by Diane Gaston
He had no choice but to play the role he’d created the day he’d left her. ‘You may think whatever you like about my activities,’ he said sharply. ‘I wanted to leave, to be away. I may desire to leave again in the future.’
Her voice dropped. ‘You wanted to leave me, you are saying.’
He made himself glare at her. ‘I am saying I will come and go at my pleasure. I suggest you accustom yourself to that habit of mine.’
She returned his gaze. ‘I’ve had several weeks to accustom myself.’
He wanted to ask her how it had been for her, but she would never believe he cared about such things. ‘Like it or not, we are man and wife and we are together in Brussels. We must act like man and wife while we are here.’
She recoiled. ‘Do not expect me to perform my wifely duties. I performed them once and you left me.’
He understood. He truly understood. It must have been excruciating to open herself to him so intimately, only to be abandoned. But he could not say so.
Instead he said, ‘We will address that issue at a later date. As it is, I am housed in a different hotel. I will not require you to move from here.’
‘You will not require me!’ she cried.
He lifted a hand to silence her. ‘Suffice to say we will make the appearance of marital harmony, if for no other reason than it will cause talk if we do not and it will upset my parents and Amelie.’
‘I am used to talk.’ Her chin trembled. ‘I have endured much talk already.’
That was like a sabre thrust. ‘Well, then, let us put a stop to it.’
She’d probably think he wanted to be rid of her if he sent her and his family away from Brussels as soon as possible. His father would never turn around and leave the day after arriving, in any event.
He took a breath. ‘There is to be a ball in two days’ time. We will attend together. I will see that you and Amelie receive invitations. My parents, too, if I can manage it. And Captain Fowler.’
The Duke of Richmond and his secretary were Greybury’s men. Marc could manage the invitations.
‘And Miss Caldwell and her father?’ she asked scornfully.
‘I do not include them.’ Why would he? He tried to get her to look at him. ‘My encountering them in Brussels was as unexpected as encountering you, Tess.’
‘Possibly more welcome though,’ she said.
He did not want anyone he cared about to be in Brussels now.
‘You will come to the ball with me,’ he commanded. ‘It will be the place to be seen.’
Once they were seen together at the Duchess of Richmond’s ball, the gossip should abate. He could at least give that to her.
Chapter Fourteen
Dinner was early in Brussels. Not enough time for Tess to collect herself. Oh, she had time to dress, but not enough time to master the emotions spinning around inside her.
All because of encountering her husband after all these weeks.
The Caldwells were added to the dinner party, much to Tess’s dismay, as was Captain Fowler.
They supped at the Café de l’Amitié. Café of Friendship. Was that not a farce?
Tess sat at Marc’s side and was forced to watch the family and the Caldwells delight in his presence.
How odd they all were, to act as if Marc had merely been on a trip to Switzerland. He had deserted a new wife, not that any of them seemed to take him to task for that.
Or perhaps they were simply on good behaviour. Lord and Lady Northdon were always on good behavior when Captain Fowler was present. They were extremely eager that Captain Fowler think well of them, even to the point of refraining from their constant bickering. They doted on Captain Fowler. If this man did not make Amelie an offer, Amelie would not be the only one crushed.
At least the conversation at dinner did not require Tess’s participation beyond the occasional expression of interest or nodding of the head. While Tess seethed inside, though, Miss Caldwell was the epitome of serenity. It did no credit to Tess to resent Miss Caldwell for it.
After dinner they all walked back to the hotel on the Rue Royale, four couples, one behind the other. Lord and Lady Northdon led the way followed by Mr Caldwell and his daughter. Amelie and Captain Fowler trailed last and Marc and Tess were caught in the middle.
Amelie called to her parents, ‘Maman, Papa, it is still so fine a day. May I take a turn in the park with the captain?’
‘An excellent idea!’ Lord Northdon stopped for a moment, so the whole parade stopped. ‘In fact, let us all walk in the park.’ He turned to Lady Northdon. ‘Would you like to see the park, my dear?’
