Persuasion (21 page)

She stared closely, because she did not know what he would say next. She did not quite believe him.

“You already know I despised my wife. And everyone knows I am a recluse. Why do you wildly assume that I am some kind of patriot, as Bedford apparently was? I don’t give a damn about our country, Amelia. I don’t give a damn about the war.” His eyes were dark and flashing. “Warlock is an acquaintance, not my master!”

“Then where were you?” she cried. “And don’t tell me you were having a drink in that strange disguise!”

“I was with a woman.”

She started. It took her a moment to even comprehend him. “That is absurd. You would never bother with a prostitute, and such an explanation does not account for your disguise.” But even as she spoke, she could imagine a gentleman disguising himself in order to visit a bawdy house.

His brows lifted and he stared.

Amelia became uneasy. “Simon?”

He turned his back on her. He walked over to the armoire facing his bed and removed a caftan from it. It was navy blue, pin-striped, and embroidered with gold. “Did I say I was with a prostitute?”

He shut the door somewhat heavily, and it slammed. Simon faced her, his expression twisted. “I have never been with a prostitute.”

He was lying, Amelia thought, oddly frantic. He had not just had a tryst with a lover! But an image assailed her of Simon in some lush woman’s arms. She forced it away. “I don’t believe you.”

“I had no intention of confessing. I am sorry if you are hurt.”

She could barely breathe. He could not be telling her the truth, could he? Simon wanted her. They had a romantic connection. They shared a raging attraction. “If you went to a lover, why bother with such a disguise?”

He hesitated. “Elizabeth is not yet cold in her grave, Amelia. How would it look, if the ton knew I was rushing off to a mistress now?”

So he had a mistress? Was it even possible?

But wasn’t this better than his being a spy?

“Hurting you is not my intention,” he said firmly.

She heard herself whisper, “You want me.”

“Yes, I do. But it is forbidden, is it not? We agreed that an affair is out of the question. We agreed that the children come first—we agreed to be employer and housekeeper. So what am I to do?”

A terrible pain began. Simon had gone to another woman? Was it possible?

Simon had a lover.

“I am sorry, Amelia. I am very sorry. Why were you spying on me?” he cried. “Why couldn’t you leave well enough alone?”

She hugged herself, moisture gathering in her eyes. She was beginning to feel ill. “I want to keep the children safe.”

“My children need you. I need you. I need you here, in this house, managing it and everyone within it as only you can do!” His stare was intense and searching.

Amelia somehow shook her head. “I cannot believe you would go to someone else.”

His face hardened. “Nor can I.... Please go now.”

His voice was thick, as if he had tears rising, too. Amelia hurried past him, suddenly imagining him in another woman’s arms. And she realized that she was devastated.

He suddenly caught up to her from behind, taking her arm and halting her. “Amelia! I am sorry. My intention has never been to hurt you. You deserve so much more than I can ever give you!”

What did that even mean? She pulled away, shaking. Shouldn’t she have expected this? He had broken her heart ten years ago, and if she allowed herself to think about what he was telling her now, surely her heart would break all over again.

“I care about you,” he said roughly. “Very much. And I want you to know that.”

“If you cared about me, we would not be having this conversation.”

He did not speak. She stumbled as she turned to leave. But at the door she paused, clinging to it. How could this be happening?

“Do you hate me now?” he whispered.

Incapable of speaking, Amelia fled.

* * *

T
EARS
IN
HER
EYES
,
Amelia smiled at Lucille, who lay in a cradle in the kitchen, as the staff began cleaning the dishes left over from that morning’s breakfast. Pots banged and pans clanged, the water ran and the boy, Fred, was whistling. It was a busy, happy morning. Her fat fists clenched, Lucille beamed back at Amelia.

“She thinks you are her mother,” Jane said, walking by with a pile of dirty plates.

Amelia felt her heart lurch with anguish. She walked over to a kitchen window and opened it. Birdsong joined the cacophony in the kitchens. A sweet breeze entered, as well.

“Has his lordship heard from her father?” Mrs. Murdock asked, raising her voice over the din. The nurse was seated in a chair by the central table, knitting tiny socks for the baby. Jane scrubbed the wood top with soap and water.

“No, he has not,” Amelia answered. She could hardly breathe. She hadn’t slept at all last night; she had tossed and turned, fighting tears, in disbelief and in heartache. Simon had taken a mistress. A part of her simply did not believe it, even now! But he had confessed, he had insisted, and she had caught him in the act of sneaking in and out of his house. And his explanation made sense!

