Authors: Francesca
Marcus was white. The Prince’s tone had been cutting, and the rebuke both public and powerful. It was the worst yet of the consequences of his Parisian débâcle.
‘Sir, let me explain—’ Francesca began.
‘It is not at all necessary, Miss Beaudon,’ said the Prince, smiling at her. ‘You cannot be held to blame in this matter.’
‘That’s not what I meant, sir. I wish to make it quite clear why Lord Carne is innocent of the charges at present in circulation against him.’
‘Francesca!’
‘Really, sir, what can this woman know of such matters?’
Marcus’s despairing cry and Lord Coker’s contemptuous question came together.
The Prince looked at them both dispassionately. Francesca
saw for the first time those qualities in him which made him royal. ‘My lords, you will allow me to deal with this in my own way, if you please! I agree, Coker, that Miss Beaudon is probably not aware of the true nature of Lord Carne’s…indiscretions—I am not prepared to call his conduct worse than that at the moment—but the lady’s manner seems to me to carry conviction. It intrigues me.’
Marcus took a deep breath and approached the Prince. ‘Sir, Miss Beaudon is overwrought. She does not know what she is saying. Send her home, I beg you.’
The Prince looked at him, a frown on his normally amiable face. ‘You know, Carne, what intrigues me most of all is why you do not wish me to listen to the lady.’
‘Miss Beaudon is impulsive and quixotic, sir.’
‘Are you trying to save Miss Beaudon against herself? I find that hard to believe. And I have small inclination to listen to someone I should much prefer not to have to meet—at the moment.’
‘Oh sir, please do not speak so, I beg you!’ cried Francesca. ‘You cannot know it, but you are being truly unjust to Lord Carne. He does not deserve your disapprobation.’
‘Now why do you say that, Miss Beaudon? How can you possibly know why Carne is in disgrace?’
‘I was in Paris at the time. Lord Carne escorted me back to England.’ An audible sigh went up from the company.
The Prince looked grave as he said, ‘I am not sure that you would be wise to go any further, Miss Beaudon.’
‘I must! I went at my father’s request to deal with some urgent business. He was unable to go himself—if you remember, sir, he was taken ill at White’s a little while ago. I believe he was attacked there.’
With a glance at Lord Coker, the Prince said, ‘Go on.’
‘Lord Carne followed me there. He was of the opinion that I might do something foolish. And I did. I went, in error, to
a place where no lady should ever be found. I will not mention its name, but Lord Coker apparently knows it well.’
Lord Coker laughed contemptuously. ‘This is a farrago of nonsense, sir! The lady is clearly making this up in a ridiculous attempt to reinstate Carne. She must be besotted. Why waste your time with her?’
‘I find myself for once in agreement with Coker, sir. Miss Beaudon is ill—let me take her home. Come, Francesca.’ Marcus took her arm again.
Francesca shook him off and took a step forward. ‘I
will
speak! The Prince deserves the truth.’
The Prince Regent regarded the slender figure in white and silver, who had just spoken with such passionate conviction. ‘The situation is unusual. I think I’d like to hear what Miss Beaudon finds so important, that she risks her own reputation.’
Marcus groaned and turned away.
Francesca said, raising her voice a little so that everyone who wished could hear, ‘Lord Carne came to rescue me from a place in Paris which was not only morally undesirable, but one which he knew to be politically dangerous. I had gone there in all innocence, but if I was seen there, particularly by anyone who knew me, my reputation would be soiled beyond repair. On the other hand, if he was seen there, his own reputation and his career in politics would be destroyed forever. He chose to take that risk. In the event he was seen. By Lord Coker, who has no cause to love him, and who, I assume, has been behind the campaign to blacken his name.’
‘I still say this is nonsense! Carne has put her up to this! No lady would ever go near—’
‘The
Maison des Anges
? But I was there, Lord Coker! I saw you and two others coming up the stairs, I heard the salacious remarks you made about the statues there, and I listened as the Comtesse Rehan offered you the…attentions
of a lady who had once been a…a Sultan’s concubine.’ A scandalised gasp from those present, followed by murmurs of protest, caused her to pause. But she put up her chin and went on bravely, ‘I was hiding in the alcove, trembling with fear of discovery when Mr Chantry and Lord Witham defied the Countess and came to look for Lord Carne. Is that enough?’
‘Good God!’ Lord Coker turned away from her. ‘What sort of woman are you?’
There were more murmurs and a general withdrawal from Francesca’s vicinity.
Marcus swept the crowd with a glance of scorn. Then he said, ‘True, loyal and fearless. Strongminded to the point of obstinacy where the happiness of those she loves is concerned. Lord Coker would be fortunate indeed if such a woman ever stooped to do so much for him. Ask her to tell you why she was in Paris.’
‘My dear Carne, I will do no such thing!’ Lord Coker said loftily. ‘The sooner Miss Beaudon realises her presence here is embarrassing us, the better.’
Francesca’s public acknowledgement of her catastrophic mistake had taken more out of her than she had expected, and she was now suffering from reaction. She was trembling, but she faced the Prince Regent proudly and her voice was clear as she said, ‘Sir, I assure you, it was always my intention to relieve Society of my presence after tonight—I have no wish to embarrass anyone.’
