The Price of Love

by Vicki Hopkins

  “Bloody well yes,” Robert shouted.

  “You goddamn lucky bastard,” Geoffrey growled, snatching the sovereign out of the footman’s hand.

  Robert saw the servant’s disappointment over the disappearing coin, so he shoved his hand into his own pocket and retrieved another. Without hesitation, he gave it to him as a reward. “Well done, chap,” he said with a broad smile. “As far as I’m concerned, you deserve to keep it.”

  The footman smiled. “Thank you, your lordship.”

  “If you weren’t my cousin, I’d strangle you right now.” Geoffrey grabbed the remaining port in his glass and brought it to his lips gulping down his disappointment.

  “I’m sure you’ll have your chance to impress the lady in Paris,” Robert reminded him. “I thought that was kind of her allowing you to join us and stay under the same roof.” He patted Geoffrey on the back. “You’ll get over it.”

  Robert headed for the door. “I’m off to see whether Lady von Lamberg would like to return home. You won’t mind me borrowing the motorcar, will you?”

  For once, lady luck had smiled on him, or perhaps it was Saint George. Whatever the reason for the win, he needed the time alone with his sister.

  Chapter 17

  Winner Take All

  Robert strode into the sitting room like a champion. Everyone disappeared, and he remained the victor. He entered the doorway and interrupted the chatter of three women.

  “Ladies, I am all that is left from the household of males,” he announced. “Might I have the honor of driving Lady von Lamberg to the Whitefields?”

  Jolene turned and looked at him in relief from her obvious boredom. He would be bored, too, with the discussions that women entertained. Whatever they spoke about during the past hour, he knew it couldn’t have been as lively as the one in the dining room.

  “Where is everyone?” his aunt asked.

  “Too many cigars and too much brandy, I’m afraid. Father has gone to bed. Uncle went right after him, and Geoffrey—well, let’s just say Geoffrey is nursing his loss.”

  Marguerite rose to her feet. “I don’t understand.”

  His eyes shifted to his mother, who appeared anxious and ready to retire. “Mother, you better take care of father. Go easy on him, because I think he had too much to drink.”

  She frowned.

  “Lady von Lamberg,” he said, walking toward her and offering his arm. “May I have the honor of returning you home?”

  “Well, home is in Austria,” she said teasing him. She stood up and took his arm. “I’ll go as far as the Whitefields this evening and Paris very soon.”

  She turned to Suzette and Marguerite. “Lady Chambers, thank you for dinner this evening. I thoroughly enjoyed myself.” She looked at the duchess and spoke. “We shall be spending many more hours together in the next week or two. As soon as I find a suitable rental, I’ll notify you about travel arrangements.”

  “I look forward to it,” she replied.

  After their final farewells, Robert escorted his sister to the motorcar and opened the door like a gentleman. “I talked them into letting me drive you home.”

  “You do know how to drive, don’t you?” Jolene looked at him a bit worried.

  “Well, I do ride a horse much better than driving a motorcar. However, I have been thinking it would be quite the rush to race one of these machines rather than my horse.”

  “You’re teasing me,” she complained, glaring at him in fear. “Surely, the driver can take me back to the Whitefields. Where is he?”

  “Don’t worry, I promise to make sure that you safely arrive at your destination,” he consoled. Apparently, she had not come to a place of complete trust wounding his delicate ego.

  After starting the engine, Robert pulled out into the street. The avenues were practically empty of traffic. Thankfully, he would not have to dodge carriages and horses. After reaching a reasonable thirty miles per hour, he started a conversation.

  “Well, I must say you certainly surprised me this evening with the invitation of my whole family to Paris. What clever thing are you planning, Sister?”

  “What I do have planned will not work if we discover Philippe is dead.”

  Robert could not contain himself. “I have some news for you,” he said, grinning broadly and trying to keep his eyes on the road.

  “What news?” Jolene turned her head and looked at him.

  He wanted to see the expression on her face. It would be far too precious to miss. “Maybe I should pull over so we can talk about this.”

  “Robert,” she protested with a scowl. Jolene poked his leg with her finger. “Don’t torture me.”

  “Just give me a few minutes,” he replied, continuing to drive. Finally, after sensing his sister’s frustration, he slowed down and stopped alongside the road.

  “Look, we’re almost at the Whitefields,” he announced.

  Robert placed the car in a neutral gear. Jolene furrowed her brow. Truth be told, he enjoyed being a tease to his newfound sibling.

  “We had a riveting conversation around the dining table over cigars and liquor. My father, thank the Lord above, had one too many. When he drinks, he loosens his tongue and wallows about the past.” Robert shifted his body to the side and leaned against the door.

  “What did he say?”

  Jolene looked as if she were about to poke him again. A spirit of nostalgia whirled around him as he looked at her eager face. She had grown into a beautiful woman he admired and experienced the new emotion of brotherly love. He reached over, grabbed her hand, and held it tight.

  “Your father is alive,” Jolene. “My father has kept track of him through the years.”

  “He is?” She glowed with joy even in the dark.

  “Not only alive, love, but my father knows where to get in touch with him.” Her mouth gaped open but nothing came out. Finally, after crushing his hand, she spoke.

