Enchanting the Duke

by Patricia Grasso

“Care to find out?” The dowager cocked the pistol’s trigger. “No? How unfortunate.”

  “The late duke taught Her Grace everything he knew about pistols,” Aunt Hester piped up. “And she taught me everything she learned.”

  “Mama.” Lily ran down the stairs, nearly tripping in the process, and threw herself into Isabelle’s waiting arms. “I knew you’d come for me.”

  “Sweetheart, I’ll never let you go,” Isabelle assured her, stroking her back. “You belong with me.”

  “She belongs with me. I’ll file suit, and the magistrate will agree with me.” Lisette glared at Lily. “You little ingrate, I’m the one who gave you life.”

  Lily looked at Lisette. “Mama Belle gives me love and I love her.”

  Isabelle took Lily’s hand in hers and left the town house. Aunt Hester followed her out.

  “I apologize for intruding upon your leisure,” the dowager said, turning to leave. “Have a good evening.” At that, she walked out of the house.

  As the coach started out into the traffic, Isabelle breathed a sigh of relief. Lily leaned against her and held her hand as if she’d never let her go. Now she would need to deal with her husband. The day’s events had taken a toll on her. She didn’t have the strength to argue with him about involving his mother. And then an idea came to her that could gain her a reprieve for a few hours from her husband’s ire.

  “Lily and I will be going home with you,” Isabelle told her mother-in-law.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “I would give John an hour or two to calm himself.”

  The dowager nodded. “I understand.”

  When the coach halted in front of the dowager’s, Isabelle reached out and touched her hand. “I can never repay what you did for Lily and me today.”

  “I enjoyed intimidating that woman,” the dowager said. “Being part of a family means being able to depend on each other.”

  “We love the excitement you and Lily have given us,” Aunt Hester said, smiling. “Life was becoming a tad tedious until you arrived.”

  The dowager’s driver opened the door. Hand in hand, Isabelle and Lily followed the sisters inside.

  “Welcome home, Your Graces.” Randolph lifted a sealed missive off the silver tray and passed it to Isabelle. “A courier arrived from Montgomery House. Dobbs sent him here to look for you.”

  Opening the note, Isabelle read the unexpected message. “Delphinia says Miles has returned to England but is ill. He has been asking for me.”

  “That means Jamie should soon return,” Aunt Hester said.

  “Take my coach to visit your brother,” the dowager said. “We’ll take Lily home later and handle John.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace.”

  A short time later, Isabelle climbed the steps of Montgomery House. She looked up at the mansion’s facade. Saint-Germain Court seemed more like home to her. Was that because she’d passed her whole life at Arden Hall? Or was it because John lived at Saint-Germain court, not here?

  “Your Grace, good of you to visit,” Pebbles greeted her.

  Isabelle managed a sunny smile for her old friend. “How is Miles feeling?”

  The old majordomo stared at her in obvious bewilderment. “His Lordship hasn’t returned from America.”

  Something was amiss here. What was Delphinia plotting? Was this a new tactic to ask for extra funds?

  “Miles didn’t return today?” Isabelle asked.

  “No, Your Grace.”

  “Delphinia sent me a note saying that Miles had returned,” Isabelle said. “Is anyone with her?”

  “I believe Grimsby and deJewell are taking tea with her.”

  “I cannot trust those two,” Isabelle said. “Send a footman to fetch Constable Black and his Runners.”

  “Yes, Your Grace.” Pebbles hurried down the corridor to fetch the footmen.

  Isabelle walked up the stairs to the drawing room. She paused in the doorway and then advanced on that unholy trinity. “Miles isn’t here. Why did you send me that note?”

  Instead of answering, Delphinia rounded on Grimsby and deJewell. The three exchanged smiles.

  It was then Isabelle felt the first stirrings of fear. She turned to leave, but her stepmother stopped her.

  “You aren’t going anywhere,” Delphinia said, crossing the drawing room to close the door.

  “Sit down, Your Grace,” William Grimsby ordered. “We intend to detain you until your husband arrives.”

