George IV looked up as the last of his lunch was removed. His eyes swept over them as they bowed and he rose. He frowned as he came around the table and clasped his hands behind his back.
“Haviland.” He said as he nodded to Lucien. “I expected Cambroke and Lady St. Claire. Instead you’ve brought me the automaton.” George’s eyes narrowed as they fell on Alastair. He turned back to Lucien. “Where is she?”
“Lady St. Claire does not wish to present herself, Your Majesty. We have come to advise you on her behalf.” Lucien settled into a relaxed stance as Gilles crossed his arms. Alastair remained still, fighting the urge to pace.
“I have more advisors than I need. If I remember correctly, Lady St. Claire is one of my subjects, is she not?” George looked at the three of them expectantly.
“Sire, if I may, most of your advisers are worthless. Lady St. Claire has no interest in matters at court or politics.” Lucien said as he started to wander around the dining room. He picked up George’s wine glass and smelled it. He nodded in approval and set it back down. George raised an eyebrow.
“I don’t care what her interests are, the lady has an obligation to her king and her country.” He argued. Alastair clenched his jaw as Gilles stepped forward.
“Majesty, if you try to force Lady St. Claire, you’ll only buy yourself more trouble than any benefit you might gain. She is not the sort of woman that would be dictated to, she doesn't accept commands well. Lady St. Claire is particularly wary of those that would seek to use her for her name and influence.” Gilles said. George appeared shocked for a moment then shook his head.
“Regardless, she is a lady and must submit. All I ask is that she present herself and consider forming an alliance for the benefit of her monarch and country. I have no intentions of forcing her to do anything unreasonable. In fact, most women would be grateful to marry a duke and win their king’s favor.” George stated. Alastair felt his eye twitch. He stepped forward, probably a little too far forward.
“The lady’s affections are already engaged.” He said harshly. George stared for several moments.
“You?” He asked incredulously before he threw his head back and laughed. Lucien came alongside Alastair and waited. George settled and shook his head in dismay. “Truly Spencer, I believed that you favored men.” George chuckled. Lucien laughed and Alastair’s head pulled back in shock. He looked at Gilles and he cringed as he shrugged his shoulders. Alastair felt his brows pull together. What had he done to give such an impression? George rested his hand on Alastair’s shoulder and shook it. “Come now, we can do a lot better than allying a Capet and a Spencer.” He looked back at Gilles. “No offense, Cambroke.” Gilles looked very offended. George raised his hand placatingly. “Your family has always served with dignity and loyalty and your influence is not to be underestimated but she is cousin to kings.” Lucien stepped forward and slightly in front of Alastair.
“I would advise you to give up any plans you have for Lady St. Claire and make do with an alliance between the Capets and the Spencers, Sire.” Lucien’s voice held no trace of humor and he no longer appeared relaxed. George’s head tilted and his eyes narrowed as they held Lucien’s.
“There is little advantage to be gained there, Haviland.” He said softly. Lucien grinned.
“There is much to be lost if you try to interfere.” Lucien held his gaze. “You would lose the support of the House of Clerendon, Cambroke and the Spencers.” He threatened gently. George’s eyes widened and swung around the room.
“You would put a woman before your loyalty to me and your country?” He asked incredulously. Lucien raised his hand in warning.
“Do not question our loyalty. We have served you well and given all that was asked of us. You of all people know what lengths we have gone to for our country.” Lucien was still as he dared George to contradict him. Eventually, he stood back and sighed in defeat.
“Very well, Haviland.” George said as he shook his head. “Remind me, why do I put up with your impertinence?” He asked. Lucien laughed.
“Because I have always been generous with my gold and you know that I’ve always protected you within court and the ton.” Lucien said as he inspected his nails. George raised a brow and nodded.
“I’m also fond of your wife. You should bring her next time and leave her brothers.” George announced as he returned to his seat. Lucien smiled as they bowed.
“Sire, I think you would feel very differently if you ever became acquainted with her.” Lucien joked as he rose. He grabbed Gilles and Alastair’s arms and turned to leave.
