by Regina Scott
“We must speak with Lilith,” the countess told Yvette as they waited for their plates to be brought from the kitchen. “We have much to plan. I want to go over that invitation list.”
Again. Yvette tried not to sigh. “Are there not other things to do?”
“Of course! I’ve been waiting for years for Lilith to reach this day. I know exactly what must be done—items for her trousseau, the wedding ensemble, flowers, the wedding breakfast.” She sniffed. “You can be sure we’ll do better than those starchy pastries Wey served.”
Yvette had enjoyed the sweets. “And if your daughter should sleep late this morning?”
The countess shook her head. “I’ll simply begin making arrangements myself.”
She saw a fight coming. “Perhaps we should think of other pastimes. What did you do before you retreated to your bed?”
She frowned as if thinking. “I held teas for the local aristocracy, arranged flowers for each of the rooms, and assisted in raising funds for the Society for the Literacy of the Young.”
“Bon,” Yvette said. “You can write to the society today and see how you can help now. We will consider tea in the future, but flowers we can arrange now.” She glanced to Marbury, who nodded his understanding.
No one else joined them for breakfast. Yvette wasn’t sure whether to be disappointed or relieved. She longed to see Gregory yet couldn’t help wondering how he would react to her. That kiss would make it hard for her to remember her role, but his face would betray any feelings.
Lilith appeared when Yvette and the countess were ensconced in a small, cozy sitting room in the north wing. The Tapestry Room, Lady Carrolton called it. Woven scenes from Biblical stories were framed and hung like paintings from the high ceiling, and similar scenes graced the upholstery on the settee and chairs grouped around the hearth. Marbury had had the footmen deliver a profusion of blooms as well as various vases and sheers, and Lady Carrolton was creating arrangements.
“You’re working?” Lilith asked with a frown to Yvette, as if she should be the one clipping the flowers.
Her mother snipped the end off an amaryllis, the purple rich against the reds and tans of the tapestries around them. “I’m beautifying the house. It’s a suitable role for a lady of breeding.”
Lilith did not look convinced.
“Perhaps you should discuss flowers for the wedding,” Yvette suggested, handing the countess another blossom.
“What a delightful idea.” Lilith seated herself near her mother. “I was considering roses, but they are so common.”
“Lilies, perhaps,” her mother mused. “We seem to have a number of them. The gardener would know.”
So would Lady Carrolton’s son. Gregory would probably be delighted to deliver flowers for his sister’s wedding.
As if summoned by her thoughts, he came through the doorway and paused. He must have deemed his tweed coat too battered from the previous day, for he wore the requisite navy coat and fawn trousers of a gentleman, his cravat elegantly tied at his throat. Her breath caught.
“It’s good to see you up and engaged, Mother,” he said, coming to join them and bending to press a kiss against her cheek. Though it was a fraternal act, Yvette couldn’t help remembering another kiss, the feel of those lips against her own. She busied herself with the blossoms.
“We were discussing flowers for the wedding,” Lilith told him as if to prove she was industrious too. “Mother thought lilies.”
Gregory stuck out his lower lip as he straightened. Though he could only have slept for a few hours, Yvette detected no weariness on his face, no bags under his eyes.
“Lovely thought,” he mused, “but they are difficult to keep more than a day or two. What about Campanula, Canterbury Bells? We could grow them in tubs and place them around the church.”
As his mother and sister debated the possibilities, he bent closer to Yvette, breath brushing her ear. “With your permission, I’d like to take my mother and sister into our confidence.”
She nodded, feeling his cheek against her curls. She was blushing as he straightened.
“Not Canterbury Bells, then,” his mother decreed. “The vicar will want to use the tall silver vases your father donated. We must have something with long stems, Gregory.”
He inclined his head. “I’ll consider the matter. But I had another reason for seeking you. There is something you should know.”
Lady Carrolton looked up, wide-eyed. “You’re going to marry Miss French. I knew it.”
