Deceive Not My Heart

by Shirlee Busbee

  Looking as innocent as he dared, Morgan murmured pensively, "Money, eh? You think if I repaid her, she'd go out of my life just as quickly as she entered it? Doesn't that smack of blackmail to you?"

  "Morgan, she has a child to support and her home is being taken away from her. For God's sake have a little pity. She's responsible for several other people besides herself, and the only way she could think of was to ask for her dowry back. That doesn't leave me thinking blackmail." Dominic looked away and said flatly, "If anything, it leaves me wondering about you."

  Morgan's hard-won tranquility fled and his face froze. "I only needed that!" he ground out between clenched teeth. "Thank you very much, brother! I'm surprised you even conceded to speak with me!"

  Miserably, Dominic reached out and touched Morgan's rigid shoulder. "Morgan, I'm sorry. It's just that everything is in such a tangle... and I don't know what to think.... No one does!" Searching his brother's implacable features, he said earnestly, "None of us wants to believe that you did as she said, and yet she has irrefutable proof."

  "Signatures can be forged," Morgan replied stonily.

  "Yes, that's true, but Leonie herself is not hard to believe. And when you add the two together, plus the fact that you were in New Orleans at the time she said the marriage took place...."

  "Very well, then," Morgan said stiffly. "I see that there is nothing else for me to do but to claim my wife. Good morning, Dominic."

  "What do you mean to do?" Dominic asked with a note of apprehension in his voice.

  "Do?" Morgan snarled. "Why, I am going to confess everything! If you wish to view the condemned felon's admission of guilt, I suggest you dress yourself and join the family in the breakfast room."

  "Wait!" Dominic yelped, but Morgan had already stormed out of the room.

  All of his earlier rage had come back to the surface, and knowing it would gain him nothing, Morgan fought to bring his temper under control. My God, he thought furiously, if you're going to leap on the high ropes the first time someone speaks ill of your supposed action, you're going to scuttle your own plans!

  But that unfortunate loss of control held a vital lesson, and Morgan knew it—under no circumstances was he to forget the role he had chosen to play. If he could run a rig for Napoleon's agents, he could damn sure act his way through this little farce!

  Still, he needed a few minutes to recover himself before bearding the others, and instinctively he headed out of the house. He didn't go far, just to the edge of the forest that encroached near one side of the house. Taking in a few deep breaths and staring blankly into the cool, green growth, he let the peacefulness seep into his bones and grimly forced the angry tide of injustice that swelled within him to subside.

  He was not a man who often lost control of himself or a situation, and his present predicament was at once infuriating and unnerving. Nor was he a man used to having people think ill of him, and while he had always considered himself impervious to the opinions of other people, he discovered that the pain of his family's defection went deep. And for that, little wife, you're going to pay dearly, he promised.

  With an effort he wrenched his mind away from thoughts of retribution against his lovely tormentor, and instead, concentrated on regaining some of the tranquility and light hearted confidence that had been his before his interview with Dominic. If this unpleasant facade was going to succeed, he was going to need all his wits and every bit of self-control that he possessed. No more tantrums for you, my friend.

  Smiling with wry amusement, some of his earlier pleasurable anticipation that had been his came flooding back. Think of it as a game, he told himself. Enjoy it and, for God's sake, stay unruffled! Let Leonie have the tantrums!

  Feeling in control once again, he gave the towering pine tree he was standing next to a hearty slap and then spun on his heel, and for the second time that morning, entered the house with a cheerful whistle on his lips. Reaching the door that led to the breakfast room, he hesitated, wondering if some other solution existed. No, he rather thought not—as long as he denied the marriage, the more adherents Leonie would gather to her banner, but take that weapon away from her and she was at his mercy. Jesus Christ, but I am going to enjoy watching her try to wiggle out of my trap! he decided savagely. Then taking a deep, fortifying breath, the light of battle gleaming in the dark blue eyes, he pushed open the door and sauntered into the breakfast room.

  As it was still too early for most of the inhabitants to be up, especially after last night, Morgan found only his father and Robert seated at the table. That they had been discussing him was more than obvious from the abrupt halting of the conversation that had been taking place between the other two men.