Amelie looked crestfallen.
Her father chuckled. ‘Do not fear, Daughter. We will not stay in your pocket.’
But they certainly could keep an eye on her.
‘Marc!’ his father bellowed, though they were not at a distance. ‘You will come with us.’
Tess saw her chance. ‘Yes, do, Marc. Take a promenade through the park with your parents and the Caldwells. I can manage to walk the few steps to the hotel alone.’
Marc did not respond to Tess, but to his father. ‘Thank you, Papa. I will stay with Tess.’
Lord Northdon’s brows rose, as if he could not believe Marc would pick Tess over a few minutes with his parents and his good friends. ‘If you wish it,’ he said tersely.
‘Let them go, John. They do not wish to be with us right now.’ Lady Northdon smiled knowingly, as if she thought Marc and Tess were eager to be private together. She turned to Marc. ‘Adieu, mon fils.’
While Marc said goodnight to the others, Tess started walking to the hotel. Marc caught up to her.
‘You should have stayed with your parents and your friends,’ she said to him through gritted teeth.
‘I would not leave you,’ he replied.
She laughed. Surely he caught the irony of that statement.
She did not look at him to see, though. Looking at him was too painful. It reminded her of how he had looked in their marriage bed, how he had looked upon her with his intense blue eyes, how she’d been filled with hope and happiness.
‘I cannot stay, however,’ he added. ‘I have somewhere else I must go.’
She shrugged as if she did not care where he went.
He held open the grand door of the Hotel de Flandre for her. She entered the lobby and strode determinedly towards the stairway. He seemed to have no difficulty keeping pace with her.
She stopped. ‘I am going to my room and I do not need your escort. Go on to your next...entertainment.’
He gave her a firm look. ‘I will walk you to your door.’
She turned to face him. ‘I do not want this attention from you, Marc. Play the devoted husband when your family is around or other people who might matter to you, but there is no need to do so when no one of consequence is looking.’
‘I can still be a gentleman,’ he said.
‘A gentleman!’ She swung away from him and quickened her pace.
‘Tess!’ she heard a man call. ‘Tess!’
A red-coated soldier hurried towards her.
‘Edmund?’ Was it truly her brother? ‘Edmund!’
She rushed towards him and he caught her in a hug.
Tears immediately sprang to her eyes. Her armour was no match for seeing Edmund.
‘Edmund,’ she repeated. ‘I wanted so badly to see you!’ Her brother who loved her was here!
‘What are you doing in Brussels, Tess?’ He sounded unhappy to see her.
She stepped back.
A furrow of worry creased his brow. ‘Are you in a financial fix?’
‘Not at all,’ Marc answered for her. He had followed her. ‘Allow me to present myself. I am Marc Glenville, Tess’s husband.’
‘You are the husband?’ Obviously Tess’s letter had reached Edmund—the one that told him she was married; she’d not followed with one that said she’d also been abandoned. ‘I am Edmund Summerfield, sir, Tess’s brother.’
‘Summerfi
eld.’ Marc extended his hand and Edmund shook it.
‘My father acknowledged Edmund and gave him his name,’ Tess explained.
Marc glanced at her. ‘I was not questioning his name, Tess.’
‘Indeed.’ Edmund shifted uncomfortably before giving Marc a puzzled look. ‘Why are you in Brussels, then, if not to escape debt? Do you have an official function?’
It was a blunt question, Tess thought.
‘No debt. No official function.’ Marc answered without apparent offence. ‘I have been here for several days, but Tess and my family arrived today.’
Why did Marc not leave? It felt to Tess as if her brother was all she had left. She did not want to share his company with Marc.
‘Never mind why we are here,’ she said. ‘Tell me, are you well? Do you need anything? Where are you staying?’
He took both her hands in his. ‘I am very well. I need nothing. And—and I particularly wanted to tell you where I am staying.’
