‘Don’t be an ass,’ Freddy said, placing the last pin. He leaped to his feet, grabbed Minette’s hand and gave his friend a smile he did not feel. Although there was something satisfying in the feel of that small gloved hand within his palm, as if it belonged there. ‘We were about to come and find you and share our good news. You can be the first to congratulate us on our betrothal.’
The grimness around Gabe’s mouth did not ease. ‘I gather, then, that Sparshott did not offer his felicitations.’
Sarcasm. From his friend. They’d often disagreed, but they’d always had mutual respect. ‘It was a rather awkward moment.’
Minette’s hand quivered in his. His spine stiffened, the tension growing second by second as he prayed her temper wasn’t such that she would deny their engagement and send Gabe’s anger over the edge. He was a good friend, but when it came to his women he was very protective. Renewed anger simmered in his own veins. At her role in driving a wedge between him and a man he’d come to think of as a brother. He held Gabe’s gaze without flinching. ‘Well, aren’t you going to wish us happiness?’
Gabe blew out a breath and stuck out a reluctant hand. ‘Congratulations.’
The tension in his neck eased as he shook it. He glanced down at Minette and realised she wasn’t looking any happier than he felt. He pulled her close and kissed her cheek. ‘I’m sorry, Gabe. Our passion got the better of us when we realised we both wanted this. We should have come to speak to you and Nicky right away.’
‘We will talk more in the morning. You will both come with me now.’ Gabe shot a glance at Minette. ‘We need to look like a family with joyous news.’
A bright smile appeared on Minette’s lips. ‘Bien sûr,’ she said gaily. ‘Très heureux. Is it not so, my dearest Freddy?’
‘Without question,’ he replied, with an equally false smile.
God help him, what a mess.
* * *
To Minette’s acutely sensitive emotions, it seemed as if the buzz of conversation ceased when she and Freddy entered the ballroom. But it resumed too quickly to be sure. She held her head high, showing not a scrap of shame on her face. The heat she felt on her cheeks was caused by her anger at Freddy’s assumption that she had intended to trick him into marriage.
Why she would care so deeply about what he thought she didn’t know. This engagement was the perfect answer to her conundrum, so why did she feel so uncomfortable inside? The answer struck her in one of those odd flashes of realisation. Freddy’s reaction. His horror. Pain stabbed behind her breastbone. The pain of betrayal.
Nonsense. The whole thing was a horrible accident. One she’d find a way to put right.
Shackled for life, he’d said with such cold remoteness. Hardly. She would cry off after a time and that would be that. Not even a duke could force a woman into a marriage she didn’t want. This wasn’t the Middle Ages. And certainly she wouldn’t marry a man who thought he’d been tricked. A girl had her pride.
Sweet smiles and blushes were to be expected from a newly betrothed debutante, so all she needed to do at this moment was curve her lips and fool the world. The anxious look from her sister said it wasn’t working, so she surged forward and took both of Nicky’s hands in hers. ‘Wish me well, sister. His Grace has done me the honour of asking for my hand.’
If anything, Nicky looked even more concerned, but a warning glance from Gabe had her lips curving in the well-practised smile of a politician’s wife. ‘Dearest,’ she said, leaning forward to kiss each of her cheeks. ‘Are you sure?’ she whispered.
Always Nicky offered her support. And always Minette felt as if she’d let her sister down. She threw her arms around Nicky’s neck. ‘Positive.’ Later would come the recriminations and even later the disappointment of an ended engagement, but right now they would show a united front.
She stepped back and received Gabe’s blessing, a formal kiss on each cheek.
Her brother-in-law then shook hands with Freddy.
Nicky also held out her hand, and Freddy bowed over it with the manly elegance that always stole Minette’s breath.
‘You will be good to her,’ Nicky warned.
He nodded and looked perfectly content, as if he really did want this marriage. The man was an excellent actor, easily able to hide his true feelings. He wasn’t the only one. She kept her smile bright.
