The Rake's Proposition

by Bess Greenfield

  “What a lovely surprise to see you here. Forgive me if I fail to recall your name. You have so many.”

  The arrogance was unmistakable, and she shrank in recognition of the man who’d accosted her on the ship. His hair was shorter and his square chin less defined due to bloat, but his inanimate eyes, high-bridged nose, and full lips were just the same. So was the subtle scent of gin. “Mr. Treadway.”

  “How on earth did you manage to get an invitation here? Or perhaps I needn’t ask. Are you still with Barnett somehow? I assumed you’d parted ways when I saw you on stage at The Crystal. What a delightful discovery that was. Of course, I could see what sort of female you were the second I laid eyes upon you, but you exceeded my expectations.”

  Her heart thudded. She was completely unprepared for this possibility. This world of Mrs. Horton’s seemed so vastly distant from the one she’d been immersed in until recently. Obviously, she’d been deluding herself. People ventured anywhere they pleased, regardless of station. “You obviously have me mistaken for someone else.”

  He smirked. “No mistake. I’m one of your most loyal fans. I don’t blame you for denying it. Who’d wish to be associated with that grizzly mess?”

  The words struck such an ominous chord she almost hesitated to ask, “What mess?”

  Mr. Treadway’s green eyes gleamed with delight. It was the first time she’d ever seen any emotion reflected there. “Didn’t you hear? It’s been in all the papers for days. The owner was shot dead by his own wife after she caught him with one of the other singers. Crime of passion. Three bullets. In the face. Funny, I imagined you were the other woman. I should have known you’d be too smart for that.”

  Jonas Fowler was dead. The scene he described filled her with both horror and, though she wasn’t proud of it, relief. “What happened to the other woman?”

  He shrugged. “Who cares? There was no mention of her demise so one presumes she survived. I suppose she’ll testify at the trial. The wife will hang for certain, which is the least she deserves. The whole affair was damned inconvenient for me. I was looking forward to our private meeting, but no one wants to be seen in any of Fowler’s clubs now.”

  So Mr. Treadway was the admirer Fowler intended for her to meet. Her stomach roiled.

  “I must say I’m impressed by how well you continue to adapt to whatever environment you’re in. To look at you, no one would know what you do for a living.” He touched her face, and she jerked away in disgust.

  He smirked. “I know how desperate your situation must be to drive you to the stage. When will you realize I could be a great friend to you? I’m a lot richer than Barnett… Would you care to see my yacht? I could take you on an excursion up the bay.”

  “I’d sooner take a ride on the back of an alligator.” She looked toward the tennis court, trying to spot Leo among many similarly attired gentlemen.

  “You might wish to reconsider. Have you no concept of the instability of your position? You carry off your guise of the respectable and innocent lady with remarkable ease, but I could destroy that in a matter of seconds with just a few whispered words.”

  Would telling him of her engagement make him go away or make the situation worse? “Whisper all you like. Why should anyone take the allegations of a drunk and a cad seriously?” This was entirely bravado. She knew whatever this socially prominent “gentleman” said would likely lead to her social ruin, but there was nothing to be done for it. She couldn’t undo the steps she’d taken. Nor did she truly regret exposing herself to censure. Helping Alex was more important than guarding her reputation.

  She weaved her way along the narrow gravel pathways leading to the lawn. She tried to tell herself she wasn’t yet a part of New York society so she might never miss being excluded from it, but she knew that wasn’t true. She’d had such hopes of belonging here.

  The sight of Leo having an intense conversation with a beautiful woman stopped her cold. Even from this distance, Claudine could see the lady was breathtaking, perfect in every way. A black belted white lace dress emphasized her impossibly tiny waist. A small tilted hat set off her expertly coifed auburn hair. Her full, red mouth stood out from her glowing porcelain complexion.

  “Seems he’s found your replacement already,” Mr. Treadway sneered as he came up beside her. “I tried to warn you about his habits.”

