‘Finally, a tangible fragment of my true history.’ Smiling, Jean-Luc ran his hand over the copperplate writing. ‘It doesn’t change who I am, I see that now. You were right about that, I am, exactly as you said, the man I have always been. But knowing where I have come from makes a huge difference to my future.’
‘I know.’ She covered his hand with hers. ‘I understand.’
‘No.’ He closed the register and turned to her. There was a light in his eyes that seemed to contradict what she was sure he was about to tell her. ‘You don’t understand at all, Sophia. You are thinking that you were right yesterday, when you told me that you could not be part of that future, are you not?’
‘You are the Duc de Montendre.’
‘I am also Jean-Luc. The man who loves you more than all the stars in the heavens.’
‘You can’t. It’s impossible.’
‘I can. And with you by my side, anything is possible.’ He shook his head when she made to speak. ‘I know what you think, ma belle, and I understand why you think it, but you’re wrong. You put forward your case yesterday, let me put mine now, but not here in this sacred place. Let us go somewhere more appropriate, where we can talk freely.’
* * *
Bordeaux’s public garden was a ten-minute walk away. Bordered by town houses, it was a pleasant, open space, consisting of parterres bounded by paths, and a small boating pond where two little boys were sailing their toy yachts.
They sat down together on a wooden bench in a shady, secluded spot. ‘First of all,’ Jean-Luc said, ‘I want to assure you that I speak from the heart, but also from the head. I have thought long and hard about all the terrible things you told me yesterday, and I do not dismiss any of them lightly. But I want to try to show you that your thinking is muddled.’
‘You won’t ever persuade me that I’m worthy of you. I wish that I could wipe the slate clean, but I can’t.’
He took her hand, his fingers twining tightly around hers. ‘If we are to talk of worthiness, it is I who am not worthy of you. As for the past, we both know, in our own ways, that it cannot be undone. I hate what you have been forced to endure. If I could have spared you a second of suffering at the hands of that vile cabal of men, your father, your fiancé, and that other abomination of a man, then I would, but I cannot. We can’t alter the past, Sophia but we can make a much better, brighter future together.’
Her heart was an agony of longing, but her resolve was made of sterner stuff. ‘I would not make you happy, Jean-Luc. My past would haunt you.’
‘No, it haunts you, not me. It is time to lay the ghosts to rest.’ He let go of her hand to pull off his hat, mopping the sweat from his brow. ‘You think that you will be judged for your actions. Perhaps so, by those who do not know you or those who are eager to judge others rather than themselves, but why should you care what such people think? I do not give a damn about them.’
‘You do business with at least one of them.’
His lip curled. ‘Not any more. I had a subsequent meeting with that man not worthy to be called a gentleman, and made it very clear that my wine will not be sullied by residing in his cellars. I have also made it clear,’ he added, his hand curling into a fist, ‘that he will be well advised not to mention your name or his recent encounter with you to anyone. Ever.’
‘But how can you prevent him?’
‘You need not concern yourself with the particulars. Content yourself with the knowledge that I have considerably more influence in high places than he. Something else which he now understands.’ He unfurled his fist, flexing his fingers. ‘En effet, he is gone from your life for ever.’
Ruthless, Sophia thought, was the perfect word to describe Jean-Luc at this moment. His cool eyes, his satisfied smile, his utter assuredness. It was a side of him she had not seen before. What had he said to Hopkins? She could not imagine, but she could easily imagine Hopkins’s reaction. He liked to think of himself as all-powerful. She would have liked to have witnessed that encounter. It was wrong of her, but she found this iron-fisted side of Jean-Luc more than a little alluring.
‘He is not a man who reacts well to being bested,’ she said, making no attempt to hide her pleasure.
Jean-Luc shrugged. ‘We have wasted enough time on him. Let us concern ourselves with the future.’ He gathered her hands between his again. ‘Our future.’