She hoped it was nearby so she could see him often. Perhaps he would be free from duties, like the officers in the park. Perhaps she could spend a day with him.
His expression turned serious. ‘I am staying with your mother.’
Did she hear him correctly? ‘My mother!’
‘Yes,’ he responded. ‘I am staying with her and Count von Osten. They have a large house on Rue Sainte Anne.’
Count von Osten was the man her mother had eloped with.
‘My mother and Count von Osten.’
Edmund released her. ‘I shocked you, Tess. I am sorry.’
‘I do not understand.’ She shook her head. ‘You—and my mother?’
He shrugged. ‘I discovered she was in Brussels a long time ago. I’ve been corresponding with her for years.’
‘For years?’ Tess’s voice rose. ‘You’ve written to her? About us?’ About Lorene and Genna and herself?
‘Of course,’ he admitted. ‘But mostly about me.’
‘You never told us!’ It felt like a betrayal.
Her mother had no right to know anything about her! Or about Lorene and Genna. How could he write to her about them? Thank goodness they’d never told Edmund about their father’s financial ruin or about him stealing their dowries to purchase Edmund’s commission. Thank goodness she kept the mess of her own life secret.
‘Why did you find her? Why write to her? Live with her? She is not your mother!’ She trembled.
A strong, comforting arm wrapped around her shoulders.
Marc.
Edmund faced her. ‘Your mother was always kind to me.’
‘She hardly saw any of us!’
‘Maybe so,’ Edmund responded. ‘But she always treated me well. She treated me as if I were of value and when I was a boy, I greatly needed that.’
Her mother had been charming, that was true, but she could not have valued any of them. She left them, after all.
Edmund’s expression turned earnest. ‘She wants to see you, Tess.’
‘She knows I am here?’ Tess did not want her mother to know anything of her.
‘She was with me when Upton told me you were here,’ he explained. ‘Will you call upon her, Tess? She would like you to.’
‘Call upon her!’ Never.
‘She even invites you to stay.’ He turned to Marc. ‘You, too, sir.’
‘Tess is here with my parents and sister,’ Marc explained.
‘I am certain they would be welcomed, too,’ Edmund said. ‘It is a very big house.’
‘No!’ Tess cried.
She pulled away.
‘Perhaps we should bid you goodnight, Lieutenant,’ Marc said. ‘Tess is weary from travelling.’
Edmund nodded. ‘May I call upon you again, Tess?’
He was still her brother, after all. Even if she could no longer trust him. ‘Of course you may call upon me.’ She walked back to give him a quick hug. ‘But I do not wish to hear more about my mother.’
‘I will call again tomorrow.’ He turned to Marc. ‘Goodbye, sir. I hope to see more of you.’
Marc again offered his hand to shake. ‘I do, as well.’
Tess hugged Edmund once more before Marc led her up the stairs and out of sight of the lobby.
She pulled away then, and turned to face him. ‘How dare he! Did you hear him? He acted as if I should not mind that she abandoned us!’ She started down the hallway, talking to the walls now. ‘Why is it that everyone who abandons me thinks it perfectly acceptable to do so? I am expected to greet them as if they’d merely been gone an hour. Am I supposed to feel nothing?’
That day when she’d been nine, her mother came flying into the nursery, waking up her, Lorene and Genna and kissing them and saying she would see them later. Since that day she’d not sent one letter, not one message, to them. The only news they heard of her after that was through their father when he ranted about how she’d ruined his life.
‘She asks to see me as if it did not matter.’ Tess fought angry tears.
When they reached her door, she pulled the key from her reticule. Marc took it from her and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.
His warmth, the solidness of his body, his scent, was comfort itself, as if he were pouring some of his strength into her. He simply held her, giving and demanding nothing. She wanted to stay in his arms forever.
But this was Marc. He’d abandoned her, too.
She pushed him away.
‘Do not touch me,’ she snapped.