Once they were in the carriage and pulling away from the palace, Gilles relaxed.
“That went much better than I expected.” He chuckled. Lucien grinned as he nudged Alastair.
“Well done. The two of you may become friends yet!” Lucien teased. Alastair frowned at Lucien before he turned his gaze to the window.
He was relieved that it was over as well. The meeting hadn’t been as uncomfortable as he had expected and there was no longer any pressure on Giselle from that direction. There was only one thing that still weighed upon Alastair.
“Why would he think that I prefer men?” Alastair asked. Gilles and Lucien were silent for several moments before they started to roar with laughter. He got nothing out of them. By the time they arrived at Spencer Place, Alastair was less interested in their answer than he was to be free of them.
He found Giselle pacing in the hall when he stepped into the house. She ran to him as he handed his hat and cane to Bennings.
“How did it go?” She asked nervously as her eyes searched his face. Alastair shrugged as he frowned.
“Fine. He won’t press you to go to court or marry one of his cousins.” He said as he headed for the library. Giselle followed him.
“That’s a relief. Did something else happen? You look upset.” She asked carefully and then looked over her shoulder as Gilles and Lucien stumbled in, still laughing. Alastair scowled.
“Yes. I learned that the world truly is full of idiots and my brothers are the worst of them.”
Chapter 46
For years, Spencer Place had been like a castle in a child’s fairy tale for Giselle. Despite what Mirabelle may have imagined, working as a spy wasn’t a constant thrill or adventure. It was often long periods of waiting punctuated with brief moments of activity and occasional violence. The best part of those years had been the hours of stories Gilles would tell her of the family. Being at Winthorpe and then Spencer Place was like stepping into a fable and meeting Gilles’ family was like seeing her favorite characters come to life. Watching them laugh and tease each other made her feel like she was dreaming. The most beautiful part of the dream was the way the family accepted her. They loved her and protected her unconditionally from the moment she met each of them. Giselle felt unworthy but grateful nonetheless.
The first morning, she raced to the dining room, eager to see if everyone gathered for breakfast as Gilles had described. She wasn’t disappointed. Breakfast at Spencer Place was loud and energetic. Multiple conversations were layered and intertwined among the clattering, clinking and scraping of china, crystal and silver. Even Charlotte and Ethan were present and were constantly being passed around, at times in exchange for jam or pepper. Once, Giselle had to press herself against the wall as Gilles chased Mirabelle around the table. The Mothers did their best to maintain order but often gave in to laughter. Giselle spent most of those first breakfasts quietly observing the delightfully rowdy scene, her head bouncing around the room as she took it all in. With seven adults and two infants, Giselle had more than enough to keep her entertained.
Her attention was never away from Alastair for long though. Seeing him in the midst of the chaos of breakfast was fascinating and amusing. His voice was the lowest and the deepest and was heard less often but his eyes flickered around the room, following the various plots and conversations. Now and then he would lean into the fray to add his opinion or tease. Usually Mirabel
le, who would elbow him or lean against him affectionately in return. His eyes would often meet Giselle’s and she could feel him observing her reactions and assessing her comfort.
Breakfast quickly became Giselle’s favorite part of the day. After, the obligations of the ton and their investigation into Weering took over. Callers arrived in a steady stream that Giselle had to endure along with numerous cups of tea. One of the few bright spots was Mirabelle’s Lady Gasden. The old woman was surly and outspoken. Giselle understood Mirabelle’s affection for her.
“You, gel, are nothing but trouble. You’re exactly what that Alastair needs.” Lady Gasden declared as she examined Giselle in the sitting room. Mirabelle nodded emphatically and began to share a list of the various balls and events they planned to attend. Even to Giselle, it seemed an exhausting itinerary. She silently prayed that it wouldn’t be too much of a strain on Alastair.