  Ignoring the sudden silence, Morgan said lightly, "Good morning! I trust you all slept well after last night's contretemps?"

  "You apparently did," Matthew replied heavily, his shadowed eyes clearly revealing that he had not slept well at all.

  Helping himself to a rasher of bacon and some scrambled eggs from the oak sideboard, Morgan murmured, "As a matter of fact I haven't slept at all. But I found that a dawn ride and a hot bath can do marvelous things for one's sagging spirits... you should try it."

  "I'm pleased you can recover so quickly!" Matthew snapped.

  "Well, I'll admit it was a facer when Leonie first showed up, but upon reflection I have decided that having a wife might be a very good thing. After all," Morgan said reasonably, "I was on the point of leg-shackling myself to Melinda, so it isn't as if I were opposed to the married state."

  Openmouthed, his father stared at him, and Robert, who had been looking confused, blurted out, "How can you tease about such a serious matter?"

  Morgan glanced at him. "My dear fellow, must marriage be a tragedy?"

  "Well, no, but that isn't what I meant! I meant—"

  Interrupting him, Morgan said dryly, "I know what you meant, Rob."

  Matthew recovered himself, and staring hard at Morgan's dark face, he asked sharply, "Does this mean what Leonie told us is true? Are you admitting that she is your wife? That you lied when you claimed you'd never seen her before?"

  "I'm admitting that she has all the proof to lay claim to the dubious title of my wife, and that if she wants to be my wife... well, then I have no objections."

  It was a very unsatisfactory answer and Matthew glared at him. Letting his breath out in a long sigh, he demanded, "Is that young woman your wife or not?"

  His face expressing only mild surprise, Morgan drawled, "I thought everyone had agreed on that."

  Matthew drew himself up angrily. One clenched fist resting on the table, he snapped, "Stop this nonsense! I have seen your child, Morgan, and I have seen the marriage papers with your signature. I believe her, but I find it difficult to credit you with the sort of reprehensible actions that must have taken place to bring about this situation. Have you nothing to say in your defense?"

  Morgan toyed idly with the spoon that rested on his saucer and, for a moment, considered once again of professing his innocence. But it would be useless, even he could see that, and remembering the role he had chosen to play, he returned lightly, "At first I really had forgotten about her... and after all these years I assumed that the marriage had been terminated. I didn't know about the child."

  "What do you mean?" Matthew questioned, his eyes fixed keenly on Morgan's face.

  Morgan had wondered what he would say when he was asked that question, but now that the moment was upon him, he found that the words came easily enough. "As I recall, it was a whim of mine... old Saint-Andre caught me at one of those times when I was ripe for anything, and before I realized it, I found myself married to the chit. It was only the morning after the wedding that I came to my senses and recognized the fact that I had been a bloody fool." Staring intently at the spoon as he continued to toy with it, and hating the lies he was spinning so effortlessly, he continued slowly, "I decided then that the quickest solution would be to divorce Leonie quietly, without any fuss, and
to go on with my life." Wryly, he added, "The thought of a child never occurred to me, and after I saw a lawyer there in New Orleans, I left instructions for him to facilitate a divorce as soon as possible. He was to notify Leonie when all the legal documents had been completed." His mouth quirking in a derisive smile, he said, "Obviously, the lawyer pocketed the gold I left with him and did nothing."

  As Morgan spoke, Robert's face began to clear, and when Morgan stopped speaking, he turned to his father eagerly. "See! I knew Morgan couldn't be an out-and-out blackguard! I told you there had to be some sort of reasonable explanation!"

  "So you did," Matthew replied, not quite as willing as Robert to accept Morgan's glib explanation. It did explain several things, but Matthew didn't like it. Divorces were not that easily obtained, especially after one had been married by a Catholic priest. There was a note in Morgan's voice that he distrusted, something about the pat recital of facts that bothered him. And yet what did he want? Morgan to continue to deny the marriage in the face of all the evidence? Aloud, Matthew asked dryly, "And the dowry? Why wasn't that repaid?"