Yvette held back a gasp, gaze rushing to his. His cheeks flamed.
“I am not so fortunate,” he told his mother, gaze darting away from Yvette’s.
Lilith rose slowly to her feet, paling. “You’re going to challenge Beau to a duel.”
He frowned. “No, unless you tell me there’s some reason I must defend your honor.”
She sank back onto the chair. “No, of course not.”
Yvette found her voice. “Perhaps we should let him speak.” She gave him an encouraging nod.
His mother set down her sheers as if to give him all her attention. Lilith looked up expectantly.
“A few weeks ago,” he told them, “the War Office approached me for a secret mission.”
Lady Carrolton brightened. “Secret?”
“Yes. I was told to shelter a French aristocrat who had been serving the British. Because of her help, her life was now in danger from a Frenchman bent on revenge.”
“How thrilling,” his mother said. “What became of her?”
Lilith was staring at Yvette. “You.”
Her mother waved a hand. “Don’t be ridiculous, Lilith.”
Yvette smiled. “But she guessed correctly, your ladyship. My real name is Yvette de Maupassant, and my father was the Compte de Maupassant.”
“Making her rank equal to Lilith’s,” Gregory informed them.
Lilith leaned back in her chair.
His mother smiled. “Excellent. A French lady as my companion. Very clever of you, Gregory.”
She was taking it far better than Yvette had expected. Lilith, however, was not.
“Why are you telling us now?” she asked her brother, eyes narrowing.
Gregory squared his shoulders. “Because we have reason to believe the villain seeking Miss de Maupassant’s life has discovered her.”
“He’s here?” Lady Carrolton demanded, look more eager than fearful.
“I’m afraid so,” Gregory said. “But don’t worry. I’ve taken precautions to protect the house.”
Lilith sighed. “If only Beau were here. He’d protect us.”
Did she think her brother lacking? Yvette bristled on his behalf. “Mr. Villers has not been as helpful as he should.”
Lilith stiffened. “He knows?”
“He was sent here by the War Office to protect Miss de Maupassant,” Gregory explained.
Her face fell. “So that’s why you protested our betrothal. His courtship was all a ruse, to give him a reason for staying at Carrolton Park. I suppose I’ll never see him again.”
She could not watch Lilith suffer, despite her annoying behavior in the past. “Non, non,” Yvette assured her. “He wished to court you. In fact, at times, he forgot his true duty, so enamored was he of you.”
Her lips trembled. “Truly?”
Gregory nodded. “Quite true. He’ll be back any day with that marriage license, I have no doubt.”
She clasped her hands together. “Oh, I can hardly wait! Mother, we must hurry our plans.”
“Yes, yes,” the countess said. “Miss de Maupassant, fetch me that list.”
Gregory eyed his mother.
She frowned. “What? Am I to lose my companion merely because you brought her into the house under false pretenses?”
Now, that was the countess she knew. Yvette rose. “I will fetch the list. It is no trouble.”
Gregory looked to the butler. “Marbury, if you’d be so kind.”
She thought a smile hovered on th
e butler’s mouth. “At once, my lord.” He strode from the room.
Yvette turned to find Gregory watching her. His regard made her cheeks heat once more.
He had shared her secret with the others. Now, if only she could convince herself to share her secret love with him.
~~~
How lovely she was. The sparkle in her eyes, the bloom in her cheeks, the curve of her lips.
The way her lips felt against his.
Gregory tore his gaze away from Yvette to find Lilith regarding him thoughtfully. He shifted on his feet. “If we could get back to the matter at hand. I need you both to understand the situation. I have men protecting the house, but I cannot say the same for the rest of the estate. There’s simply too much territory, too many hiding places. Mother, Lilith, it is imperative that you remain inside for the time being.”
His mother nodded. Lilith did not look convinced.
“For how long?” she asked. “I must go to London to arrange for my trousseau.”