  “What will we do when Saint-Germain arrives?” Nicholas deJewell whined. “That wasn’t part of our plan?”

  “What plan?” Isabelle asked

  “Our plan to get what we want,” Delphinia answered.

  Isabelle narrowed her gaze on her stepmother. “And that would be what?”

  “I want revenge for my sister’s death,” William Grimsby spoke up, drawing her attention. “They want the Montgomery fortune.”

  “Your sister died miscarrying a child,” Isabelle said.

  “Saint-Germain murdered Lenore,” Grimsby insisted, unholy rage in his gaze.

  Staring at him, Isabelle realized the Earl of Ripon was beyond reason. His hatred had festered and poisoned his mind.

  “How can you gain the Montgomery fortune?” Isabelle asked her stepmother. “Miles is alive, and if something happened to John, his brothers would inherit the Saint-Germain fortune.”

  “The child you carry will inherit the Saint-Germain fortune,” Nicholas deJewell said. “As for your brother, Miles won’t live to see London again.”

  Isabelle felt as if someone had kicked her in the stomach. She fell back against the chair, but kept herself from fainting through sheer force of will.

  She needed to warn Miles and John. She needed an escape route. She needed a miracle.

  * * *

  While Isabelle was cursing her stupidity, John stood inside the foyer of Lisette Dupre’s town house. With him were Ross and Matthews.

  “Alice, fetch your mistress,” John ordered. “We have urgent business.”

  “I am here,” said a voice from the top of the stairs. “I have business with you.”

  The three men turned to see Lisette Dupre descending the stairs. When the raven-haired beauty crossed the foyer toward them, John recognized the angry glint in his former mistress’s emerald eyes.

  John held up an official-looking document. “I have the magistrate’s order granting me temporary custody of Lily. Send Alice to fetch the child.”

  “You are too late.”

  “What do you mean?” John asked, a twinge of panic shooting through him. If she’d harmed Lily . . .

  “Your wife, your mother, and your aunt abducted my daughter at gunpoint,” Lisette said, shocking all three men. “I intend to file charges and see them imprisoned.”

  John turned to the housekeeper. “Alice, you are dismissed.”

  This time the woman didn’t bother to glance at her mistress for permission. She hurried down the corridor and disappeared from sight.

  “Let’s negotiate,” John said, turning to Lisette.

  “You have nothing I want except my daughter.”

  “Oh, I think I do have a great deal of what you want.” John gave her a cold smile. “How much will it cost me to keep you from pressing charges?”

  “Ten thousand pounds.”

  “That’s highway robbery,” Ross said.

  “That is my price,” Lisette said. “Take it or leave it.”

  “Write out a document stating the terms,” John said, turning to his solicitor. “We’ll sign it immediately.

  “How much will it cost for you to give Lily to me permanently and never see her again?”

  “Lily is my only child,” Lisette said, her smile feline.

  “How much?”

  “I want a house and a monthly stipend of two thousand pounds,” Lisette said. “I want a one percent share in your companies, payable quarterly. Insurance for my old age, you know.”

  John felt the muscle in his right
cheek begin twitching as well. He glanced at his solicitor and nodded.

  Heavy silence reigned in the foyer while Matthews wrote the terms of the agreement and a promissory note. After Lisette signed the agreement, John signed both documents and handed her the promissory note.

  Following his brother and his solicitor, John turned to leave, but heard Lisette say, “Doing business with you has been my pleasure, Your Grace.”

  “Don’t squander it,” John said, pausing at the door. “You will get no more out of me.”

  Chapter 19

  Angrier than a bull, John stared out the coach’s window as they drove down Park Lane toward Saint-Germain Court.

  He didn’t mind paying Lisette to keep her out of Lily’s life, but keeping the Saint-Germain women out of prison or scandal had been unnecessary. If only Isabelle had stayed put instead of rushing off to his mother’s.

  John intended to give all three of them a stinging lecture. And then? He smiled, wondering how his mother and aunt had learned about pistols?

  “Will there be anything else, Your Grace?” Matthews was asking.