The musicians struck up the opening bars of the next set and everyone’s attention drifted slowly away. A quick scan of those about her assured her no one really cared. Her gaze met that of the girl who had accidentally given her and Freddy away. Priscilla.
Seeing that Minette had noticed her regard, the girl offered a tentative smile and mouthed, ‘I’m sorry.’
Minette waved an airy hand of forgiveness. Not that she had anything to forgive. This was the outcome she’d wanted. Almost. Freddy’s agreement to her plan without all the scandal would have been a hundred times better than what had occurred. She’d seen Lord Sparshott’s face as she’d peered around Freddy. He’d definitely realised things had gone quite a bit further than a peck on the cheek or even a passionate kiss. He’d be quick to express shock when she cried off.
A pretend engagement agreed to by both parties in private, as she’d suggested, would have been a much better idea.
Tiens. It was far too late for remorse. What was done was done. But Freddy was wrong about one thing. The situation was not irretrievable.
* * *
Freddy left Gabe’s study reasonably satisfied with the settlement he had reached with his future wife’s outraged brother-in-law. At first, Gabe’s attitude had bordered on starchy, but once he realised Freddy had no intention of being anything but generous, and that he intended to observe all the courtesies with regard to his prospective bride, he’d mellowed. They’d even managed a cordial glass of brandy and a toast to the future. Indeed, Freddy had the very real hope he might one day regain the trust of his once best friend.
One thing he had not done had been to relay his suspicions about Minette’s entrapment of him or her reasons. That concerned no one but the two of them.
Good God, he was actually going to be married. To a little spitfire who heated his blood beyond reason. Heaven help him. The thought of having her in his bed almost made up for how she’d got him to the sticking point. And the thought of Liz’s anger when she heard the news of his engagement was almost worth the price. Not that he intended to do his nephews out of their inheritance. He didn’t want children any more than he had wanted a wife.
And that was going to be a problem, based on what he’d learned in Gosport’s library. He found Minette’s boldness practically irresistible. Before coming to England, she’d not led the innocent, protected life of her peers. And if during that time she’d used her feminine wiles as a means of defence he would not blame her one bit. The fact that she also used them as a weapon, against him, gave him pause. And sent blood racing south.
There were ways to prevent the arrival of children that did not require forgoing mutual pleasure. He certainly wasn’t going to let her cry off, as she had suggested.
He would not permit another scandal in his family. Particularly one easily avoided.
And now he would have yet another responsibility he had never wanted. A wife.
No doubt this one would be troublesome. Demanding. Wily. Untrustworthy. Utterly, deliciously sensual. Hell, his mind was wandering again. Theirs was going to be a marriage of convenience. With added benefits. The coldness inside him prevented any deeper feelings. As long as children didn’t ensue, everything would be fine.
He headed for the drawing room, where Gabe said Minette was waiting, knocked on the door and entered. She was standing at the window, looking down into the street, standing to one side so she would not be seen.
As always, her feminine allure called to his baser urges.
&n
bsp; But it wasn’t that alone, it was her audacity, her passion, the energy she exuded. Dangerous attributes to a man in his line of work.
Slowly, she turned to face him. ‘Is it done?’
The calmness in her face troubled him. Their dealings had never been calm. No doubt she was trying to hide her triumph at the success of her little plot. He would do well to remember how she had tricked him.
‘The terms are agreed upon,’ he said.
She nodded.
For some reason, he wanted more than cool looks and calm acceptance. He crossed the room and took her hands in his. They were cold. As icy as her expression. Was she suffering qualms? Too bad. It was too late for second thoughts. He lifted first one hand to his lips and then the other. A formal acknowledgement of their future. ‘I will inform my mother of the good news and arrange for an engagement ball at my estate in Kent at the end of next week. That will be time enough to send out invitations. The wedding will take place in three months. After the banns are called.’