  Leo did indeed look fascinated by whatever the woman was saying to him while her gloved hand casually swept along his upper arm. Claudine felt miffed but not jealous. The passion they’d shared last night remained fresh in her mind. She had no doubt of Leo’s devotion. Their love was unassailable.

  “He should thank me for introducing them in the first place.”

  Those last few words gave Claudine an eerie sensation. “When was that?”

  “When we were in college together. Helen is my step-mother.”

  Her blood turned cold at the sound of that name. Helen, of the illustrated sex book. Helen, the false accuser. Leo should despise her, but he didn’t appear to dislike her at all.

  “Would you believe she’s only a few years older than me?”

  “No,” she muttered, completely distracted. “She looks far younger.”

  “My father married her when she was seventeen after she took first prize in one of his beauty contests.”

  “A beauty contest for a tool and shovel company?”

  “Ludicrous, isn’t it? But it turned out well for him, wouldn’t you say? Of course, she had nothing but her looks to recommend her. Her father worked in the steel mills. She doesn’t like people to know.” There was another twisted smile, a flash of big white teeth. “So you see they have much in common, being both of low origins… My word, I hope she’s not thinking of making him her second husband. That wouldn’t do at all.”

  * * *

  Leo had always assumed he would feel rage toward Helen if he ever met with her again so it surprised him that all he felt was distaste.

  “And to think I almost didn’t come today,” she purred in that low, seductive voice he’d once found so arousing. Now her tone sickened him. “It must be fate that brought us together again when I’ve hoped and prayed for this chance to explain. You must know I never meant to hurt you. I had no choice. Tell me you understand.”

  She stood so close he could see a sort of desperation in her wide set blue-gray eyes as well as the faint lines and puffiness that now framed them. “I do,” he said. She’d sacrificed him to save herself. He’d always known that.

  “And you forgive me?’

  He searched her face, seeking some trace of remorse, some awareness that her lie had derailed his life, but he found nothing of the sort. Even now she couldn’t even bring herself to apologize for slandering him, only excuses. She couldn’t see the situation from any perspective but her own because beneath her striking exterior, she had no depth, no compassion, no soul.

  He thought of the woman he would marry, the exact opposite of the selfish creature before him, and realized such a circumstance might never have come about if not for Helen’s treachery. He would never have pursued a career in entertainment if other doors hadn’t been closed to him. Nor would he have been inspired to offer employment to a young Parisian woman with a heartbreaking voice. With no intention of doing so, Helen had set him on a path that led to Claudine. A sense of his good fortune, of utter fulfillment, suffused him. “I do. I forgive you.”

  “Oh, my dear sweet Leonardo. You cannot know how much I’ve missed you.” He truly couldn’t, but he could well imagine how many other young men she’d seduced over the years. “Come to me tonight. At our cottage. You know the way. I’ve kept it just the same for all of these years.”

  Her audacity threatened to destroy his high-minded outlook. His jaw muscles tensed, but he mastered his outrage as he touched her cheek and brushed back a stray glossy lock of hair. Vanity and triumph sparked in her eyes, just as they had in the past when he was too callow to understand what drove her. He spoke tenderly into her ear. �
��Yes. Wait for me there.”

  How many hours would it take for her to realize he wasn’t coming? He wondered if his failure to appear would finally trigger some badly needed self-assessment. He doubted it. One night of disappointment wasn’t really a commensurate punishment for what she’d done to him, but he was too full of light and hope and happiness to concern himself with the emptiness of vengeance. He had everything a man could want. He strode away, eager to find the woman who had given it to him and take her home.

  Epilogue

  The tablecloth fluttered in the breeze while the setting sun streaked the bay in swaths of pink and orange. The evening was a little windy for dining al fresco, but the Valencourt family and their closest friends refused to let weather interfere with celebrating the occasion to the fullest extent.