For his part, Alastair barricaded himself in the library until their callers left and emerged to escort Giselle on an outing. For her, their rides, walks and the few shopping trips they attempted were the worst part of the day. It was like wading through a heavy current. People would surround them wherever they went, fawning over her and asking inane and prying questions. After the second day, the questions shifted from Giselle’s absence and her family to Alastair’s constant presence at her side.
Alastair’s refusal to answer questions with more than a “Yes.” or a “No.” or at all frustrated people endlessly. Which delighted Giselle. He simply refused to play by their rules. He rarely bowed or acknowledged a person’s rank unless it was clear that it was a person he respected, which wasn’t often. He never accepted a woman’s hand when it was offered in greeting and he ignored the few women that attempted to flirt with him.
Despite Alastair’s entertaining treatment of the ton, Giselle always felt brittle when they were finally able to return to Spencer Place. The outright stupidity and subtle aspersions against Alastair wore on her temper. It was all she could do to wait until they were safely in the house before she vented her frustrations.
What most impressed Giselle was they way Alastair carried himself in ball rooms. He prowled at her side or watched over her like a sentry, impervious to the stares and whispers. He relied on his use of vague answers when questioned about their relationship and wasn’t above abruptly steering Giselle away if someone became excessively irritating. His control definitely eclipsed hers.
She nearly gave into temptation and unleashed her fury while waltzing with Lord Walthram.
“My dear, you can’t seriously be considering Alastair Spencer.” He scoffed. She pulled her head back and glared at him.
“I’m sorry?” She seethed but he was oblivious.
“His connections are impeccable and he’s well set up but that hardly compensates for his appalling personality. The man is about as interesting as cold porridge and as personable as a wet cat.” He snorted. Giselle set him a scathing look and he became wary.
“I find myself appalled by your manners, my lord.” She said far louder than necessary and eyes swung in their direction. “If we’re going to make comparisons, I think I should point out that he is taller, stronger, more handsome and obviously smarter than you. You could do with less cologne, more bathing and your breath is horrid.” He turned grey and tripped. “Sir Alastair is also a much better dancer.” With that, she left him on the dance floor.
Alastair’s eyes were locked on Lord Walthram when she reached him.
“What did he do?” Alastair was tense as he searched her face. She linked her arms with his and turned him toward the refreshment table. Giselle smiled warmly as she looked up at him.
“He compared you to a bowl of porridge and a wet cat.” She laughed at his look of confusion.
“I don’t understand.” He said as he looked back at the dance floor. He didn't seem at all offended. Giselle shook her head.
“It’s unfathomable.” She said softly.
Giselle was also impressed with the way Alastair danced. He was confidant and graceful. She knew he held her a bit too close and his hand would occasionally wander but it made their waltzes more thrilling. He was very much the same on the dance floor as he was in the bedroom. He commanded her attention and kept her enthralled as they moved around the room. Giselle knew that the way they danced together and the fact that they often shared three waltzes caused a lot of raised eyebrows but she didn’t care. They were presenting themselves as an engaged couple and she wanted the ton to see Alastair as he was; powerful, sensual and enigmatic. She knew her name would afford her some leeway and she was enjoying herself. Secretly, she took satisfaction in the way he refused to dance with anyone but her, Mirabelle or The Mothers. Giselle was sure that it was more to do with his sensitivity but the ton didn’t know and she could see the jealousy in certain women’s eyes.
What didn’t impress Giselle was how little time they had alone. By the time they returned to Spencer Place, it was the early hours of the morning. Alastair would escort her and Maman into the hall and he would take his leave. Maman was sympathetic, she would kiss him goodnight and go upstairs, leaving them alone as they said goodnight. Alastair would pull Giselle close and kiss her urgently but briefly. When he left her, she was frustrated and restless. She would toss and turn in her bed as her body ached for his and her mind tortured her with memories.
The only consolation was that they had crossed paths with Weering a number of times. Giselle often caught him watching her. He appeared interested in her and she expected that he would seek an introduction. She had heard rumors that he was planning to remarry. Encouraging his attention might be helpful. It was worth discussing with Gilles, Lucien and Alastair. She already knew what Alastair’s reaction would be.