She lowered her lashes as if to hide her thoughts, but her gaze was clear when she finally looked at him. ‘Engagement ball? Is it really necessary?’
‘Gabe insists. And I agree. A ball will confirm our assertion that what Sparshott saw was a congratulatory kiss, as well as uphold your virtue and put paid to some of the gossip. An event attended by all the right people showing their approval will do the trick.’
She looked far from happy. ‘What about our other plans? Won’t it interfere?’
‘I thought this was what you wanted. An engagement, so we can go about together without engendering comment.’
‘It was, but is it necessary to involve so many others?’
Could it be that while she wanted the title, she was ashamed of the owner? Or had she been truthful all along and it had been nothing but a dreadful coincidence? None of it mattered. ‘We have no choice but to go through with it in proper style.’
‘You are right. We will deal with the engagement part later.’
Deal with it? He eyed her narrowly as with quick, short steps she headed for a chair by the hearth and perched on its edge. She gestured for him to sit on the sofa. ‘We need to arrange our meeting with the person who can help us find Moreau.’
The reason for this whole fiasco. ‘So it was not some Banbury tale?’
A slight shake of her head, a puzzled frown. ‘Banbury? I do not understand.’
‘It means lies.’
Her face cleared. ‘Mon cher Freddy, you misjudge me but then, you always have. There is a woman who lives in Southwark who can tell us what we need to know. For a consideration, as I mentioned.’
‘Us? I wouldn’t take a dog of mine to Southwark, let alone a young lady.’
The determined chin came up. ‘If you go alone, she will tell you nothing. Women talk to other women. And she is French.’
‘There are other women I can use.’
She shrugged. ‘But you do not know her name. Come tomorrow at nine in the morning. I will guide you to her door.’
With a glare, he rose to his feet. ‘I will take you driving tomorrow. In Hyde Park. It is important that we be seen together. But we will not be going to Southwark, je vous assure.’
‘How prettily you speak French,’ she said with a catlike smile. ‘So perfect. So very English.’
He cursed under his breath. God preserve him from stubborn women. As he saw it, he had two choices. Refuse her request and risk her going off half-cocked without him, or give in.
‘Nine tomorrow morning,’ he said through gritted teeth.
Surely by then Barker could find this woman, now he knew where to look.
* * *
Minette tried to sit still while her maid finished dressing her hair. Anxiety gnawed at her belly. What if Madame Vitesse was lying about her knowledge of Moreau? What if it was a trap? Freddy would be so angry. He would certainly never give her a second chance. No. She had been so very careful. Things had to go according to plan. They must.
‘All done, mademoiselle,’ the maid said, eyeing the effect of her handiwork in the mirror. Curls framing her face. Her hair piled on her crown, ready to receive the straw bonnet whose plumes matched her form-fitting carriage dress of pale blue sarsenet.
Minette rose from the rosewood dressing table and took the bonnet from her maid’s hand, placing it on her head, just so. The maid tied the blue velvet ribbon under her left ear. ‘You look beautiful, mademoiselle. The Duke is sure to be pleased.’
Unlikely, but that was no reason not to look the part.
‘Christine, you must promise not to breathe a word of our intention to visit Southwark today to anyone.’
‘Mais, non, mademoiselle. Your secrets are safe with me. Always.’
Minette believed her. The maid, too, had lost innocent family in France’s grand experiment and had been embarrassingly grateful when offered this position. She would not lie to Minette about anything.
Nicky breezed in looking very matronly in a pale green morning gown that clearly showed her expanding waistline. ‘Freddy’s phaeton is outside the house. He sent his tiger to the door, since he won’t leave the horses. Are you ready?’
‘Oh, yes.’ Ready for battle. She kissed her sister on the cheek and hurried down the stairs. If there was anything to put a man in a temper, she’d learned since coming out, it was keeping his horses fretting at their bits. And an irritated Freddy would only compound the difficulty of her task.