  Morgan looked over at his father and smiled sweetly. "My lamentable memory, you know. Five years is a long time, and I'm afraid it simply just slipped my mind."

  "Quite a few things seem to have slipped your mind."

  Undaunted by the skeptical note in his father's voice, Morgan returned imperturbably, "I know, it is most vexatious, but now that I have a wife, I suppose things will improve. Women do tend to remind one of so many things... don't they?"

  Matthew regarded Morgan with unnerving penetration for several moments before inquiring expressionlessly, "And last night? Would you mind telling me why you denied ever having met Leonie? Denied all knowledge of the marriage?"

  His face the picture of innocence, Morgan admitted ruefully, "I was completely taken off guard! And quite frankly, I had put what happened in New Orleans out of my mind. I had assumed the divorce had been completed and I was a free man. It was only last night after the ball, when I began to rack my brain for some clue that would explain what had happened... that I realized who Leonie must be."

  "Did you now?" Matthew commented interestedly. "And having realized who Leonie is, what exactly do you plan to do?"

  If the situation had not been so serious, Morgan would have been enjoying himself. It was apparent his father didn't believe a word of what he had been saying but could find no other logical explanation for what had happened. A mocking glint in the dark blue eyes, Morgan answered with unwonted meekness, "I thought, perhaps, that Leonie and I could set up our household temporarily at Le Petit."

  Matthew took a sip of his coffee and gave Morgan another long, assessing stare. Reluctantly, he said, "I can see no objections, but I don't think that Leonie will consent to it."

  Morgan smiled angelically. "As my wife, she really doesn't have any choice, does she?"

  Chapter 14

  Having cleared the first and most dangerous hurdle without incident and having received Matthew's reluctant consent to use Le Petit, Morgan wasted little time. Leaving Robert and Matthew to explain the extraordinary details of his marriage, Morgan immediately set about preparing the house.

  Fortunately, he discovered that Matthew had left orders for the house to be aired and cleaned regularly, and walking slowly through the elegantly furnished rooms, Morgan smiled. His father had left nothing to chance—the house was in excellent order, needing only foodstuffs, linens, and the like to be ready for occupancy.

  Litchfield was already upstairs unpacking Morgan's clothes. Servants had been no problem as Matthew had very generously given Morgan permission to borrow indefinitely a dozen or so from Bonheur, and Morgan had unhesitatingly accepted. He had also gone around and met with Leonie's servants; Abraham, Mammy, and the others were at the moment once more unpacking their meager belongings in two of the brick cottages that Morgan had suggested they use.

  Mammy had made it clear that they were Leonie's servants and free people; but Morgan could be charming when he chose to be, and in short order Mammy had found herself agreeing happily to work for the new master. The others followed her lead and had decided that while Le Petit wasn't Chateau Saint-Andre, it would serve very well.

  It was a busy morning, but Morgan was well organized; with dozens of hands to carry out his orders, Le Petit was rapidly taking on a lived-in look. Several horses, including Tempete, now resided in the stables; Mammy and two assistants were busy in the kitchen; little black children played in front of the row of brick cottages; and from inside Le Petit came the sound of voices as the other servants moved about, putting away items as they arrived from Bonheur.

  Consequently when Leonie finally woke, she was greeted with the horrifying news that the only thing needed to make her new home complete was the presence of herself, Justin, and Yvette! It was Justin who happily broke the news to her as he at last escaped from Yvette's watchful eye and burst impatiently into his mother's room.

  "Maman! Maman! Wake up! We are to have a new house with papa! Oh, maman, do wake up!" he cried exuberantly as he jumped playfully up and down on Leonie's bed.

  Yvette had managed to keep him occupied most of the morning in their room, but Justin was an active little boy who longed to be outside exploring. At first he had been very well behaved and had been content with Yvette's explanation of how they had arrived here while he slept. He had spent a great deal of time hanging out the tall windows that overlooked the front of the house, admiring the long driveway and watching with fascination the various comings and goings.