He merely bowed and backed away. She hurried into the room, but stopped and opened the door a crack to watch him walk down the hall, away from her and to wherever it was so important he go.
* * *
Marc descended the stairway with his own set of churned-up emotions. He had indeed abandoned her, just as her mother had done.
Could he ever make it up to her? Or had their marriage been doomed from the start?
When he reached the lobby, her brother still stood there and looked surprised to see him.
‘I am off on an errand,’ Marc explained, walking towards the door.
Edmund walked with him. ‘Is Tess all right?’
Marc met his eye briefly. ‘She has had a very difficult day.’
Marc had made it difficult.
Edmund looked regretful. ‘Please convey my apologies to her. I should not have told her about her mother so abruptly.’
‘It is done now.’ What else could Marc say?
A footman opened the door.
‘I do not think Tess will call upon her mother,’ Marc told Edmund as he walked outside.
‘She should do so.’ Edmund shook his head. ‘I knew this news would be a surprise to her. I thought she might be happy about it, though. As children we sometimes talked about her mother leaving. She and my sisters always said Lady Summerfield had done the right thing.’
‘Sometimes you can still hurt someone even if you do the right thing.’ How well Marc knew this.
Marc liked this brother of Tess’s. Edmund was loyal to Tess and caring, even if he had brought Tess unwelcome news. Marc even liked Edmund’s loyalty to Lady Summerfield. Edmund had apparently forgiven her for abandoning her family.
Would Tess ever forgive him?
They parted ways shortly after and Marc walked the half-mile to Le Double Aigle at the old Halle aux Blés. It was an inn of an inferior type where he could be somewhat unobtrusive. It was also packed with billeted soldiers. Marc climbed the stairs to his room and changed into the clothes of an ordinary Belgian.
He took care to leave the inn again without anyone noticing and made his way to a part of town where no Englishmen thought to visit. There he entered a public house, one he’d been visiting frequently. He took a seat and ordered the beer this country brewed so well. Like previous nights, he settled down to listen to the conversations of those around him. He’d stay until late at night, listening to men’s tongues loosened with drink.
He suspected, though, that his thoughts would turn to Te
ss, even more often than they’d done before while on his travels. With any luck, he would not miss some useful information that might come his way from the many Belgians who would welcome Napoleon’s return.
* * *
The next morning Marc woke early, his head aching more from lack of sleep than the beer he’d consumed. He’d promised his father he would breakfast with the family and he did not want to disappoint them. He forced himself out of bed and dressed quickly. Soon he was out in the cool morning air that finally revived him. He walked briskly to the Hotel de Flandre.
Would Tess wake so early? he wondered. Would she breakfast with the family? Would he have any time alone with her?
He would wager any amount of money that she’d not let on to his parents or Amelie or even her maid Nancy that her mother was in Brussels. He hoped she’d regained her composure.
He’d not wanted to leave her last night, but he had his duty to perform.
And she did not want him.
His night had been productive, at least. He’d wound up befriending a couple of Bonapartists and they wanted him to meet someone this afternoon. Apparently a group of men was planning to help Napoleon gain back Belgium. Marc would shout Vive l’Empereur if it would help them accept him as one of them and tell him what they knew.
He entered the hotel and asked the steward to have him announced to his father. Instead of the steward returning with permission to call upon his father, his father appeared in person.
‘Your mother is not yet awake,’ his father said by way of greeting. ‘Let us take a turn in the park.’
They walked the short distance to the Parc de Bruxelles. Even at this early hour they had plenty of company, soldiers in uniform, some arm in arm with willing women who’d undoubtedly warmed their beds the night before.
His father was silent a long time before speaking. ‘I would be remiss if I did not address what you have done, my son.’
A lecture. Marc supposed he deserved it, at least from his father’s viewpoint.
‘You know I am not at all happy about this marriage of yours. It caused plenty of talk in town. The gossips made much of you and she being caught in flagrante.’ He made a disparaging sound. ‘In flagrante.’
