The Lost Love of a Stunning Lady: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Bridget Barton

  “Maman! Now it is I who am shocked. The Duke didn’t come to my birthday dinner. As you recall, he didn’t send a salutation or any explanation of his absence. Why he didn’t even respond to the invitation that was issued to him. That shows that he could care less about me. He likes the attention of young women. That is all. And on the night of my dinner, it appeared, he had found someone more enchanting.”

  “Ce n’est pas vrai.”

  “Yes, Maman, it is true. The Duke can have his choice of any woman he wants. I’m not special. I have no dowry. I’m barely bourgeoisie.”

  “That is not true. The Hancocks are firmly entrenched in the newly wealthy middle class, Mimi. And it is all due to your father’s shrewd planning and focused hard work. Why your grandfather Hancock was a butcher after all. Your father had raised his parents and his siblings up to the middle class with his diligence.

  “You will have a dowry, even if I have to sell the land I own. There are my own vineyards and the acreage your father bought. He signed everything over to me in his revised will.”

  “I see there’s no actual discussion to be had about this. You’ve made all the plans. And now I am informed of them after all the facts are in place and all the arrangements have been made. I had no say in any of it. I have no say at all.”

  “You will feel differently when we are settled in Paris, mon ange.”

  “I will not feel differently, Maman. You mean to move me away and marry me off to a complete stranger. All so you can have what you want.”

  “Mimi, I am looking out for your best welfare. Marriage needs to be handled delicately. I want you to be happy. And comfortable. More importantly, I want you to be secure. Financially.”

  “But I love Richard. And what if Napoleon’s campaign should come to Paris? What if Austria or Russia or Prussia decides to invade. Mon Dieu, what if England and the Spanish and Portuguese invade?”

  “It won’t happen. The soldiers are far off in Badajoz, in Spain. There is a siege going on there. The English soldiers are encamped all around the city. But if by some chance they did come towards Paris, we would leave and go up to Belgium as I said. Paris is the only place for us at this time, Mimi. And you must remember, it is as easy to love a rich man as to love a poor man, mon petit chou. And much more comfortable.”

  “How can you say such a thing? You, who loved my father so much you left Paris and possible marriage to an Earl to be with him.”

  “I loved your father desperately, Mimi. And he was not a rich man. I went without much to be with him. My own dear papa nearly disowned me. If not for my maman, I should have no vineyards in Provence, and you and I would have no means of leaving London because I would have been thought of as dead to my family.

  “It was not easy for me. Or, for your father. The fact that he and I loved each other did not put food on our dinner table, mon ange. You don’t remember what the early days were like. For a time, it seemed as if we could live on our love for one another. But sooner or later real life intrudes on the fantasy.”

  “So because you fear you made a mistake, I am left with no recourse but to accompany you to Paris?”

  “It’s not so cut and dry as that, Mimi. S’il te plait. Try to understand. There are so many memories here for me. Painful memories. I keep thinking I’ll see your father walk into the sitting room, smiling and saying something funny. He loved to make people laugh. He loved to make me laugh.” Marie broke into fresh tears.

  “Je suis desolee’, Maman. I’m sorry, truly I am. I … I wasn’t thinking. I was being selfish. Of course, we will go to Paris and Aunt Marguerite. There, there, don’t worry.” Mimi took her mother in her arms and rocked her back and forth as if she were the mother and Marie the child.

  “Mrs Gauthier?” Mimi called.

  The housekeeper came to the door of the room. “Yes, Mademoiselle.”

  “Will you make up something for my mother. She is growing near to hysterical.” Mimi stroked her sobbing mother’s hair.

  “Straight away, Mademoiselle.” The housekeeper stepped into the kitchen for a few moments. When she came back, Marie was standing, ready to go up to her bedroom.

  “Good night, Mimi, mon ange.” She took Mrs Gauthier’s arm.

  “Good night, Maman.”

  Mimi sat back on the sofa and must have dozed off, because the next thing she knew, the mantle clock said 10 o’clock. Every part of her body ached, and she felt stiff. She knew she should go up to her chamber, but she was so, so tired. She pulled the lap robe up around her chest and shoulders.

  She glanced at the clock again. Marie had long since retired after the calming tonic that Mrs Gauthier had made up for her. Mimi needed to be alone for a bit. She felt heavy. Maybe she would sleep here, on the sofa. The fire would burn low, but no matter. She was numb.

  She would never see her father again. And she would never see her love, Richard, again. Ever. Had he known that his father was taking over the bank? She sighed and gazed into the fireplace. The room was tiny and warm, but nothing could take the chill from Mimi’s heart. She felt she doubted Richard. She doubted his intentions. He must have known she would be leaving London. He must have. Or did he want to marry her so he could keep her father’s house? Did he have a nefarious plan that would move him up and leave her, somehow, displaced? If not physically, then emotionally?

  She heard someone coming in through the back area. She reckoned Camille might have been out for a bit with her beau. The individual kept walking, though. The steps didn’t turn off at the servants’ hall. They kept right on until they came to the door of the sitting room.