  “No.” John alighted from his coach outside Saint-Germain Court and then called to Gallagher, “Drive Mr. Matthews home.”

  John watched his coach pull into the traffic on Park Lane and then turned to his brother. “Would you care to come inside?”

  “I don’t wish to be present for this,” Ross said, his gaze sliding to the dowager’s coach parked outside Saint-Germain Court. He gave his brother a lopsided grin and started down the street, where his own coach was waiting.

  John hurried up the mansion’s front steps. The door opened before he could reach for the knocker.

  “Where are they?” John asked, marching into the foyer like an invading general.

  “The ladies are waiting in your office,” Dobbs answered.

  John took the stairs two at a time and marched down the long corridor. He burst into his office, the door crashing open with a loud bang.

  His mother and his aunt were seated in the chairs in front of his desk. His wife was missing, probably soothing Lily’s fears from having passed the better part of the day with Lisette.

  John fixed his gaze on his mother, who leveled a scathing look at him. “Your stupidity has cost me a great deal of money,” he said, crossing the chamber toward them.

  “Do not be impertinent,” the dowager said, narrowing her gaze on him.

  “Johnny, no matter how old you get,” Aunt Hester began, “showing parental respect is—”

  “Be quiet,” the dowager ordered.

  Aunt Hester clamped her lips together.

  “I’m sorry to say you are a jackass,” his mother said. “Lily Dupre is your natural daughter.”

  Her statement caught him off guard. “Mother, you cannot possibly know what I do not.”

  “Have you seen that heart-shaped birthmark on her buttocks?”

  “Yes.”

  “I carry the same mark on my posterior, as does Hester,” the dowager told him. “Don’t bother to ask to see it, for I refuse to drop my drawers for my son.”

  “That you carry the same mark as Lily is pure coincidence.”

  “Johnny, you couldn’t be more wrong,” Aunt Hester piped up. “Though I do admit that you are hardly ever—”

  “That tiny heart comes down through my Scottish side and appears every other generation on the females only.” the dowager interrupted. “Hester and I carry it on our backsides, as did our grandmother. Now Lily has inherited it. I guarantee if Isabelle delivers a girl the babe will carry one too.”

  This theory was beyond belief. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

  His mother arched a brow at him. “Would you have believed me?”

  John smiled in spite of his anger. “No, and I don’t believe you now.” The dowager opened her mouth to argue, but John cut off whatever she would have said. “Who sired Lily is unimportant at the moment. Lisette extorted ten thousand pounds, a house, and a clothing allowance to prevent her from pressing charges against you. If you will excuse me, I have several things I’d like to say to my wife.” John marched across the chamber toward the door, but his mother’s next words stopped him in his tracks.

  “Isabelle has gone to Montgomery House,” she told him. “Her brother has returned and, Delphinia’s note said that he’s quite ill.”

  “Miles has not returned,” John said. “None of my ships are scheduled to dock this week.”

  The dowager glanced at her sister and then her son. “The note said—”

  “Grimsby is plotting something.” John turned to leave.

  The dowager rose from her chair. “We will accompany you.”

  “We’ll bring our big reticules,” Aunt Hester added.

  John stared at them for a long moment. What would they do? Beat Grimsby to death with their reticules?

  “Stay with Lily until Isabelle and I return,” John said, and walked out the door.

  The two elderly aristocrats stood and walked down the corridor. Entering the drawing room, they stopped short. A shabbily-dressed old crone sat beside Lily on the settee. The two were holding hands.

  “Who are you?” the dowager asked.

  “This is Mama Belle’s guardian angel,” Lily said. “Giselle, these are my grandmother and my aunt.”

  “I can prove who I am.” Giselle disappeared as if she’d never been there, but they heard her voice. “Your lack of faith in the unseen pains my heart.”

  “Oh, dear,” Aunt Hester exclaimed, her hands flying to her chest. “I don’t know what to say.”

  Giselle reappeared and looked at the dowager. “I performed a minor miracle.”

  The dowager’s lips twitched. “I believe taking the words from Hester’s mouth is a major miracle.”