He wasn’t sure what that entailed, but he knew she could not go now. “Mr. Mayes is aware of Miss de Maupassant’s identity and is seeking direction from the War Office. I expect him any day with further instructions. Depending on the answer, you could leave for London immediately afterward.”
She nodded. “Very well.”
His mother picked up her sheers. “Might as well finish the flowers. We can then turn our attentions to wedding planning.”
“And perhaps your charming son would find us some more interesting blooms,” Yvette said with a smile.
He returned her smile. “Mais oui.”
She beamed at him.
Lilith rose. “Gregory, may I have a word with you? Excuse me a moment, Mother.” She swept for the door as if assuming he would follow. With a frown, he did.
She led him down the corridor, through the entry hall, and to his study, looking both ways before closing the door behind him.
“Is there another state secret of which I should be aware?” Gregory teased as she hurried to the windows to draw the drapes as well. The sliver of light that remained stabbed past the tall bookcases to make a stripe on the polished wood floor. He went to stand in the glow, and she joined him.
“How do you know she’s telling the truth?” she asked.
So that was the issue. Gregory straightened. “The request came from the War Office, not Miss de Maupassant.”
“And she was their spy,” his sister pointed out. “They would likely say anything to protect her. They could very well play on your sensibilities. Do you know whether she’s truly descended from a count?”
Was she jealous Yvette was her equal after all? “What does it matter, Lilith? She served England well, and now we must prevent her from paying the price.”
“At our expense?” She worried her hands before the black of her gown. “I have waited all my life to fall in love, to find a man who returns my love. I won’t have him harmed because of some Frenchwoman.”
“That is beneath you,” Gregory informed her. “Yvette didn’t wish herself in this position.”
“Neither did I. Yet here we are.”
Gregory sighed. “When Julian returns, I will request that Villers be excused from this duty. Will that resolve your concerns?”
“Some of them,” she admitted. “But there is more, Gregory. Perhaps it is because I am in love that I notice the emotions in others. You care about her.”
His friends, his family had remarked on his open face often enough for him to doubt it or try subterfuge now. He settled for a lesser truth. “She is under my protection.”
Lilith shook her head. “No, it’s more than that. You’re falling in love with her.”
Gregory raised his chin. “If I am, I doubt it is reciprocated.”
“I don’t.”
Hope surged. Lilith must have seen it, for she sighed. “Careful, Gregory. You know nothing about her. Do you wish your children to have a French criminal for a mother?”
Anger poked at him. He fought it down. “If I am blessed with children, I would expect they have an intelligent, loving woman for a mother.”
She had the good sense to drop her gaze. “I am only thinking of you. You saw how people reacted when the Duke of Wey married the governess.”
“I saw how you reacted,” Gregory countered. “Wey’s friends stood by him. His Jane is smart, warm natured, and a loving mother to his daughters. They will do well together.”
“Oh, Gregory,” she said, starting for the door. “Always the romantic.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, following her.
“It means you see you see only the best in people—Mother, me.” She paused. “Father.”
He cringed.
She stopped and put a hand on his arm. “Just don’t idealize Yvette de Maupassant. She must have endured impossible horrors, and she risked her life for England. But that doesn’t mean she’d make you a good countess.”
She released him and left the room before he could tell her she was wrong. Yvette would make an excellent countess. She was resourceful, clever, able to soothe with word or gesture, able to inspire with a look. She was everything he could have asked for in a wife.
He just wasn’t sure he had what it took to be a good husband.
Chapter Twenty-One
Julian Mayes returned the next day. Meredith and Fortune came with him. Though Yvette wondered why the solicitor had taken so long to bring them word from London, she could only be relieved at the sight of her friend and the sweet little cat. Lilith remained cool to the employment agency owner, but Lady Carrolton unbent sufficiently to pet Fortune, who allowed the familiarity. The countess sneezed.