  “Mimi.” Richard had opened the door and stood in the hallway. “How are you, my love? Do you need anything?”

  “There is a great deal that I need, dear heart. I have it from my maman that we are to leave in the morning.”

  “Leave? I don’t understand.”

  “Oh, do you really expect me to believe that?”

  “Yes, of course, I do. What do you mean by asking such a question? Why would you not believe me?”

  “I don’t wish to play this game, Richard.”

  “Surely, I don’t understand. Mimi, what game are you referring to? I have no reason or desire to play with your emotions. I would never deceive you in any way if that’s what you’re getting at.”

  “My mother has informed me that she’s sold her part of the bank to your father. You mean to tell me that you didn’t know he was planning on taking over Warren Hancock and Company? Your father bought my mother’s fifty-one shares, and my father is barely in the grave. Mr Warren is the sole owner of the bank now, and my mother and I are forced to go, tomorrow morning, to Paris. We are leaving London, Richard. For good. Maman is speaking to my father’s lawyer about selling this house. The only home I’ve ever known. How could you have kept this all to yourself? Why didn’t you tell me? I could have talked to Maman about it. There could have been another solution.”

  “Mimi. I assure you, I had no knowledge of it.” Richard stopped and took a slow deep breath before continuing, “I was given no information about anything you’re telling me. Come now, shall I ring for Nancy to bring you something to calm you? You’re distraught, darling. Emotionally exhausted.”

  “I want you to leave. I … I never should have trusted you. You have betrayed me. If you knew your father would insist on a buyout ...”

  “Come now, dear. You are beside yourself. I have not betrayed you. I knew nothing about the transfer of shares until just now. You’re beside yourself, mon amour.”

  Mimi cradled her face in her hands.

  Richard stood in the doorway. He said nothing, and Mimi broke forth in a fresh torrent of wracking sobs. She placed her hands in her lap and glared at him. “Go away, Richard. I do not wish to see you.”

  “Nancy?” Richard stepped away from the sitting room and went down the corridor to the servants’ hall. Poking his head around the door frame he called to the maid once more.

  “Yes, Mr Warren. What
may I help you with? Does Mademoiselle need something?”

  “Miss Hancock is distraught. She is on the sofa in the sitting room. I’m concerned for her. She is talking gibberish. Will you see to her?”

  “Ah, yes. I see, Mr Warren.” The girl nodded her head seriously. “Yes, of course, I’ll see to her. Never you mind.”

  “Thank you, Nancy.” He smiled at the housemaid and headed out by the back area wondering if he was supposed to have tipped the maid.

  *******

  “Mademoiselle. Wake up. It’s time to get ready. You have a long day ahead of you.”

  “Yes, thank you, Giselle. How is Maman? Is she awake?”

  “She is, Mademoiselle, and is as well as can be expected, I imagine. However, she did get a good sleep last night. Mrs Gauthier made up a posset, and she slept like a baby.”

  “I know she had the posset. It’s good to hear that she slept well. She was so overwhelmed by everything.”

  “Yes, Miss. And you? Are you well? Were you able to sleep?”

  “Yes. I fell asleep on the sofa in the family sitting room. I … I believe Nancy helped me to my bed.”

  “Yes, Miss, I know. You were quite upset with young Mr Warren.”

  Mimi rolled her eyes. “Oh that. It seems no one can be trusted. My whole life is topsy-turvy. And leaving London so suddenly is jarring. I haven’t even had a chance to say goodbye to Bella. I have to send a card. I am so upset with Richard; I can’t believe he betrayed me as he did.”

  “May I speak frankly, Mademoiselle?”

  “There are no secrets between us, Giselle.”

  “Very well. Miss Mimi, I don’t understand why you feel Mr Richard has been untruthful. He is the second son, Mademoiselle. I daresay his father does not discuss business with him. His brother will own the bank one day, not Mr Richard. Second sons are not privy to the same family and business information that first sons are. From what I understand, and please do not take this out of context, Nancy heard your words to Mr Richard. She was just in the kitchen, so couldn’t help it. Mr Richard was quite worried about you, Mademoiselle.”

  “Oh.” For some reason Giselle’s response made her feel slightly uncomfortable. She decided not to dwell on it and set about eating the buttered roll from the tray Giselle had brought into the chamber.

  As she chewed, Mimi mused about Richard. She didn’t remember his leaving. Her mother would be appalled that she had spoken with him with no chaperone present even though he never left the shelter of the doorway. But, as Lavinia had said, they were dealing with extenuating circumstances. And Richard had never entered the room. Of that she was sure.

  She wondered if or how she could contact him. She realised she’d been unfair and accusatory towards him. Had he been upset with her? She smirked. It didn’t matter what either one of them thought. They would never be in one another’s company ever again.

  But what if there was some way they could find each other? What if her path and Richard’s should cross again in some future place? There was an inexplicable pull between the two of them. They both had felt it since the first day they’d met on the beach in Cromer. Then their paths had crossed when Richard moved to London. Would they find each other again?