Oh, but it was so tempting to be swayed by his certainty. When he looked at her like that, it was easy to believe that love shone in his eyes. ‘We have no future,’ Sophia said, the words sounding strangled as she forced herself to utter them. ‘Even if you are indifferent to the gossip, the fact that I will be shunned by society, and you too by association...’
He laughed at that, shaking his head. ‘You think yourself so worldly, but you are such an innocent in many ways. For a start, this is France, not England. We have been through a Revolution, Sophia. The ancien régime is dead.’
‘You forget that you are now a member of the ruling class.’
‘Yes, one who intends to create a new order. Not only do you overestimate the impact of what you view as your fall from grace, you underestimate my influence. The guests who attended our soirée adored you, Sophia. Did you not feel welcomed into the heart of Paris society?’
‘Of course, but they didn’t know the truth.’
He shook his head. ‘And they will remain in blissful ignorance, unless you feel obliged to wear your shame like a—a badge of dishonour. Can’t you see, Sophia, this is all in your head? It is time you realised you have nothing to be ashamed of.’
‘Nothing!’
‘Absolutely nothing. At every step in your life, you have put others first, even that domineering fool of a father of yours. Your love for your sister was pure and deep and utterly unselfish. You sacrificed yourself for her, and you did all you could to ensure that she never knew the cost.’ His hands tightened around hers. ‘It makes me want to weep, thinking of your suffering, but when I think of your reasons, my heart swells with pride. How can you talk of dishonouring me by becoming my wife, when it is I who would be privileged and honoured to call myself your husband?’
A lump rose in her throat. ‘That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.’
‘It is what anyone would say, who really knew you. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met, but your inner beauty shines even more brightly than this ravishing exterior. I love you.’
She could no longer doubt it. For a moment she allowed herself to bask in his love, but only for a moment. ‘Unfortunately, it doesn’t alter the facts. You are the Duc de Montendre, for goodness sake.’
‘Yes, I’ve thought of that too. If I decided not to claim the title, I wondered, would Sophia be more likely to marry me?’
‘No!’
‘That is what I concluded. You see, I know you almost better than you know yourself, and you understand me too, in a way that no-one else does. You understand that I owe it to my heritage to restore the lands and to restore the livelihoods of those who lost them during the Terror.’
‘You wish to make the Montendre name great again?’
He laughed. ‘I’ll settle for making Château Montendre wine the finest in France. I can’t do any of those things until I claim the lands, and to do that, I must claim the title. I’ve set Monsieur Fallon on the case, and asked him to do all he can to expedite the hearing. He seems to think that by presenting me as a philanthropic duke, the courts will be sympathetic.’
‘And will you like being a duke?’
‘Only if you will be my duchess.’
‘Juliette expects to be your duchess, Jean-Luc. In fact, she has a legal right to be.’
‘I wondered how long it would take you to bring her into it.’ Once again, he released her, frowning down at his hands. ‘From the very first, I have been determined not to marry her. It has been the one constant
, through these last tumultuous months. At first, it was because I thought she was a charlatan, but from the moment you walked into my life, I could not help comparing my faux wife with the woman who, it now turns out, was the wife my family arranged for me.’
He angled himself towards her again. ‘I do not take any account of that. I am prepared to sacrifice a great deal to restore my family heritage, but I won’t sacrifice my happiness. I don’t love Juliette de Cressy, I love you, Sophia, and I know in my heart that I will never, ever love another woman in the same way. No matter what happens, I’m not marrying Juliette de Cressy.’
‘But what about the contract? You gave her your word of honour that you would tell her the truth, and the truth is that you are the Duc de Montendre.’
‘I will do as I promised. It has always sat ill with you to lie to her, I know. To be honest, it has of late sat very ill with me too. She is desperate, as you said. You see in her parallels with your own situation.’
‘She has no other resources. She has been bred to make a good marriage and is equipped to do nothing else.’
