The Danice Allen Anthology

by Danice Allen

  “Don’t you want to know who she is, dearest?” prompted Nan, leaning forward and patting Sam’s arm solicitously.

  “No, I don’t believe I do,” Sam said coolly. “For a so-called ‘lady of quality’ she behaved very badly.”

  “She’s not a lady of quality … or, at least, not in the way you mean it. And she didn’t behave badly at all,” Julian said. “Like everyone else your father had anything to do with, she was tricked.”

  Sam turned to Julian, sudden hope making her heart beat fast and her throat go dry. “Wh-what do you mean, Julian?” she stammered.

  “Your mother is an actress, Sam. An actress you have seen and admired. She is Genevieve DuBois.”

  Sam’s mouth dropped open in astonishment. “Genevieve DuBois?” she repeated faintly.

  “Genevieve DuBois?” the aunts chorused together.

  “Now you know how you got your penchant for drama, Sam,” he said dryly.

  “But how…? Why…?” Sam was full of questions, but was too shocked to be able to form the necessary words and string them together in a coherent sentence. But Julian understood. It was amazing, Sam thought, how he could be so smart about some things and so stupid about others! He was too stupid to believe in and return her affection, but he knew exactly what she needed to hear about her mother; everything! Everything from before Sam was born, and everything since she was born.

  Sam paid rapt attention as Julian told the sad and shocking story that painted an even uglier picture of her father than before. But as difficult as it was to hear the sordid details and to believe her own flesh and blood capable of such cold and cruel duplicity, at least now she knew the truth … the whole truth. And the truth absolved her mother of all guilt!

  When Julian was done talking, Sam noticed that he sat very still and studied her face, waiting for her reaction. But, from the smile that was tugging at the corners of her mouth and the tears of joy that filled her eyes, it wouldn’t take him long to figure out that she was deliriously happy. Too happy to keep it to herself!

  “Oh, Julian, I’m so glad!” she exclaimed, jumping up from the footstool and throwing her arms around his neck as he still sat in the chair.

  Shocked, and a little too pleased to find Sam sprawled across his lap with her arms twined around his neck, Julian pushed himself to a standing position while Sam held on, clinging to him like a barnacle to a ship’s hull. Once he managed to get in a vertical position, Julian gave the aunts a sheepish grin over Sam’s shoulder while he tried to limit his caresses to a few brotherly pats on the back. But the embrace continued, and Julian was beginning to fear that he would become visibly aroused while the aunts watched with unabashed interest. Then, just as Julian was growing desperate enough to forcibly pry Sam’s arms from around his neck, she abruptly let go.

  “This is wonderful!” Sam exclaimed, pacing the floor in feverish excitement. “I can’t believe it! I have a mother, a real mother. She didn’t abandon me! She wanted to keep me! Oh when can I see her, Julian? Tonight?”

  Julian had not been prepared for Sam’s excited and joyful response because he had not perfectly understood her seeming indifference over the past few weeks about finding her mother. He had suspected that she was only pretending not to care, but it wasn’t till this moment that he realized why. Apparently she had been afraid of being hurt and rejected again.

  Sam had been stunned and hurt to discover that her mother was still alive and, presumably, prosperous, while she had been abandoned by both her parents to a life of severe emotional and physical deprivation. She was afraid that by finding her mother, her worst suspicions would be confirmed.

  Julian could well imagine how relieved and overjoyed Sam felt to find out that her mother had had no part in contributing to her suffering. That Genevieve DuBois had, in fact, wanted to keep Sam and was devastated to wake up from a drug-induced sleep to be told her child was stillborn.

  “Well, Julian?” Sam prompted, standing with her hands clasped eagerly before her and bouncing restively on her heels. “Can we go to meet my … my mother tonight!”

  “Sam…” Julian began, placing his hands on her shoulders. She was so excited, he could feel her trembling. He fought the urge to pull her into his arms again. “Perhaps visiting Madame DuBois tonight would … well … not be a good idea.”

