire. A situation which did not please Aunt Wilhelmina.

‘Every girl needs a governess,’ she pronounced over the top of her embroidery frame.

‘All in good time.’ Claire smiled sweetly and drove her needle through the handkerchief she was hemming. ‘When she feels comfortable here, I will employ a governess.’

‘Spoiled,’ Aunt Wilhelmina said. ‘You were spoiled. Look where it got you.’

Claire took a couple of deep breaths. ‘I am sure you didn’t mean to be rude, Aunt Wilhelmina.’

The older lady looked up surprised. Then visibly wilted. ‘I apologise,’ she said gruffly. ‘I am too used to speaking my mind. I will ring for the tea tray.’ She set her frame aside.

Claire jumped to her feet. ‘Let me.’

‘I thought Phaedra would have joined us by now.’

‘She is giving Jane a lesson, I believe.’

‘She should be here, plying her needle.’

‘It is no good wanting Phaedra to be different, Aunt Wilhelmina. She is as she is. And she will join us when she is ready.’

Wilhelmina sniffed, but said no more as Lumsden wheeled the tea tray before her. ‘The post, madam. It finally arrived,’ he intoned.

There were quite a number of letters on the tray. The older lady shuffled through them. She frowned. ‘There is one for you, Claire.’ She turned the note this way and that as if the outside would reveal the contents. ‘Not like you to receive mail.’

No, it wasn’t. Claire’s stomach dipped. No one apart from the family and the locals knew she was here at Castonbury. Her pulse started to race. She held out her hand for the letter.

The seal was plain and she didn’t know the bold black handwriting, yet she had an odd feeling of recognition.

She split the seal with her thumbnail and heard Wilhelmina give a tsk of disapproval.

As she unfolded the note a dog-eared stained slip of paper fell out into her lap. The note was blank. Was it some sort of horrid jest? She picked up the piece of paper and gasped.

IOU E. Pratt the sum of three thousand pounds—George Harrowgane Holte

Diagonally across it were printed the words
Paid in full. E. Pratt.

Blankly she stared at George’s vowels. Returned by whom? Pratt? It hardly seemed likely. Did this really mean he was paid?

Only one person knew about this debt. But surely he could not have paid off such a large sum?

‘Is it bad news?’ Aunt Wilhelmina asked. ‘You’ve gone as white as the cup in your hand.’

‘No,’ she said, feeling giddy. ‘Not bad news at all.’ She glanced at the note again, her heart filling with joy. ‘It is the freedom to choose.’

Aunt Wilhelmina’s jaw dropped open. ‘Are you ill?’

‘Excuse me, I must speak with Giles right away. I must seek him out.’

‘You gels, always dashing about on some mad start or other. It wouldn’t have done in my day. You need to send him a note by way of Lumsden. Wait for him to invite you to his office.’

Claire picked up both pieces of paper and rose to her feet. ‘I think Giles needs to hear about this right away.’ She fled for the study.

Freedom. The word buzzed around in her brain like a trapped bee behind the curtains on a summer day. Before she dare let it out, she had to be sure she had read it right.

* * *

‘For a man reduced to chopping onions for a living, you seem remarkably cheerful,’ Jeremy said, his hands on his hips grinning at André. ‘Though I must say Grillons is lucky to have you back.’

‘Thank you,
mon ami
,’ André said, chopping at full speed. The sooner he was done, the sooner the tears would stop. The heavy weight on his chest, however, would remain. Yet he wasn’t sorry for what he’d done.

A few bouts in Jackson’s saloon and he would soon feel like his old self. He really wished he believed that.

‘So what happened to all your big plans of a hotel and a restaurant?’

‘A question of money.’

‘Investors let you down?’

‘Something like that.’

‘I would be willing to join you. If you would care for a partner. I’ve a bit put away.’

Rely on yourself. Trust no one. Don’t get involved. It was the creed he’d lived by since he was ten. A creed he’d already broken. And yet he felt more content with himself than he’d felt for years. Not happy, but a sense of knowing he’d done the right thing. ‘We will discuss it over a bottle when we are finished here.’

Jeremy grinned. ‘I’d like that.’

The rest of the night passed in a blur of orders from the
maître d’.
Finally they found themselves back in the room they shared on the top floor of the hotel. It was no different to the room he’d had at Castonbury, except it had two beds instead of one. A stark reminder of his reduced status.

Weary, but elated at the compliments he and Jeremy had received throughout the evening, André pulled a bottle of
vin ordinaire
from under his cot.

He opened the bottle and poured two glasses. ‘Thank you for putting in a good word for me with the head chef.’

‘Thank you for the holiday at Castonbury,’ Jeremy said. ‘And for filling in here in my absence. Sorry I had to come and take my old job back.’

‘I thought they might keep you at Castonbury.’

‘They would have. It was just too flaming quiet. Not one dinner party in two weeks.’

‘But Mrs Holte remains in residence.’

‘She does. And Lord Giles and Lady Phaedra arrived a day or two after you left.’

‘Did you see Mademoiselle Jane?’

He pulled out his pipe. ‘A couple of times. Looking for you.’

André felt impossibly sad. ‘She liked coming to the kitchen.’

‘Ah, but Lady Phaedra is giving her riding lessons, I’m told.’

The right thing for the niece of a duke to learn. The child would soon forget him. She was female, wasn’t she? Somehow the realisation made him feel worse. ‘The lady will need to keep an eye on that young miss—she will wander where she is not supposed to go.’ Perhaps the new husband would keep her in order. As long as he wasn’t harsh. The child was bright, it would be a shame to squash her spirit. And Claire. How would she feel about a man interfering in her child’s upbringing?