The butler bowed her out of the door with a warm smile. At the kerb stood a shiny black vehicle with wheels picked out in navy and gold, drawn by a pair of matched black horses with white stars on their foreheads. The phaeton had attracted the rapt attention of the street sweeper, who had left his customary post on the corner to stand mouth agape.
Helped up by the waiting footman, Minette bestowed a smile on Freddy. ‘Good morning, Your Grace.’
The dark look he gave her did not augur a better mood than yesterday. Fa-la. No more than she’d expected.
He gave the horses the off and the tiger jumped up behind.
When they entered Hyde Park she glowered. ‘We were to go to Southwark.’
He reined in the horses. ‘Jimmy,’ he threw over his shoulder, ‘go and find some violets for the lady.’
‘Wot, at this time of year, guv?’
‘Violets,’ Freddy said firmly. ‘Take them to Barker. He will arrange for their delivery upon my return.’
The tiger muttered something under his breath and jumped down.
‘If you wanted us to be alone, you could have sent him home, instead of on a wild-goose chase,’ she said.
‘I could. But then I wouldn’t have had a reason why we were driving alone.’
‘Ah.’
He set the horses in motion. ‘Now I’ll have the whole of it.’
‘I do not understand your meaning.’
A brow shot up. His lips pressed together as if he was seeking to contain words he did not think he should say. After several long seconds he spoke. ‘Who is this woman in Southwark and how do you know of her?’
She gave him a glance full of sympathy. ‘Your men didn’t find her, did they? When we get there you will learn all you need to know.’
He muttered something under his breath. A curse, no doubt. ‘I hope you don’t live to regret this, Mademoiselle Rideau.’
‘Should we not be on a first-name basis now we are betrothed?’
He glanced over at her, his lips eased very slightly, and was that a twinkle in his eyes? ‘Minette.’
Yes, indeed, his voice had laughter at the edges.
She smiled at him. ‘Come, it will not be so bad, Freddy. We will work together to put Moreau in the ground.’
He gave a slight shake of his head. ‘I do not like this game you a
re playing and, believe me, I’ll not be giving you a free hand, my sweet.’
My sweet. Her heart gave an odd little flutter. Too bad he did not mean it. She smiled coolly. ‘Naturally not. But there are some things I must insist upon at the outset.’
‘We’ll deal with those later. Right now I need to know where I am going.’
‘We cross the river at London Bridge.’
His expression darkened. ‘So I am to follow your directions street by street. You do know Southwark is a hotbed of unsavoury types, do you not?’
‘Naturellement. But, then, I have you to protect me.’
His jaw flexed, his expression became thoughtful. ‘So you do.’
Chapter Four
The drive to London Bridge remained starkly silent, with Freddy apparently too engrossed in managing his team in the press of traffic for conversation. Or too annoyed with her prevarication. Not that the streets were quiet. Indeed, they bustled with people and carriages, assaulting hearing, sight and each indrawn breath. The cacophony of colour, noise and smells became more intense as they drove east. A stench of manure, rotting vegetables and overcrowding battled with the noise of street vendors and vehicles of every kind.
It took more than an hour to reach London Bridge and make their way to Southwark.
‘Now where?’ he asked, with his usual chilly reserve and an expression she was sure was designed to keep her at a distance. Her and the rest of the world.
‘Aren’t you going to ask for the address?’
‘I have no doubt you will tell me when you are ready. I have no doubt that it will be located among the worst of the slums. You have a penchant for going where no lady should tread.’
A jibe at her presence at his club. So there was to be no quarter given between them. Not that she had really expected it. Not when he still thought she had trapped him on purpose. She almost wished she had, then she wouldn’t feel quite so aggrieved, since she could not deny that this engagement suited her purpose admirably. But his anger and distrust gave her a miserable feeling. They had never been friends, but now they were going to have to spend a great deal of time in each other’s company, and it would be better if they could at least be cordial.
The Duke's Daring Debutante (Regency Historical Romance) Page 5