  “Oh, my God, he’s alive.”

  “Yes, he is. My father even encouraged me to pay him a visit.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m not sure, but I have my suspicions it’s easing his conscience. He drank a little too much this evening and began wallowing in his brandy.” Jolene’s eyes watered. “You now officially have a father and mother that are alive.”

  “I can’t believe it.” Her voice trembled.

  “Have you read much further in the diary? What else did the deceased lady’s maid have to say?”

  “I have not finished it yet, I’m afraid. I pick it up and read her entries. Most of the time they upset me.” She paused and sucked in an anxious breath. “Robert, I feel so many emotions about everyone. For some reason, I’m taking sides in this whole situation that occurred eighteen years ago. I feel miserable after reading what happened to Jacquelyn when she was married to your father. It bothers me that my emotions are indifferent toward our mother.”

  “And my father?” Robert looked at her knowing she would not reply with anything glowing about his character.

  “Well, it is obvious that he deeply loves our mother. Nonetheless, I am angry with him, too, because he destroyed my parents’ marriage.”

  Robert grew pensive remembering his uncle’s admonishment. “My uncle made a profound statement this evening,” he said. “The decisions you make as youths will follow you the remainder of your life.”

  “I suppose that is true,” Jolene replied. “Hopefully, we’ll learn what not to do by their examples.”

  “You think?” Robert grinned. “But with a rascal like me you never know.”

  Jolene tilted her head and smirked at his confession. A part of him jested, but he knew that his own rebellious streak certainly could lead to unwise choices in his life. Observing the double-edge sword of his father’s existence, he realized that he didn’t want to carry one throughout adulthood.

  One of Jolene’s earlier statements came to mind. “What stories in the diary infuriated you, might I ask?” Jolene paused as if she hesitated to tel
l him. “Nothing will shock me,” he assured.

  She inhaled a deep breath. “Well, Jacquelyn traveled to Paris looking for your father. When she arrived at their townhome, she caught them together. Dorcas witnessed the incident herself. They were on the couch...” She stopped and cringed in embarrassment.

  “Having intercourse?” Robert wanted to say something a bit gruffer, but for Jolene’s sake, he used a more general term. The description appeared to fluster Jolene. In the shadows, he noticed a blush burst upon her cheeks. It seemed his sister had prudish tendencies.

  “Close to it,” she giggled. “Let’s just say one hand was up her dress and the other on her exposed breast.”

  Robert squirmed in his seat over the thought of it. “God, it must have been something else to watch those two twenty years ago,” he said with a smirk on his face. “My stoic father was a rogue.” He couldn’t help picturing the entire scene in his mind. Jolene drew his attention away from speculating about their sexual exploits.

  “Where is father?”

  Robert halted his vision of the scandalous encounter. “We didn’t get that far in the discussion. I am sure when we arrive in Paris, he will give me the address.”

  Jolene looked disappointed.

  “A lot of things came out tonight, even stories I didn’t know about,” Robert added.

  “Like what?”

  He pondered if he should tell her about how his father had acted with such duplicity in regards to Philippe. Would her anger toward him increase knowing how he had sent Philippe away to weasel his way back into his mother’s life?

  “I’m not sure if we should discuss it here,” he said, putting her off. “You’ve had enough emotion for one night. Let me take you home.”

  “True,” she admitted, yawning. “I am tired. There will be more time to talk in the weeks ahead.”

  After putting the car back in gear, he proceeded a few blocks until they reached the Whitefields. Jolene held onto his arm as he escorted her to the door. Branson answered.

  She leaned forward and whispered in his ear. “I’m so glad you’re my brother.”

  Robert felt her lips touch his cheek with a quick kiss before she entered. Jolene departed, and Branson shut the door in his face.

  “Why in the hell did I ever push over the bassinet?” He laughed all the way to the car.

  Jolene was right about one thing, though. They did have weeks ahead. Surprisingly he looked forward to seeing Philippe again. The man deserved the homecoming of his lost daughter.

  * * * *

  Robert returned to his uncle’s house intent on climbing into bed. As he passed the parlor, he glanced inside and found Geoffrey sprawled in the chair that Jolene had been sitting in. Curious as to what he was up to, Robert walked in and stood in front of him.

  “What are you doing?” Geoffrey’s bloodshot eyes indicated to Robert that his cousin had become inebriated during his absence.

  “Smelling the lingering scent of her perfume.”

  What a bloody fool, Robert thought to himself.

  “You enjoy your ride home?” Geoffrey asked, noticeably peeved.

  “Yes,” Robert replied in a clipped voice.

  “You kiss her?”

  “I told you that there’s nothing between us, Geoffrey. Get the hell over it.”

  He narrowed his eyes in disbelief. “Something is going on between the two of you,” he said, rising to his feet in a wobble. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re a sneaky son-of-a-bitch like your father.”

  “You’re drunk,” Robert said. “And frustrated she’s not as receptive of your advances as you hoped.”

  “I’d like to make her my wife,” he slurred. “We could use the money.”

  “You would marry her for money and probably fuck whores on the side. She deserves far better than the likes of you.” Robert’s nostrils flared eyeing him up and down.