  But that had soon palled, and Yvette had been at her wit's end trying to think of ways to amuse him when the summons to meet with his grandparents had come. She had purposely kept Justin inside the room with her, because she had been too shy and uncertain to leave its safety. Even the kindness and courtesy of the servants, who had seen to their breakfast trays and who seemed to take such a delighted interest in Justin, did nothing to alleviate her nervousness. Almost as much as Justin, she wanted Leonie to wake up; Leonie would see that everything went right in this houseful of strangers.

  The request to bring Justin to the drawing room to meet with his grandparents threw Yvette into a panic, and she almost rushed into the other room and woke Leonie herself. But gathering her composure, she set her chin at an angle she had often seen Leonie adopt, and with an outward serenity that hid all her inward trepidation, she took Justin's hand in hers and followed the servant to the drawing room.

  The ordeal wasn't as bad as she had feared. Only Matthew and Noelle were in the charming blue and gold room, and since Morgan had apparently confirmed Leonie's story neither one of his parents were inclined to treat Yvette with anything but politeness and friendliness—besides Justin had their undivided attention.

  Justin thoroughly enjoyed himself. He was the center of attention and like all children, reveled in it. Grandmother Slade gave him a sugar plum, which made him decide then and there that grandmothers were rather nice to have, and he had shrieked with uninhibited laughter when Grandfather Slade had swung him up high in the air. All in all, Justin was having a grand time.

  It was Grandfather Slade, who told Yvette and Justin about the proposed move to Le Petit, and while Yvette was surprised and just a little concerned about Leonie's reactions, Justin was hugely pleased. His slanting, golden-green eyes opening very wide, he had asked eagerly, "We are to live with my papa? We will have our own house, oui?" And ever the opportunist, he added hopefully, "And papa will buy me a pony?"

  Matthew had laughed and nodded his head. "I think something can be arranged." Seeing the child again stilled his doubts, even if Matthew didn't quite believe the story Morgan had spun out for them this morning. It was far easier to think that his son had acted irresponsibly than to think that he had deliberately deserted a young wife with a child. His actions had been crass, there was no denying it, but they had not been those of a scoundrel who had preyed upon an innocent young maid.

  Oddly enough, Noelle
had accepted the story without question. Yes, it had been reprehensible of him, it was true, but he had tried to set things right, hadn't he? It wasn't Morgan's fault that the lawyer had not done as instructed, was it? Besides it had worked out for the best, hadn't it? If the lawyer had done his work, they would never had known about Justin, and that would have been a shame, wouldn't it? "And," Noelle had finished tellingly, "I think I much prefer young Leonie to Melinda Marshall."

  Matthew had quirked an eyebrow at her. "The hysterics, were they very bad?"

  Noelle had shuddered. "Very bad, cherie!"

  Everyone seemed to be happy with the way things were turning out, even if there were some reservations on the part of a few people. Dominic, for one, flatly refused to believe the story, although he kept his opinion to himself, and Mr. Marshall, who had arrived smartly at ten o'clock this morning for the express purpose of mending the damage done last night, was another. Of course, in Mr. Marshall's case there was a great deal of self-interest—sober reflection on the wealth and power of the Slades had made Morgan seem just as desirable a partner for his daughter as he had been before that deplorable interruption at the ball. But he had become outraged when Morgan and Matthew had gravely explained Morgan's lapse of memory. It wasn't the improbability of the tale that outraged Mr. Marshall, but the fact that the heir to the Slade estates had just slipped out of his grasp.

  Nevertheless, Mr. Marshall was soon forgotten in the rush of preparing Le Petit. Justin was perhaps the most excited of them all at the prospect. Matthew had no sooner told him about it than Justin had tugged enthusiastically on Yvette's hand. "Hurry! We must tell maman!"

  Laughing at Justin's pleasurable excitement, Matthew had opened the door and said, "By all means, do go tell your maman. It should please her!"

  Nothing of course could have been farther than the truth, but the full import of Justin's happy prattle didn't immediately sink into Leonie's brain. She had been lying there in the huge, silk-draped bed wondering what the day would bring when Justin burst into the room, and for the next several moments, they were too involved in playing the special game that had been theirs since Justin had first learned to walk and crawl into Maman's bed.