She knew she should be relieved that he wasn’t a spy, but she was ill. He had broken her heart a second time. How foolish could she be?

“He must be traveling,” Mrs. Murdock said. “Otherwise he would at least reply to the letter.”

“She is so pretty, surely he will decide to claim her once he sees her,” Jane said.

“Yes, I think he must be out of town,” Amelia said. She knew how lackluster her tone was. She quickly smiled and went over to the stove. “Fred, I do not think I have ever seen as clean an oven.”

The freckled lad smiled at her. “I can do more, Miss Greystone, or I can clean the fireplace.”

“The stove is fine, and we have chimney sweeps for that.” Amelia patted his red head.

“Is anything wrong, Miss Greystone?” Mrs. Murdock asked.

Amelia kept smiling and turned to face the nurse, who had stopped knitting and was regarding her expectantly. Aware of needing the baby for comfort, she went to Lucille. “I am fine,” she said, fussing over the baby.

“You seem wan today,” Mrs. Murdock said.

Amelia smiled at Lucille again. “I doubt I even know what wan means,” she said as Lucille grabbed her finger and seized it.

But as she did, the kitchen suddenly became shockingly silent, except for the birdsong from outdoors. All conversation ceased.

Amelia tensed. She looked up and saw Simon on the threshold of the room.

She was shocked. As far as she knew, he had never once set foot in the kitchens.

But he had stepped inside now. He stood on the threshold, staring at her. When their eyes met, he nodded politely. Everyone else in the room was studiously pretending not to have seen him.

Amelia felt her heart drop. She turned to Lucille, adjusting her collar and sleeves. What was he doing? She was most definitely panicked.

Lucille flailed her arms, grinning. Amelia tried to quiet her, wondering if he would go away. When she straightened, she knew he stood beside her. Fury began. She carefully gave Lucille her pacifier.

“Are you ignoring me?” Simon asked.

Last night, he had been with his lover. If he was to be believed! It was a moment before she could speak, and finally, she looked at him. “Of course not, my lord. Is there a problem? Did you wish for another course? Or perhaps the eggs were overcooked, or the ham burned?”

“You did not set foot in the dining room today.”

“I have been preoccupied this morning.” She realized her tone had been tart. “Lucille has been rather fussy,” she added.

He was silent.

Amelia suddenly realized that Simon had sought her out—and in doing so, had been brought face-to-face with Lucille. Impulsively, she picked up the baby and faced him. “But she is doing well now, as you can see.”

He looked at her. Then he looked at Lucille for the very first time. “She resembles Lady Grenville.”

“Yes, we all think so. She will be a beautiful child.” Amelia rocked her gently.

His stare intensified. “I wish to speak with you. Would you care to come into the library?”

She recalled the entire episode from the night before. “I am very busy this morning. Can it wait?”

His expression hardened. “No, Miss Greystone, it cannot.”

“Very well.” Not looking at him, Lucille in her arms, she started across the kitchens. He followed.

“What are you doing?”

“I am adjourning to the library, my lord.”

“Can you please hand over the child?”

“I prefer not to,” she said, but she clutched Lucille so tightly that the baby wailed.

Simon jumped.

Amelia sighed, suddenly near tears. Mrs. Murdock was on her feet, at once anxious and surprised, and she handed the infant to her. “I will be right back,” she said, but whether she spoke to the nurse or the child, she did not know. Then she faced Simon, who was waiting for her, appearing entirely displeased.

He nodded at her and she marched ahead of him, out of the kitchens, and toward the library. He followed in silence. And when she entered the room, he closed both doors behind them.

She said, “Is that necessary?”

“I see I am being punished for my bad judgment.” His stare was searching.

“Children are punished.”

“Reprimanded, then.”

“If you wish to consort with your mistress, that is not my affair.”

“But it is affecting our friendship.”

“What do you want, Grenville?” She trembled. “Do you want my forgiveness? Understanding?” Do you like her more than you like me? she almost asked.

He was grim. “I do not know what I want.... But I cannot stand having hurt you, Amelia. Surely you know that.”

She suddenly stared into his eyes. Hadn’t Julianne worried that Simon was playing her all over again? “I have always trusted you,” she said truthfully, “but I am beginning to believe that you are not trustworthy.”

He winced. “I am not.”

She was stunned.

He turned away. “I am very sorry you had to find out what you did. Amelia? Please attend my children and leave me to my affairs.”