  She’d been so grief stricken the night before. She’d been hostile and difficult, and she feared she’d put doubt in his mind as to her love for him. She’d been confused and overwhelmed. She had to let him know she’d been wrong. She’d lashed out unfairly, and she couldn’t leave him without some word of explanation and a request for forgiveness. She couldn’t leave without telling him, in some way and one last time, that she loved him.

  Wherever they each would find themselves in their lives, she needed him to know that she loved him now. When he came to the end of his days, she wanted him to look back to this time in his life and know she had loved him deeply, purely, and with her entire being.

  “Giselle.”

  “Yes, Mademoiselle?”

  “Where are the scissors? The ones you use for my hair.”

  “Why, right there. In the top drawer of your vanity, Mademoiselle.”

  “Tre bien.” Mimi opened the drawer and searched among the trinkets, empty perfume vials, and bits of ribbon. “Ah. Here. Giselle, come. Cut a lock of my hair.”

  “Mademoiselle! What do you mean?”

  “I mean just what I say. Cut a lock from my hair, a curl. Just a tiny one. Something that will fit inside this locket.”

  “But Miss. That’s from your parents.”

  “I know. And it’s very important that I use it to get a … a message to someone.”

  “Young Mr Warren, Mademoiselle?”

  “Y … yes. Now. Cut the lock, please. There isn’t much time.”

  “Yes, Miss.”

  Giselle cut the curl of hair from the end of Mimi’s long black tresses.

  “Here you are, Mademoiselle.”

  Mimi accepted the little tress and placed it within the locket. “Now, Giselle. I want you to take this to the Warrens’ townhouse.” Mimi wrapped the necklace in a clean handkerchief that held her initials, embroidered by herself.

  “Give this to Blackmore. He can be trusted. He’s Camille’s beau.”

  Giselle gasped. “Oh my. I had no idea.”

  “Well, now the cat’s out of the bag. In fact, when the rest of you come to Paris, I think she will stay behind, here in London. I heard her speaking to my mother the other night. But they were in the drawing room, and the door was closed.”

  “Actually, ask Camille to take the locket over to the Warrens. Tell her to go to the back area, through the mews and the garden. I have no wish for my mother to know any of this. It would only upset her.”

  “Oui, Mademoiselle. My goodness. Camille and Blackmore. It’s been right under my nose this whole time. I wish them well.”

  “Yes, as do I. Camille deserves some happiness. And love.”

  “She does, Mademoiselle. Everyone does. That includes you and young Mr Warren as well. Give me the locket. I’ll give it to Camille and not let on a word of anything I’ve just learned. And Blackmore? He’s discreet? You say he can be trusted?”

  “Yes, he can. He is quite discreet and trustworthy. Now, let me give you a hug, Giselle. I won’t see you for a few weeks.”

  “Not until we get the house ready for sale. Au revoir, Mademoiselle Mimi. Bon voyage.”

  “Merci. Au revoir, Giselle.”

  *******

  There was a knock on the bedchamber door. Young Richard Warren had just opened his eyes to a raging headache. The news he’d received the night before had caused him to go home and drink. Brandy. All he remembered of the night was Mimi’s odd mood and the news she’d given him. She was leaving London this very morning and going to France with her mother. She would be in Paris in a week’s time. She might already be en route.

  He sat up in his bed, wincing, and reached for a full glass of claret on the table nearby. He downed the garnet liquid in one gulp.

  “Come in.”

  Blackmore strode into the chamber holding a packet which he handed to young Warren. “Good morning, Mr Richard.”

  “Thank you, Blackmore. What is this? Ugh.” He held his head between his hands. “Will you get me some coffee?” He looked at the valet, and then turned the packet over in his hands.

  “MHL.”

  “A packet from Miss Hancock, Mr Warren.”

  “Marie Louise Hancock. Yes.” Richard turned the packet over once more. “What is this about, do you think?”

  “If I were to venture a guess, Mr Richard, I’d say it was a parting gift from the young lady. I dare say she will not have the time to see you before leaving.”

  “If she even wanted to see me. We had a misunderstanding last evening.”

  “Possibly it’s an apology then.”

  Richard held the packet up again and turned it over. “I wonder what it could be.”

  “It’s clearly a gift of some sort. That should put your mind at ease. When people
are angry they don’t send gifts.”

  “Hmmm. It’s awfully forward of her. If her mother knew about this, there would most definitely be trouble.”

  “I feel sure Mrs Hancock has no knowledge of the packet. Camille brought it here and gave it directly to me.”

  Richard nodded. “Good to know, good to know.” He placed the packet on the bed and cradled his head in his hands once more.”

  “I’ll fetch your coffee, Mr Richard.”

  “Thank you, Blackmore.”

  The valet left the chamber. Richard waited a moment then, deciding he could put it off no longer, went about opening the packet. He untied the ribbon that bound the miniature parcel and slowly peeled back the handkerchief wrapper to reveal the contents.