  “Why not?” Sam asked, her eyes shining, her face aglow as she gazed up at him. “I know there’s the Wilmots’ ball tonight, but that isn’t important! We’ll send them a note tomorrow morning telling them I was sick or something.” Her face suddenly clouded. “Or do you mean my mother might not want to see me tonight? Should I send her a note first, asking her when it would be convenient? Only I do think she’ll be just as eager to see me as I am to see her, Julian!”

  “I daresay you are quite right about that, Sam,” Julian agreed cautiously.

  “Then what are we waiting for?” Sam demanded happily.

  Julian lightly ran his hands up and down Sam’s shivering arms, praying that he would find the right words to say without hurting or offending her. “You have an impulsive nature, my dear. Don’t you think you should take some time to think about this before committing yourself to a … er … relationship with your mother?”

  Sam’s brows drew together. Her smile vanished. “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I want a relationship with her?”

  Sam’s look and question were so endearing, so naive, Julian wasn’t sure he had the heart to go on. He glanced over Sam’s head at Priss and Nan, both their faces etched with empathy and concern. He telegraphed a question and they both nodded. Yes, of course, he thought to himself. I must speak plainly to her. She must understand every repercussion.

  “Sam, please sit down,” Julian suggested, gently turning her and seating her in the chair he’d just vacated. Then, just as he had on the night he first broke the news that her mother was presumably still living, he knelt down beside her and caught hold of her hands.

  By now, Sam’s face reflected suspicion and dread. “I don’t like the tender way you’re treating me, Julian. I have a feeling I’m not going to like what you’re about to say.”

  “I’m sure you won’t,” Julian agreed. “But it must be said.”

  She straightened her shoulders. “Then say it.”

  “My dear … have you considered what will happen if it becomes public knowledge that you are the illegitimate daughter of a stage actress?”

  He felt her immediately stiffen. A look of surprise flitted over her face to be quickly replaced by one of angry pride. “No, I had not considered what people would think. I was too happy to find out that I have a mother to give the idle reflections of shallow, hypocritical people a single moment’s thought!” She turned away, but she still gripped his hands tightly.

  “That the majority of people are shallow and hypocritical is not an opinion that I could successfully argue against,” Julian began. “Nor would I even try, because I completely agree with you. However, the facts are as plain as a pikestaff, my dear! If word got out that Genevieve DuBois is your natural mother, you would be shunned by polite society. Very possibly, you would not be able to make a respectable marriage. Most men shy away from scandal when looking for a bride.”

  Sam’s head jerked around as she flung at him, “Oh, but I’m sure I’d still be quite popular with the gentlemen! Only instead of marriage proposals I would receive propositions of a decidedly different nature, wouldn’t I, Julian? Men don’t give a fig who your mother is if they only want to bed you. But perhaps I was never meant to make a respectable marriage. Maybe, all things considered, I’m destined to be someone’s mistress after all!”

  “Don’t talk that way, child!” Nan exclaimed, jumping up from her seat on the sofa and scurrying over.

  “You have as much right to a respectable marriage as anyone,” Priss corroborated, fast on her sister’s heels. “You’re as good as anyone. Better than most!”

  “But only as long as I don’t let them know the truth about me.
Only if I hide the fact that Genevieve DuBois is my mother,” Sam angrily retorted. “But she is my mother, and I don’t care who knows!”

  Julian had been silent since Sam made the remark about being destined to be a mistress, because he had had to take a moment to compose himself before speaking. Now he caught Sam’s chin and forced her to look at him. “Firstly, my dear girl,” he said in a voice that vibrated with suppressed fury, “if I ever hear you malign yourself in such a manner again, I shall be tempted to take a strap to you.”

  “Bah! Don’t talk so, Julian!” Priss exclaimed, wringing her hands.

  “He wouldn’t do it, Priss,” Nan interposed scornfully. “He’d just be tempted!”

  “And secondly,” he continued in the same chilly tone, “how do you even know that Madame DuBois wants it known that you’re her flesh and blood? Did it never occur to you, brat, that she has a reputation to preserve as well? That she has a right to privacy, too?”