The Prince frowned, then said, ‘Lord Coker was overhasty. I should like to hear why you were in Paris, Miss Beaudon, even if Lord Coker doesn’t.’
‘I had a nurse as a child whom I loved very dearly. My father sent me to find her and bring her to England. But when I went to her house, I was told she had been taken ill. She had sought refuge with her only friend in Paris, a lady who
happens to be the
directrice
of…of…the place where Lord Carne found me. I had no idea of its nature. I cannot imagine what would have happened to me if I had been found there by anyone other than Lord Carne. He behaved throughout with integrity and honour.’
Her voice shook with the intensity of her feelings as she went on, ‘And it is wrong, cruelly wrong, that he is being made to suffer for my folly, and another’s malice.’ She swallowed. ‘Forgive me, sir, I…I cannot say any more. It has been too much. Too much.’ She curtsied hastily and hurried out of the ballroom.
‘Follow her, Carne. Look after her.’ As Marcus turned to obey, the Prince Regent added, ‘And, Carne…I should like you to come and see me as soon as you can.’
Marcus bowed and left the room.
He caught up with Francesca as she hurried down the stairs to the entrance hall. ‘You were magnificent!’ he said.
‘Please…don’t say anything. Now that it’s all over, I find I am not nearly so brave as I thought. The look on some of those faces…’
Francesca’s carriage was waiting at the doors. They got in, and Francesca gave way to her tears. Marcus took her in his arms.
‘Hush, Francesca, my love. Why are you crying? You must compose yourself—we have some unfinished business, if you remember. You asked me a question tonight, and I still have an answer to give you.’
‘Oh, what must you think of me?’ she sobbed.
‘If you will stop ruining my coat, I will tell you. Here, let me.’ He tenderly wiped her face with his handkerchief.
‘How do I know that you’re not just sorry for me?’ Francesca sobbed, tears breaking out afresh. ‘You were once before.’
‘You’re being absurd! Come, Francesca. Pull yourself
together. You must know that I love you beyond words. More than my career, my reputation, my life! If I had realised all those years ago what you would come to mean to me, I could have saved us both a great deal of inconvenience and unhappiness. Do I need to tell you that you’re the only woman in the world for me? Look at me, Francesca. Did you mean it when you asked me to marry you? Or were you just playing with my affections?’
‘Oh, Marcus!’ She looked up, laughing through her tears.
‘We’ll go down to Packards tomorrow. Then we shall marry as soon as it can be arranged. And after that I’ll love you, and treasure you, all my life.’ He tilted her face to his and kissed her gently. Then he looked at her; in the dark blue depths of his eyes was all the love, honesty, humour and passion that belonged to this man she loved—had loved for so long. She smiled at him. Then, as he kissed her again, less gently, she laughed for joy, and threw her arms round his neck, responding as she always did—and always would.
It was quite some time after the carriage had drawn to a halt in Mount Street before Lord Carne handed Miss Beaudon out and escorted her to her door.
‘Till tomorrow,’ was all she said as she gave him her hand. He took it to his lips.
‘And all that it brings.’
‘Disgrace, ignominy, rejection from Society?’
‘Possibly, but why should that worry us? If the world does find it impossible to forgive us—though I suspect that sadly that will not be the case—then we shall have peace to enjoy each other, and more than enough to occupy us at Carne and at Shelwood. But you did your work too well tonight—I think the Prince Regent is disposed to be kind.’
‘I could think of something else to shock them all, if that is your wish?’
Unheeding of the groom patiently waiting by the carriage,
and of the butler standing in the hall, Marcus laughed delightedly and caught her in his arms again. ‘I have no doubt that life with you will always hold shocks, my love—you seem unable to avoid them—but they should be confined to your long-suffering husband. He’s used to them. Leave Society to shift for itself!’
I
t had been a beautiful day, and now in the early evening a slight breeze had got up, bringing a welcome freshness to the warm air. Shelwood glowed in the mellow autumn sunshine, as the field workers returned to their homes. The crops were in, the barns and granaries were full. They could be reasonably certain of a safe, comfortable winter. They knew themselves to be fortunate. Shelwood was not only a prosperous estate, it was a happy one.
They smiled as they saw the little party approaching them. On their way back from Madame Elisabeth’s, no doubt. Miss Fanny was hanging on her lord’s arm like a bride, not a matron of four years! And Lord Carne looked as proud as any man could of his growing family—three bonny young bundles of mischief as they were. Little Miss Verity was the worst of the three of them, too, for all her angelic looks! There were those in the village who could remember Miss Fanny’s mother in the old days. From what they said, this one was just such another.
It had been a lucky day for Shelwood when Miss Fanny had returned with a new and handsome lord for a husband, though they could wish that the family spent more time at the Manor. But Lord Carne had his own estates in Hertfordshire to look
after, and it was said they also usually spent a month or two every year in London, visiting King George that had been Prince Regent for so long. But every summer they spent two or three months at Shelwood, visiting, walking, catching up with the news in the villages and farms. A proper lady, Lady Carne was. And her husband was a very gentlemanly gentleman.
Yes, Shelwood was the happiest place to be in all England.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-3814-9
FRANCESCA
Copyright © 1997 by Sylvia Andrew
First North American Publication 2009
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
® and TM are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
*
linked by character
*
linked by character
*
linked by character