He was asking her to stay out of his business. “I believe I have learned my lesson,” she said, but even as she spoke, she thought about the rest of his strange behavior. Why did he expect marauders to come to his front door in the middle of the night? Why did he sleep with a gun beside his bed? Did he know Georges Danton? Why did he dream of blood and death?

And then she realized she was doing precisely the opposite of what he had asked. She dismissed her questions.

“I cannot believe you are surrendering so instantly,” he said.

She shrugged. “My concern is the children. If they are not in harm’s way, then I am pleased.” But she wanted to cry.

He was as grim. “On that note, I began to go through my mail this morning from yesterday. I have heard from Southland.”

She froze. “What does he intend to do?”

“He says he will call on me this week, but has not indicated if he will take Lucille or not.”

Amelia felt her knees buckle. She was exhausted and anguished, and she feared collapsing.

Simon swept his arm around her. “You are pale. Are you going to faint?”

For one moment, she clung. He was strong and powerful, and in his arms she felt cherished and safe.

But it was a lie.

She let him go. “No. Is that all?” She managed to sound brisk.

“Have I lost my friend?” he asked.

She decided not to answer, and she went to the door.

“Amelia,” he said, causing her to halt. “There is one more thing. You are to forget that you ever saw me leaving this house last night, much less in a disguise.”

She half turned to look at him. He added, “And you are to share my confession with no one.”

Of course he would not want new gossip added to the old. Somehow Amelia nodded. “I happen to be discreet,” she said. And when he stared so unwaveringly that her heart leaped, she hurried away.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

A
MELIA
HAD
JUST
RECEIVED
the most welcome news—her sister and Lady D’Archand had called! Her spirits had remained impossibly low all morning. Not only did she have Simon’s affair to brood about, she was worried that Southland would appear at any moment and take Lucille away from them.

Taking off her apron, she thanked Lloyd for the news. “Would you please make up some refreshments for us?” she asked breathlessly. She no longer cared that she was just the housekeeper. She wished to entertain her sister. Besides, Julianne was a countess, and she could hardly be put in the kitchen. She had never needed her sister and her dear friend more.

It was early afternoon. Simon had gone out before lunch, declaring that he would be dining with some associates. Amelia had refused to even look at him, and he had finally turned and left. The boys had taken their lunch in the classroom, and now they were both on horseback with their riding master. Julianne’s timing could not have been better.

Amelia rushed into the large, formal red-and-gold salon where Lloyd had escorted the women. As she went inside, she passed a brown trunk in the front hall and she wondered if Simon was leaving. Her heart lurching, she paused on the threshold of the opulent room. Neither woman had taken a seat, and they both turned and smiled as one.

She forgot about being hurt and anguished. “I am so happy to see you both,” she cried.

Julianne’s eyes widened. “Are you all right?”

Amelia did not answer, hugging Julianne first. Simon’s treachery hurt her so! She turned to Nadine, fighting sudden tears. And as she was embraced in return, she caught their reflections in the mirror hanging on one red wall.

Nadine was a petite but stunning brunette, resplendently dressed in a royal-blue gown and some small sapphires. Julianne was wearing crimson and rubies. Both women wore their natural hair, but Nadine had her long tresses curled and pulled to one side with blue ribbons, while Julianne wore an elaborate red-and-gold headdress with white lace. Both women were smiling, and obviously in good spirits.

Amelia, on the other hand, was wearing a dove-gray cotton dress that fit very much like a potato sack. She was pale and wan. She wore no jewelry, and her hair was in a single, unflattering braid.

No wonder Simon preferred someone else, she thought, inhaling.

“I was so delighted to hear that you are in town,” Nadine said, smiling. “But I was surprised when I had learned that you had taken a position in St. Just’s household!” She gazed closely at her, clearly wondering what was wrong.

Amelia glanced at Julianne, who gave her an innocent look. She realized that her sister had yet to say a thing. Finding composure, she took Nadine’s hand and clasped it tightly. “I have known Grenville for years. He has been my neighbor ever since I can recall. We even had a flirtation once, long ago. When I went to his wife’s funeral, it was obvious that his children were in desperate need. I could not turn my back on them.”

Julianne made a sound.

Nadine glanced at her and asked, “And how are the children managing?” Her look was bright and interested, but she would never ask about the so-called flirtation and Amelia knew it.

“They are doing very well. In fact, I would love you to meet the boys if they return early enough from their riding lesson. And you must meet Lucille.” And to her horror, she felt her smile falter. The pain kept bubbling up in her heart. Simon had betrayed her—again. Yet she was foolish enough to have trusted him a second time.

Julianne patted her shoulder. “Is Lucille all right? Has something happened?”