  Julian watched to see what effect his words would have on Sam. He was pleased to see her features alter as she obviously considered what he’d said.

  “I never thought of that,” she finally whispered, glancing uncertainly at him.

  “Well, I don’t suppose you can think of everything,” he conceded, his manner immediately softening. “I know that Madame DuBois is eager to make your acquaintance, Sam, but I’m not so sure she wants your relationship to become public.”

  Sam looked stricken. “Do you think she’s ashamed of me?”

  “No, my dear,” Julian assured her, releasing his hold on her chin and running his fingers down her soft, smooth cheek. “She is prodigiously proud of you. She told me so herself. I talked of her wanting to protect her privacy, but I’m very sure that it’s you she wishes to protect. She doesn’t want you to ruin your chance to be respectably married just because your mother happens to be an actress!”

  Sam shook her head, looking perturbed. “But don’t you understand, Julian? If my mother wished it, I would gladly keep my past and my parentage a secret from the whole world. However, there would have to be one exception.”

  Julian raised a brow. “And who might that exception be?”

  “I could never lie to my husband. And he’s the very person I’m supposed to keep this information away from in order to snag him in the first place! Do you see how ridiculous this situation is?” She sighed deeply and gave him an accusing look from under her thick lashes. “Therefore, I suppose there’s no doubt now that I shall die a spinster!”

  The aunts immediately began arguing against such a harebrained idea, and Julian was spared the necessity of replying. However, had the aunts not been available to reason away Sam’s dismal predictions, Julian might have been tempted to offer himself as a willing bridegroom on the spot. After all, he knew everything there was to know about Sam, her past and her parents … and he still loved her. Hell, maybe he loved her even more because of everything she’d been through.

  But, thank God, the aunts had been available and he had not made the mistake of proposing. The realization that he was in love with Sam was too new. It was too soon to make decisions, especially impulsive decisions based on raw emotions. He must be cautious. After all, there was time. It wasn’t as if Sam were going to engage herself immediately to some other man if Julian didn’t pop the question that very night.

  Besides, even though Sam was insisting that she must be completely honest with any man who wanted to marry her, perhaps she would eventually change her mind. So, instead of charging in on his white horse to rescue her from spinsterhood, Julian thought it prudent to bide his time and give Sam the opportunity really to know her own mind and heart. It was the wise and cautious thing to do.

  Once the aunts had finished their loving lecture, Julian convinced Sam that it would be best if they kept their original plans for the evening and went to the Wilmots’ ball. Genevieve DuBois would be performing that night at the theater, anyway, and they could send her a note in the morning and then visit her later the following afternoon.

  Sam agreed to this plan, although she was obviously very sorry to put off a meeting she had been wishing for her entire life.

  Julian, however, was only too happy to postpone the meeting and all the other crises that were presently brewing in his formerly smooth-as-silk life. Damn … when had he so completely lost control?

  The Wilmots’ ball was a rather grand affair, but Sam was in no mood for the glitter and gaiety of the elite social world she had strived so hard to fit into. As her usual admirers flocked around her, all she could think about was that if they knew the truth about her, they’d make themselves scarce in an instant. For the sake of appearances, Sam tried to appear her usual vivacious self, but it was a struggle.

  As for Julian, he had kept his distance all evening, mingling with friends and acquaintances, but not dancing. The aunts were playing cards in the next room, leaving Julian to guard his charge alone.

  So far, Sam had not seen Charlotte there, but she frequently came late to parties and might still appear. Then maybe Julian would shake off his melancholy, Sam thought wistfully. He looked very grave tonight and was probably looking forward to unburdening himself to Charlotte about all his problems. And the biggest problem facing him at the moment was what to do with his troublesome ward!