  Dressed in lace-trimmed mauve, Mrs. Horton whispered something to Alex, who rose to give a toast. Three weeks after his surgery, his hand was still bandaged and immobilized to allow the bones more time to heal, but there had been no infection, and Dr. Dixon remained cautiously optimistic about his prognosis. “Here’s to my daring and brave cousin Claudine and my lifelong friend Leonardo,” he shouted to be heard above the crashing waves. “May your marriage be less complicated than your courtship!”

  Papa, looking starkly elegant in his customary black suit, raised his glass and aimed a pointed look at his prospective son-in-law. “I second that.”

  Claudine blushed, uncertain as to how much her parents guessed about her relationship with Leonardo. Madame Barnett had spoken to them upon their arrival, and all was quickly forgiven by Maman, who took a philosophical and romantic view of their roundabout route to marriage. Papa, however, seemed to be taking a more cautious approach toward the man who’d persuaded his daughter to abandon her family and homeland.

  Claudine thought it a tad hypocritical of him. One would think her parents had had a proper courtship by the way he acted, but she knew that was far from the case.

  She still couldn’t bring herself to tell her parents the real reason why she’d left home and probably never would. There was nothing to be gained from the disclosure. She was no longer haunted by that night with Philippe. Leo’s understanding and her own journey of self-discovery had healed her. Her parents would only be hurt by the knowledge.

  As for the baron’s punishment, Claudine considered him to be a curse to himself. An abusive man would never know the joy of true love because he was not worth loving. At least that was her view, and perhaps she found the subject easy to dismiss because she had far better things to think about.

  She watched the seagulls soar and dive in the sky and tried not to betray her secret by smiling. Although she had no official confirmation from a physician, she knew she was pregnant. She felt altogether altered inside. There were bouts of nausea and tiredness, but above all, she felt an incredible inner peace, a joy like she’d never known. Now that she was actually with child, the idea of motherhood didn’t seem distasteful at all. In fact, she felt so buoyant she feared her face was giving her away at this very moment.

  But it wouldn’t do to announce her pregnancy to her family. She’d shocked them enough already. And it would only add to Leo’s conceit when he discovered he’d been right about the outcome of their tryst at The Crystal Music Hall.

  “I never would have expected you to run off with a man,” her sister Jacqueline scolded. The gleam in her huge brown eyes belied her tone. She looked as fetching as ever, the picture of Maman, with warm sparkling eyes, a pert nose, and her small but full-lipped mouth. A rose colored gown with puffed sleeves set off her petite figure. Wisps of her thick wavy dark hair blew about her face. “Not even in my wildest adventures did I ever come close to that.” She sounded jealous.

  Alexandre and Mrs. Horton exchanged a look of amusement. No one else did, particularly Maman and Papa.

  Claudine did not wish to inspire to her sister to further acts of daring. Jacqueline was already too unmanageable by half. “And I hope you never will. My reckless behavior should serve as a cautionary tale for you.” They were less than two years apart in age but as different as sisters could be. Jacqueline was extraverted, witty, and confident. Claudine had always been quiet and introspective, but perhaps those days were at an end.

  “A cautionary tale that ends with marrying a handsome millionaire? I think I’ll take my chances.” That earned her a sharp look from their parents. “Have you entirely lost your sense humor, both of you?”

  “Lately, yes,” Maman said with a troubled expression upon her pretty face.

  Jacqueline wisely changed the subject. “It looks like you won’t need my advice on fashion anymore, Claude. Your dress is divine.”

  Claudine looked down at the Nile green silk. “It’s a bit much for the occasion, but Leo wanted me to wear it,” she turned toward her prospective husband beside her and their eyes locked.

  She couldn’t wait to become his wife. Madame Barnett had arranged everything so perfectly. The ceremony would be held in the garden overlooking the ocean in the morning. A tent had been set up on the lawn for the reception. Leo had gotten his wish after all. Most of his wide business and social circle had responded with enthusiasm to the last minute invitation despite the travel involved and various bizarre and conflicting rumors about his bride’s background. Contrary to Leo’s avowal of anti-social tendencies, he had a diverse array of friends from the various phases of his life.