She swallowed. “Southland has finally contacted us. He will call this week. Whether he will take her or not, he hasn’t said.”

Julianne looked worriedly at her. “I know you have fallen in love with her, but it would be for the best if her father claimed her.”

“I know,” Amelia managed to say, and more anguish went through her. The house would not be the same without Lucille in it.

“I would love to see the infant,” Nadine said. “Even though I doubt I will ever have children of my own, I so adore them.”

Amelia glanced at her friend. They had become close during the winter. Nadine had been a constant visitor at Greystone Manor.

Once, she had been engaged to Bedford—they had been friends since childhood. Now she and Julianne were the best of friends, and Bedford was like a brother to her. She had only arrived in Britain last spring—almost two years ago, she had been caught up in a riot in Paris and left for dead. She did not speak very much of the time she had spent in France, during the revolution. But she was very political and loyal to the émigrés fleeing her country. Amelia was certain she had been involved in helping her peers escape France before she had herself fled.

Nadine was open about the fact that the war had completely changed her life. She had lost her home, her mother, her friends. She had also lost all interest in marriage. She had no time for suitors.

“When you finally fall in love, you will change your mind,” Julianne stated.

Nadine simply smiled, clearly not believing that she would ever fall in love. “Perhaps. But until then, I am going to enjoy being a near aunt to your daughter, and maybe to Lucille and Grenville’s sons.” She looked at Amelia. “Even though we are St. Just’s neighbors, we have never met him. Is he in?” The D’Archand family had relocated to the St. Just parish in Cornwall.

She felt another pang. “He has left, perhaps for the day. I wouldn’t know.”

Julianne seized her hand. “What has he done?”

Amelia felt tears arise. “I am a fool!”

Nadine looked back and forth between them, then handed Amelia her handkerchief.

Amelia dried her eyes. “Nadine, it was more than a flirtation. When I was sixteen Simon pursued me and I fell madly in love. One day he left Cornwall—never to return.”

“I am sorry,” Nadine said sympathetically.

“I was truly over him. I had forgotten all about him. It was ten years ago. But when we met again at his wife’s funeral, it was as if nothing had changed. His children weren’t the only ones who needed me. He needed me—and I could not help myself. I had to meddle, I had to comfort him. I took this position, as awkward as it was.” She wiped her eyes again.

Julianne put her arm around her. “Has he played you?” Anger laced her tone.

“Yes, he has,” Amelia answered, and she broke away to sit down.

Both women sat with her. Julianne put her arm around her and Nadine took her hand. Her sister asked, fiercely, “What happened?”

“I caught him going out at midnight last night.” Her heart hurt her again. “I was concerned—he was in an elaborate disguise, in fact. I was so afraid he was following in Bedford’s footsteps. But when I confronted him an hour later, he confessed that he had been with his lover. Julianne, what am I going to do?”

Julianne had dropped her arm. “He went out in disguise?”

“Why would he disguise himself to meet a mistress?” Nadine asked.

Amelia looked back and forth between them. Both were wide-eyed and concerned.

“And he was only gone for an hour?” Julianne asked.

“All told, I would say an hour and fifteen minutes or so,” Amelia said, beginning to comprehend what both of her friends were thinking. She added tersely, “He took a gun and he was hardly recognizable—he chalked his entire face.”

Julianne stood up. “He claimed he was with a lover—or a woman of ill repute?”

Amelia also stood. “He said he has a lover, Julianne. He was firm—he does not care for and has never been with a prostitute.”

Julianne began shaking her head. “I might believe him if he had said he had gone to a prostitute. No man would linger with that kind of woman. But a lover? Are you telling me he disguised himself, took a gun and ran off in the middle of the night to spend a few minutes with a lover?”

“Maybe he is a poor lover?” Nadine interjected, with some humor.

“He is not a poor lover,” Amelia said, without thinking.

They stared at her.

Amelia felt herself blush.

“He did not go off to meet a lover,” Julianne stated. “Not for a half an hour, not in disguise, not with a gun.”

“Perhaps you should tell me what is really going on,” Nadine added firmly.

* * *

W
HEN
J
ULIANNE
AND
N
ADINE
left, Amelia returned to the salon, closing both doors behind her. Alone, she walked over to the sofa and collapsed upon it.

And once there, she could not move. She was emotionally exhausted.

How could she have believed, even for a moment, that Simon had gone to another woman?