  Geoffrey licked his lips and a mischievous glint sparkled in his glassy eyes. “Well, I’m going to fuck a whore when I get to Paris, whether you like it or not.” He pushed Robert on his chest with his index finger. “You wait and see.”

  “You do, and I’ll tell her what an ass you truly are. Then she’ll never reciprocate your advances, you reprobate.”

  “Bastard,” he spit back in Robert’s face. “You are just a fucking bastard, born of a mistress whore, and you have the gall to lecture me?”

  Robert balled his fists. He wanted to punch him in his ruddy face. It wasn’t the first time nor would it be the last his cousin would throw the word at him like dirt. The drunken idiot wasn’t worth the pain of bruised knuckles, so he relaxed his hand and let it go.

  “Go sleep it off, Cousin,” he growled at him. Robert turned and retreated to his room.

  “So help me,” he complained aloud, stomping down the hall to his room. “One of these days, I am going to punch that ass in the mouth.”

  Chapter 18

  The City of Light and Love

  It took a few weeks of arrangements, but Jolene found a residence in Paris to rent that would accommodate everyone’s needs. It contained eight bedrooms, four on the main floor, four on the second, and five bath chambers. The ground floor had an elegant reception area and a veranda that led to the garden. For male entertainment, it included a study, library, and wine cellar. When she discovered it also had a large garage, she arranged for a motorcar rental to be delivered upon their arrival and a professional driver to transport them about the city.

  She funded everyone’s transportation to France, though the duke balked in pride. Robert talked him into graciously accepting the gift rather than being so high and mighty. It pleased her to witness the influence her brother had been able to wield on her behalf.

  Geoffrey did not travel with their entourage. He made the excuse that he would follow in a few days because of unfinished business in London, due to his father’s departure to the West Indies. Robert expressed his delight over the delay. Jolene thought little of it.

  When they arrived at the townhome with their piles of luggage, the staff scurried about greeting the new arrivals. Jolene, based on the floor plan she received from the property administrator, had assigned the rooms for each guest ahead of time.

  A butler by the name of Pierre welcomed them at the door, along with the head housekeeper and maids. After introductions concluded, the head housekeeper, Madame Dubois, invited everyone for refreshments in the sitting room.

  Jolene handed the butler her list of accommodations and instructions where each traveler’s bags should be taken. She had placed the duke and duchess in a suite on the second floor, where she would also occupy a room. Robert and Geoffrey would take the lower bedroom suites.

  Maria had already scurried off with the rest of the staff to take her quarters on the lower level. Everything unfolded perfectly according to Jolene’s plan. A rush of excitement tingled through her body over what lay ahead.

  She entered the sitting room, where Robert and his parents already enjoyed a welcoming cup of tea. “I must say it’s a nice townhome, don’t you agree?” Jolene looked around at the luxurious furnishings. “It is owned by a Viscount in Aquitaine. He uses the residence sparingly and leases it when not in Paris.”

  Robert glanced at the French décor scowling at the ostentatious furnishings. “Yes, it is comfortable, but there is no contemporary furniture. It’s very...shall we say, Louis XVI.”

  “Needless to say,” his mother intervened, “I like it.”

  “I’m not getting into this debate,” the duke countered with a chuckle. His playful gaze shifted to his wife who ignored his comment.

  The glow upon her mother’s face lit up the room. Obviously, returning to French soil had infused her with new life. Jolene wondered what memories her mother entertained, reminded once again how little she knew about her. She had no knowledge of her parentage or childhood. So many pieces of the puzzle remained unsolved. Perhaps in one of them, she would find an ounce of motherly affection that still elu
ded her heart.

  Purposely, she pulled her eyes away from her mother and turned to the duke. “You and the duchess had a townhome in Paris at one time, too, so I’ve been told,” she inquired. “It is a shame that you sold it. Do you miss the property?”

  Her question dulled the festive atmosphere in the room as if she turned out a light. His Grace’s demeanor quickly altered, and her mother’s smile faded. After a quick glance at his wife, he answered.

  “I sold it for financial reasons a few years after we wed. We decided not to return to Paris often, so there was no need to keep an empty home any longer.”

  The scene of Suzette and the duke sprawled across the couch partially naked taunted Jolene. Each time she started to see them in a favorable light, another piece of information about their history would sully it.

  Pierre, the butler, announced their quarters were ready. “The trunks and luggage have been delivered to the rooms as you requested, Lady von Lamberg. Is there anything else that you require?”

  “Would you kindly show Lord Holland his quarters on the first floor, and I shall escort the duke and duchess upstairs to their suites.”

  Everyone rose to their feet. “What time is dinner served?” Jolene inquired.

  “Seven o’clock in the dining room down the hall to your right.”

  She turned toward Robert. “We will see you again at dinner. Feel free to wander through the study, library, and cellars. You may find something interesting,” she teased him.

  The impressive central staircase to the second floor loomed before her in white marble. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to your rooms.” As they reached the top and walked down a long corridor, she stopped at the first French doors to her right. “This is your suite. I hope you will be comfortable here. I am across the hall.”