‘If you had not had to support your sister, would you have agreed to marry this Frederick person?’
‘No, but I am more resilient than Juliette.’
‘Because experience has forced you to be. It has made you the woman you are. The woman I love with all my heart, and the only woman I want to marry, which is what I intend to tell Mademoiselle de Cressy when I see her. I will tell her the unvarnished truth, that we deceived her, that we are not married, but I will make it clear I don’t give a fig for her claim. It changes nothing.’
‘What if she threatens legal action?’
‘I will inform her that I am prepared to fight it all the way to the highest court in the land. She can then either accept a generous settlement from me made in good faith, or decline it, but I will make no offer for her hand and that is the end of the matter, tu comprends?’
Sophia was beginning to understand, and she was beginning to hope. In fact, she was finding it very difficult now, to rein in her hopes. Had she been nurturing her shame? She had most certainly been allowing others to judge her, or to imagine that they would. Did she care? Yes, she did, though for Jean-Luc’s sake much more than herself. ‘I may sympathise with Juliette’s predicament, but I confess I find the prospect of you marrying her distressing,’ she conceded.
His smile was tender. Her defences were crumbling rapidly. ‘Which brings me to the most important point. After all you have suffered and all the sacrifices you have made, you deserve to be happy, my love. If I can make you happy then I will spend the rest of my life doing so. But if I can’t, if what you want is your freedom, then I will let you go, for the same reason that I dare to hope you have been so determined to let me go, because I love you, Sophia.’
She could not restrain herself any longer. ‘And I love you Jean-Luc, more than I can ever put into words.’
He caught her to him, wrapping his arms tightly around her. ‘My beautiful Sophia, you will try to put it into words, yes?’
She beamed. ‘I will, and there’s no time like the present. I love you, Jean-Luc.’
‘I know how much your freedom means to you,’ he said fervently. ‘I want you to share every aspect of my life, but I don’t want to smother you. I want you to feel free to live as you choose.’
‘What I choose is to want to live by your side. I know you would never smother me. I know you. I trust you.’
‘I want you to accept the fee you have earned from our contract...’
‘I can’t take that.’
‘It is yours, Sophia, you have earned it. Stash it away somewhere, use it as you see fit, but have the security of knowing it is there.’
‘Thank you, that means a great deal to me.’
‘It is nothing compared to what you deserve.’ He let her go, only to drop to his knee in front of her, her hand in his. ‘I do not deserve you, Sophia, but I dare to ask you all the same if you will make me the happiest man on earth. Be my duchess and my wife.’
Her heart was making a very determined attempt to leap out of her breast. She thought she might burst with happiness. Was the sun shining brighter above them? It felt as if it was. ‘You could not be happier than I, mon amour. Yes,’ Sophia said, kissing his hand fervently. ‘Yes, please.’
He gave a shout of joy, leaping to his feet and pulling her into his arms, and kissing her. And kissing her. And kissing her. Until they were both breathing raggedly.
‘You told me once that public parks were designed expressly for the purpose of kissing, but I don’t think you meant this kind of kissing,’ Sophia said.
‘You are quite right.’ His smile was wicked. ‘This kind of kissing requires some privacy.’
‘Should we return to our hotel? Then, I can not only tell you how much I love you, but show you.’
He shook his head. ‘An excellent plan but I think we can improve on the location.’
* * *
The light was fading when they reached Château Montendre, having postponed the drive until the worst heat of the day had subsided. Jean-Luc led her to a terrace built between the two protective arms of the towers, with a prospect overlooking the slopes of the vineyards. The tent was pitched on the old cobblestones, secured to the façade of the building. ‘How on earth did you manage to organise this?’ Sophia said, eyeing the billowing canvas in astonishment.
‘As I said, Monsieur Fallon is a man who can pull many strings. And I am a man in love,’ Jean-Luc said, pulling her to him for a long, tender kiss. ‘We have to return to Paris tomorrow, but I wanted us to have this special night here first. It marks the beginning of our new life together.’