Chapter 47
“No. Absolutely not.” Alastair said as he shook his head. He leapt from his seat and started pacing. Giselle’s eyes flicked to Gilles’. He stared at her and she had a hard time reading his thoughts. She frowned. They used to work as if they shared the same brain. They instinctively knew what the other was thinking and planned to do. Gilles sat back and watched Alastair.
“Are you concerned for her or are you just being possessive?” He asked softly. Alastair swung to face him and stared before he crossed his arms.
“I’m being possessive. But I’m certain we can still accomplish our objective without using her as bait.” Alastair admitted. “I don’t foresee a scenario where it would gain us anything significant.” He argued. Lucien leaned forward in his seat.
“It’s rumored that he will be hosting a ball. His mother has put out that he is keen to remarry and will use the evening to interview candidates. If he is considering Giselle, she may be able to entice him to leave with her. It would be an opportunity for her to gain access to other areas of his home.” Lucien offered. Alastair dismissed the idea.
“I could just as easily persuade her to join me in an illicit encounter away from the party. If anyone happened upon us, it would appear that we were merely trying to find a quiet place for an assignation. It would be more believable and it wouldn’t potentially lead to Giselle being forced into a union with Weering if they were discovered.” Alastair looked pointedly at Giselle and she twisted her lips. He had a point. Gilles and Lucien nodded. Gilles rubbed his jaw as he stared at Alastair.
“It would still be good if Weering was focused on Giselle. He might let something slip in conversation or she might overhear something.” Gilles said as Lucien nodded.
“Not to mention, it would keep his focus off of more vulnerable women. I don’t like way his last two marriages ended.” Lucien looked at Giselle. “I find myself wishing you could have a few minutes alone with him.” His voice was hard and his expression was one of disgust. Giselle frowned as the hairs on the back of her neck stood.
“How did his last two marriages end?” She asked. Lucien’s eyes held hers.
“Both of his wives died from inexplicable, accidental injuries.” Lucien said coldly. G
iselle gasped. Lucien nodded. “Both were young heiresses.” She grinned wryly.
“I’m not exactly young.” She teased. Alastair shook his head.
“You’re not exactly a spinster either and you would appeal to his hubris. Everything he does is out of greed or narcissism.” He stared at her for a moment before he turned and strode from the room.
Later that evening, Giselle entered the drawing room before dinner and was once again assaulted by one of Alastair’s most tempting incarnations. Despite being in full dress, he was on the floor, on his back. He was engaged in physical combat and his opponent had him pinned to the ground. Alastair gasped and flailed as Ethan rested upon his chest. Giselle turned to Gilles in shock and he chuckled as he handed her a glass of wine.
“My brother believes that having Ethan on his stomach so he can practice lifting his head and using his arms is good exercise. As they both seem to enjoy themselves and I like seeing Alastair defeated by an infant, I humor him.” Gilles said with a soft grin. Giselle could only nod weakly as her eyes went back to the scene on the floor.
Alastair, the man that folded everything, abhorred being less than immaculate and shrieked like a boiled cat in the barn at Winthorpe thrashed upon the floor and screamed in false agony as Ethan pressed his open, toothless mouth against his cheek. Giselle’s eyes widened as Ethan raised his head and a string of drool fell upon Alastair’s chin and chest. Alastair roared and his hands surrounded the infant as he sat up, supporting him against his chest. Alastair raised Ethan and attacked the folds of his neck, snarling and growling as he pretended to bite him. Ethan made a delighted gurgling sound and Alastair laughed.
When he looked up, his hair was disheveled and his face was covered in a sheen of baby saliva. Giselle felt her legs shake as she dropped onto the sofa. Alastair rose to his feet and fell upon the seat next to her. He smiled as he handed Ethan to her and she panicked as she awkwardly put her arms around the tiny cherub.
Claimed By Chaos Page 27