  Sam could well imagine that Julian was worried that he’d never get rid of his charge now that she was insisting on total honesty with any man who aspired to be her husband. As Julian had said himself, most men shy away from scandal when looking for a bride. But Sam had never wanted to marry anyone but Julian, anyway, so the idea of spinsterhood was preferable to being married to someone she didn’t love. She’d only thrown the “doomed to die a spinster” complaint in Julian’s face to remind him that he had the power to change her destiny … if only he would admit he was in love with her!

  Having just finished dancing a cotillion with a talkative pink of the ton, Sam was delighted to find Jean-Luc walking toward her. She held her hands out to him with a relieved and welcoming smile. “Jean-Luc,” she exclaimed. “How glad I am at the sight of you!”

  Jean-Luc took her hands and immediately drew her away from the crowd toward the less populated end of the ballroom. Then he bent near her ear and whispered, “And how glad I am to see you smile, chère. I was watching you dance, and, though you tried to look happy, I could tell that something was bothering you very much. I would like to flatter myself into believing that you were simply missing me, but, alas, I know that can’t be the only reason for your gloomy disposition,” he teased. Then he sobered and squeezed her hands affectionately. “What is the matter, Sam?”

  Jean-Luc was looking at her with such kindness and seemed so sincerely interested in her concerns, Sam was very touched. “Oh, Jean-Luc, how I wish I could tell you everything. It would be such a relief.”

  “Then tell me. You trust me, don’t you? Perhaps I can help.” He smiled crookedly. “I proved myself useful today when I masqueraded as a robber, didn’t I?”

  Sam laughed. “Yes, indeed. But my problem can’t be fixed so easily as Ninian’s was.” She sighed and smiled resignedly. “And this is far too public a place for a conversation that must be private.”

  Jean-Luc raised a sly brow, his eyes suddenly gleaming with mischief. “Ah, but I am familiar with the Wilmots’ house, having spent an entire spring holiday here when I was going to Eton with the Wilmots’ eldest son, Sebastian. It would be easy for me to find us a private chamber.”

  “I don’t think so, Jean-Luc,” Sam demurred. “If anyone should see us leave and then remark on our absence … Everyone always enjoys thinking the worst, you know.”

  “I will take you to the supper room, then we can escape down the hall.”

  “But it’s not time for supper. Won’t people wonder why we’re going there?”

  “As the next set for dancing forms, there will be enough confusion to hide our escape.”

  Sam bit her lip. She was tempted. “I don’t know…�
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  “I promise not to keep you away above ten minutes. No one will miss us in so short a time. But will that be long enough for you to tell me what’s troubling you?”

  “With time to spare,” Sam acknowledged, warming to the idea. She couldn’t help but think that getting a friend’s view of her situation might be helpful.

  “Then perhaps there will be time to talk to you about something that troubles me, as well,” he suggested, his handsome dark eyes peering inquiringly into hers.

  Sam was surprised—she had not supposed that anything troubled devil-may-care Jean-Luc—but she readily agreed. Certainly if Jean-Luc was willing to listen to her talk about her problems, she was willing to listen to him talk about his.

  “Let’s go, then,” Jean-Luc said in a conspiratorial whisper.

  Sam nodded, glancing toward the crowd to make sure no one—especially not Julian—was watching them suspiciously. But she shouldn’t have worried. She saw Charlotte enter the ballroom on her father’s arm, and then observed Julian immediately approach them. There could be no doubt of it, Sam thought with a sigh, Charlotte was still Julian’s first object. She turned and left with Jean-Luc, sadly certain that she would never be missed even if she were gone an hour!

  Chapter Sixteen

  Like truant children, Jean-Luc and Sam held hands and sneaked down a dimly lit hall to a back section of the large house. At one point, Jean-Luc snatched a branch of candles off a table so that when they entered a certain dark chamber, Sam was soon able to see that they were in what appeared to be a small parlor.

  Having set the candelabra on the mantel, Jean-Luc turned and rubbed his hands together like a villain in a play, saying with a devilish smile, “Alone at last!”

  Sam laughed, not afraid of him in the least. She sat down on a forest-green satin sofa and patted the cushion next to her. “To show you how much I trust you, Jean-Luc, I am inviting you to sit beside me.