  “Such love you have between you,” Jacqueline observed dreamily, pressing her gloved hand to her small bosom. “That other one never stood a chance.”

  Maman sent another sharp look her way.

  “Who?” Claudine asked with a sinking feeling.

  “That de Malliffet fellow. I didn’t care for him at all.”

  “When did you see him?”

  “Just before we sailed. He came to our home and made all sorts of dreadful insinuations about you. It was the strangest episode. He condemned you in one breath and deigned to marry you in the next. He was not well received.”

  “I thought he was Papa’s friend,” Claudine whispered.

  Maman’s dainty red mouth scrunched with disdain. “A pretentious brute like that?”

  “We’re scarcely acquainted,” Papa said with contempt. “I find his manner as affected as his title. I threw him out. No one insults my daughter. You are perfect.”

  Claudine’s eyes burned at the assuredness of her father’s tone. She was far from perfect, but she’d longed to hear such praise from Papa all her life.

  Leo clasped her hand under the table, and she knew he’d been correct in his assessment of her parents. If she had revealed the truth about that night, they would have comforted and supported her no matter what Philippe claimed. Her father’s name and reputation carried far more credibility than that of a baron of dubious origins.

  “Leonardo told me you’re going to sing at his newest theater after your honeymoon,” Aunt Henriette said from across the table. She looked more stylish than ever in a claret colored three-piece ensemble with black passementerie trim and a black feathered hat. “I can’t wait to see you on stage.”

  “How exciting,” Maman declared. Papa’s grim expression suggested a different view.

  Leo put his arm around Claudine. “She’s also going to teach music to children at Ardaut House. She’s excellent with children.” That idea received universal praise.

  Jacqueline plucked a cluster of grapes from a towering display of assorted fruit. “Maybe I could help with that. I was thinking it might be nice to stay here in America for a while with you and Leonardo.”

  Claudine never understood why Jacqueline had chosen to go away to school in the first place. She saw it as a desertion, and the old wound had never healed. Besides, she never knew what to expect from her sister, and she desired stability now more than ever. “Don’t you have to get back to your school for the autumn term? This would be your final year there, wouldn’t it?”

  Jacqueline popped one of the grapes in
her mouth as Maman and Papa exchanged a look. “There was an incident,” Maman said tersely. “The headmistress requested that Jacqueline not return.”

  There had been a great many “incidents” over the course of Jacqueline’s life. Everything she said and did reeked of overactive imagination and drama, but she’d never been tossed out of a school. She was the one who blithely skated through life, doing whatever she pleased without consequence. At least that was the way it had always seemed to her older sister. “What sort of incident?”

  “We needn’t discuss that now,” Maman said. “Tonight we are celebrating your happiness.”

  “Jacqueline can stay with me at Ardaut House if you can’t find room,” Madame Barnett chimed in.

  “Of course we can find room,” Leo said cheerfully.

  Claudine gave him a warning look. “Did you forget? We sail for Italy in three days.” She couldn’t wait to have her husband all to herself.

  “We won’t be gone forever. She can stay here in any case.”

  “Who will chaperone Jacqueline while we’re away?”

  “I will,” Aunt Henriette said. “Did I mention your lovely Leonardo already said I could stay on for a month or two? There’s an artists’ colony not far from here, and I’m dying to add some Americans to my collection.”

  That elicited many raised eyebrows and one or two smirks. “The thrill of discovery, I know it well,” Leo said, kissing the tip of Claudine’s nose.

  His adoring look was all it took to make Claudine forget her worries about having Jacqueline as a houseguest. Everyone deserved a second chance. They might even begin to rebuild their relationship while spending time with their wonderful and wise aunt who had been correct in her prediction after all. The right man did eventually come along.