  Giselle chuckled. “Do you think Dobbs could take Lily to the kitchen for cookies?”

  “Of course.” The dowager tugged on the bell pull. When the majordomo appeared, she said, “Take Lily downstairs for cookies.”

  “Yes, Your Grace.”

  Aunt Hester stopped him. “Who is sitting on the settee?”

  Dobbs looked stunned by the question. “I see Miss Lily.”

  “Run along, Lily,” the dowager said.

  Once alone, Hester said, “Our dear Isabelle was talking to a real person whom only she could see.”

  “I love your ability to state the obvious,” Giselle said.

  “Thank you.”

  “John and Isabelle are in grave danger,” Giselle said, rising from the settee. “You must go to Montgomery House and bring your large reticules. I’ll meet you there.” And then she disappeared.

  * * *

  With her hands folded neatly in her lap, Isabelle sat in the drawing room at Montgomery House. She reached up and fingered her locket. Silently, she called to Giselle for help, but no guardian angel appeared to rescue her.

  “What if he doesn’t show?” Nicholas deJewell asked, pacing back and forth across the drawing room.

  “Saint-Germain will be here,” William Grimsby assured him, sitting in the chair near the hearth.

  “But what if—”

  “Shut up, Nicky,” Delphinia snapped.

  Nicholas deJewell clamped his lips together and continued his pacing. As he passed her chair, Isabelle laughed derisively.

  “Tell her to stop laughing at me,” deJewell whined. “She’s making me nervous.”

  “Laugh at Nicky again and you will regret it,” Delphinia threatened.

  “Who remains within the house?” Grimsby asked.

  “Pebbles and a few of the servants,” Delphinia answered.

  Where are you, Giselle? You promised to be here whenever I needed you.

  I am here, child. Help will soon arrive.

  “You are wasting your time,” Isabelle said as deJewell passed her chair again. “My husband doesn’t love me enough to come for me.”

  “Isabelle says that—”

  “For God’s sake, Nicky, she
’s lying.” Delphinia turned to Isabelle. “Lying won’t do you any good. I’ve seen the way Saint-Germain looks at you. He’ll arrive any moment, and we’ll be ready.”

  Without warning, the drawing room door crashed open, and the four of them looked in that direction. Dark and dangerous and forbidding, John Saint-Germain filled the doorway with his presence.

  “What are you doing here?” Isabelle said, rising from the chair.

  “I’m taking you home,” John said, marching into the room.

  Before anyone could stop her, Isabelle threw herself into his arms. “You shouldn’t have come.”

  Both John and Isabelle heard the distinct sound of a trigger being cocked. With pistol raised, Grimsby aimed in their direction.

  “Have you gone mad?” John said. “Lower that pistol or someone will be injured.”

  “Correct, Your Grace,” Grimsby said. “Unfortunately, you will be the injured party.”

  “He’s going to get us caught,” deJewell complained, turning to his aunt.

  “Nicky is correct,” Delphinia said. “If you shoot him in my house, we will hang at Tyburn.”

  “I don’t care about that,” Grimsby replied. “As long as I—”

  “I do care.” Delphinia cut his words off. “I want no violence done in this house.”

  “William, why do you want to murder me?” John asked, his gaze fixed on his former brother-in-law.

  “You murdered Lenore.”

  “I never—”

  “My sister died miscarrying your child,” Grimsby said. “I blame you for her untimely death.”

  Staring up at her husband, Isabelle read the anguish in his gaze. His pain was her pain.

  After a long moment, when he seemed to be struggling with himself, John spoke in a harsh whisper. “Lenore bled to death trying to rid herself of the baby.”

  “I don’t believe you,” Grimsby shouted. “Lenore would never do such a thing, and if she did, you placed her in that position.”

  “The baby wasn’t mine,” John said, shocking everyone in the chamber.

  “Lying won’t save you,” Grimsby said, aiming the pistol at him.

  Delphinia reached out and touched the earl’s arm. “I’m warning you. Do not even consider pulling that trigger in my drawing room.”