‘Home is where the heart is, you said.’
‘Which means that my home is wherever you are, my love. Though I hope that we can be happy here.’
Sophia looked around her in wonder. The sky was turning from azure to indigo, the stars tiny pinpoints of light high above. The air was humid after the heat of the day, heady with the scent of the verdant green all around them. The dusky light masked the worst effects of the destructive fire, turning the overgrown gardens into a magical wilderness, giving her a breathtaking glimpse of how beautiful Château Montendre would be, restored to its former glory. ‘I could be happy anywhere with you,’ she said, ‘but here—it feels like home, don’t you think?’
‘I do,’ Jean-Luc said, ‘but the time for thinking is over.’
He swept her up into his arms, shouldering aside the layers of gauze which formed the doorway of the tent to set her down inside. A table was set for two, silverware glinting, crystal glasses gleaming, candelabra ready to be lit. Red wine had already been decanted. Champagne was cooling on ice. An array of covered salvers were set out on a long, low table. ‘You have gone to an enormous amount of effort to arrange all this. Did it ever occur to you that I might turn you down?’ Sophia asked.
‘I could not allow myself to imagine such a disaster. You could have told me that you didn’t love me, you see, and you never did. I clung to that and hoped. And prayed. And now my prayers have been answered. Would you like to eat now? I have ordered...’
‘Jean-Luc, for once, I’m not remotely interested in food. What I’d like...’ She could feel herself blushing, but she was determined to do as he bid her, and put her past behind her. ‘What I’d like more than anything,’ Sophia said, twining her arms around his neck, ‘is for us to make love. I have promised to be your duchess, and I can’t wait to be your wife, but what I want above all is to be your lover.’
She kissed him then, letting her lips and her tongue show him what was in her heart, and when he returned her kiss, the last tiny shreds of doubt disappeared. He loved her. Gazing into his eyes, she saw her love reflected there, and knew that he thought only of her. Both their pasts had been settled, laid to rest. There was now only a glittering future to look forwa
rd to. Though first, there was the small matter of the here and now to be savoured.
She kissed him again, murmuring over and over, in the space between kisses, that she loved him, she loved him, she loved him, and her kisses were returned, tenderly, lovingly, and then ardently. There was a bed, discreetly set behind a veil of curtains at the rear of the tent. This time there was no need to rush as they shed their clothing item by item, kissing every inch of skin revealed, sinking on to the piles of soft blankets, lost in a haze of passion and love.
Jean-Luc’s mouth was on her breasts, her nipples. The sweet, dragging ache of desire began building inside her as he kissed his way down her belly, then the top of her thighs, untying her garters, kissing the back of her knee, her calf, her ankle, as he removed her stockings. He set her on fire with his kisses, making her writhe and moan under him, until his mouth claimed that most intimate kiss of all, and she cried out in astonishment and delight.
Honey, she thought, as his tongue licked over her sex, her veins felt as if they were sweet with honey, fizzing like an icy cold champagne. She had never experienced such sensations, longing for surrender but desperate not to give in, for she wanted this to go on for ever. These kisses took her to a place she had never been before, where passion soared to new heights, where she floated, like a billowing cloud, until somehow, the sensation changed, deepened, and she was rushing mindlessly, desperately, towards completion.
She cried out her pleasure when her climax came, unrestrained, wanting to unleash the same passion in Jean-Luc. She tugged at his shoulders, arching herself shamelessly against him. His eyes met hers, drugged and dazed with desire. And then he thrust into her, and she was lost again, clinging, thrusting with him, in a wild, feral rhythm that was not hers or his but theirs. Harder, faster, deeper, he drove until he cried out too, and she held him fast as he spilled inside her, and finally Sophia knew what it felt like for two people to truly be as one.
From Courtesan to Convenient Wife Page 21