She stretched out, shoes and all, and tears finally spilled. Of course Simon hadn’t gone to a mistress last night. Julianne and Nadine were right. Even if he feared gossip, he would never get up such an elaborate disguise, and he would not have returned so swiftly. She recalled being in his arms. If he had been with another woman, she would have smelled some perfume or fragrance!

He was in danger after all.

She had reiterated all of her suspicions to both women; she had detailed all of his strange behavior. Nadine’s reaction had been frightening. She had become paler and paler the longer Amelia spoke.

“He knew Danton,” she had said tersely. “I feel certain. Danton was only recently executed, that is why he was dreaming of him.”

Amelia had been so frightened.

She was frightened now.

He must be in terrible jeopardy, if he would tell her such a monstrous lie—if he would choose to hurt her instead of telling her the truth.

And she knew what she had to do. As he wasn’t going to be honest with her, she was going to have to uncover the truth herself—even if it meant spying on him. If she were not so exhausted just then, she would begin immediately with a thorough search of his desk and library.

But Rome wasn’t built in a day.

She had full run of his house. She would have many opportunities to go through his desk, his library and his private apartments. Amelia closed her eyes.

On the one hand, she was relieved. On the other, she was so frightened....

But now, she had two confidantes. Nadine had told her that she remained in touch with a great many “friends” in France. She was going to make some very clandestine inquiries, without using names, without putting Simon in any more danger than he was already in. Bedford had claimed that he did not know anything about Simon, but Julianne was going to press him.

And just as Amelia was drifting off, a knock sounded on the salon doors. She somehow managed to fight off the heavy stupor of her fatigue, sitting up and sighing. “Yes?”

Lloyd opened the door. “I am so sorry to interrupt, Miss Greystone, but you have another caller. Mr. Thomas Treyton is here to see you.”

Fear arose.

“Miss Greystone?”

Tom Treyton had once been a friend of the family’s—and a suitor of Julianne’s. He had been to Greystone Manor a hundred times over the years. But he had been a radical, even before the revolution. And recently, he had not only sympathized with the Jacobins, he had been actively working for them on behalf of the French republic. Amelia knew this because, once upon a time, Julianne had been working with him to help the French defeat their country. Tom was so actively involved in the war that he had even been arrested by the British authorities last summer. For old time’s sake, Julianne had begged Bedford to help arrange his release. She had feared he would hang as a traitor.

Amelia wanted to send him away now. She was tired and frightened—she wasn’t certain she could manage this development. For Julianne was no longer friendly with Tom. Even though she had arranged his release, she had mentioned that he had become so dangerously political, she considered him an enemy.

But of course, that had been months ago.

Why was Tom calling? Had he changed his leanings? Was this a social call? Amelia knew she must invite him in and find out if he was still an old friend—or a new enemy.

“Send him in, please,” she said.

Tom entered the room. Amelia came forward, smiling. “Lloyd, thank you. And you may close the door.” She took Tom’s hand in hers. “This is such a pleasant surprise!” But her heart was thundering as their gazes met.

Tom was Julianne’s age, four years younger than her. He was of average height, boyishly attractive and blond. He wore a white wig, a camel-velvet coat and tan breeches. “Hello, Amelia. I heard you had taken up here as Grenville’s housekeeper.”

She was taken aback because he seemed amused. Or was she imagining that? “Hello, Tom. It has been ages. I am glad to see you. When I saw St. Just’s children at the funeral, my heart went out to them. Shortly thereafter, Grenville availed himself upon me.”

“I can imagine you as a housekeeper—I do not mean to be insulting, but you have always managed Greystone Manor in the most excellent way,” he said lightly. “And of course, you have known Grenville for years.”

She felt some alarm. Surely he did not know of that long-ago affair, did he? “He has been my neighbor since I was a small child. How are you, Tom? Are you practicing in London now?” Tom was a barrister.

“We do not get many calls from accused smugglers here in town,” he laughed. “So I still practice at home. However, I have become very fond of town. There is so much to see and do. And you? Do you enjoy being in town? I always thought you more inclined to a life in the country.”

She wondered how long the small chitchat would last. “I love the country—I miss home—but I also love town. Not that I have had a moment to go out, except to see Julianne, as I am so terribly busy with this house.” The moment she spoke, she wished she hadn’t.

He smiled. “And how is the countess?”

She stiffened. “She is fine. I hope you do not hold grudges, Tom. Julianne is happily wed.”

“Yes, she loves his lordship, and they have a child.” He shrugged. “I was very fond of her once. I am happy for her.”

Amelia hoped he was telling the truth.

“How is your mother? Have you seen your brothers? I take it they are well?”