After Julian and Meredith had settled, they all regrouped in the golden withdrawing room, with Marbury on duty beside the door. Lilith seated herself next to her mother on the sofa. Yvette and Meredith took chairs across from them, while Gregory stood nearby, and Julian leaned against the marble hearth. With the door safely shut, Fortune could prowl around the furniture. She still took exception to the tall brass lampstands, circling them as if watching for their treachery.
Yvette wasn’t sure what Julian and Gregory had been able to share in the only quick, private conversation they’d been afforded, but Julian glanced around at the assembled group now with a polite smile. The bruises Claude had given him at the duke’s wedding had faded, and he looked his usual confident self in his bottle green coat and tan trousers.
“I take it you are concerned about Miss French’s safety,” he said.
Lady Carrolton sniffed. “Miss French. Was that ridiculous appellation your idea, sir? I would rather have known a lady was under my roof.”
“Indeed, Mr. Mayes,” Lilith said, nose in the air. “I think it highly presumptuous of the War Office to keep my mother and me in ignorance.”
“It was for your own safety, I assure you,” Julian replied with an elegant bow.
Always so smooth, that one. With his red-gold hair and winsome smile, he accomplished what Beau Villers so often failed to do, convince his audience of his intentions. Lady Carrolton relaxed, and Lilith suffered her nose to come down.
Meredith was not so easily swayed. She leaned forward, lavender skirts brushing the carpet. “And what of Miss de Maupassant’s safety?”
“Yes, Julian,” Gregory put in, his tone considerably less pleasant. “We had an attack the other night. Miss de Maupassant was fortunate to escape with her life.”
As Meredith reached out and grasped Yvette’s hand protectively, Julian straightened away from the hearth, eyes lighting. “He was seen? Have you captured him?”
“No,” Gregory said, and Yvette could almost hear his teeth grinding.
“Not for lack of trying,” she assured the solicitor. “Men searched far and wide, and his lordship called out the hounds. My cousin escaped.”
“Your cousin?” Lilith asked. “We were told it was a Frenchman bent on revenge.” She looked accusingly at Gregory.
&nb
sp; He shifted on his feet. “Miss de Maupassant’s cousin is that man. He is the same fellow we chased at the wedding.”
Lilith started. “The pickpocket? But of course. He wasn’t a pickpocket, was he?”
Yvette shook her head.
“Well,” the countess said with a look to Yvette as if finding her of even more interest now.
“I’m sorry to hear he escaped us again,” Julian said, “But I think you will be glad to hear my news. After much discussion, the War Office believes you would be safer in London, Miss de Maupassant. I have been given leave to escort you there.”
Gregory stiffened, but Lilith nodded as she sat taller.
“Good,” she said. “We’ll be joining you in London in a few days regardless. I must be fitted for my wedding gown. Surely Mr. Villers will have told you we are engaged.”
“I regret that I have not had the opportunity to speak with Mr. Villers recently,” Julian said. “But I suppose, with Miss de Maupassant elsewhere, our quarry could care less what you do.”
Lilith regarded him as if she wasn’t sure whether that was a blessing or an insult, but his words sent a tremor through Yvette. He meant for her to be taken from the family?
Gregory was regarding him more fixedly. “What do you mean, elsewhere?”
Julian gave him a friendly nod. “You have done your duty, Carrolton, and right manfully too. Now it’s our turn.”
His eyes narrowed. “Who do you include in this group protecting her?”
Julian shook his head. “Alas, I am not at liberty to say, but rest assured they are fine examples of English gentlemen. The important thing, as I’m sure we all agree, is to keep our fair ladies safe.” He aimed his gaze at each of the ladies in turn. Yvette wasn’t the only one returning his look with malice.
“Butter sauce,” Lady Carrolton declared. “You may think yourself clever, sir, but I see through you. You’d shove my companion into a forgotten corner of London, hold her there until her enemy discovers her, then capture him with no thought to her concerns or convenience. You, sir, are no gentleman.” She thumped her cane on the floor for emphasis.
