Duke of Scandal

by Adele Ashworth

  Originally, Sam had wanted the two of them to confront Edmund first, to surprise him with their unexpected presence, relaying the information they had regarding his nefarious behavior and the shocking news about his underhanded relationship with Claudette. But after a day and a half of quietly inquiring in the town, they learned nothing about him or his whereabouts. They knew he was here, but decided he had to be staying at the Govance estate, which, Olivia mused, could make their situation far more complicated if he’d become close with the family. The only way to be certain was to talk to Brigitte.

  So yesterday Olivia had sent a note, inviting Brigitte to tea at the hotel today at four. The dining room matched the ambience of the town, with its small displays of local artwork, petite handcrafted vases of freshly cut flowers on every white, Provincial-style table. She had chosen one next to the window, near the back of the room, where they could share their words in private, unsure how Brigitte would take the news that the charming, handsome man who courted her cared only for her fortune.

  Now, as Brigitte entered the establishment, Olivia stood, catching the woman’s eye immediately. She waved a hand and Brigitte smiled and began to walk toward her.

  Although now nearly twenty, the young Govance heiress hadn’t changed much in the few years since Olivia had last seen her. She had always been a rather tall, lanky child, blond with fair skin and a trace of freckles across her nose. Now she simply looked older—still thin, but she’d plaited her long hair atop her head, and her face, though never what one would call engaging or beautiful, had taken on a soft femininity that Olivia found attractive, even pretty. She no longer bounded like a child, but walked gracefully toward her in a day gown of deep lavender and wide hoops that added to her slight figure and fair coloring rather than detracting from them.

  Olivia returned the smile as the woman approached the table. “Brigitte, how good it is to see you after all these years,” she said with genuine delight.

  “I can’t believe it!” Brigitte grasped her shoulders with both hands, her lavender reticule dangling from a gloved wrist as she leaned in to drop a peck on both cheeks. “Getting your note was such a surprise.”

  Olivia gestured to the opposite chair, then sat again in her own. Immediately, their garçon brought them tea for two, as she’d ordered, and two individual plates of delicious smelling tarte aux myrtilles, placing them on the table between them, then excusing himself with a nod.

  “I’m sure it must have been a surprise, as I haven’t been to Grasse since Monsieur Nivan died,” Olivia started, wanting to get to the point before she lost the nerve. “But I do have a reason for being here today.”

  Brigitte took no time in helping herself to tea, quickly pouring hers into her delicate, gold inlaid china cup and adding two teaspoons of sugar, which she stirred with dainty fingers.

  “Oh, I expected as much,” the younger woman replied as she turned her concentration to her blueberry tart. “I gather you’ve invited me here today to discuss Edmund?”

  Olivia nearly fell off her chair. As she’d told Sam, Edmund had wanted to keep their marriage arrangements discreet. And yet Brigitte clearly knew of her acquaintance with the man, and that he was the reason for her unexpected visit to the south of France.

  Brigitte seemed to anticipate her astonishment. Her mouth turned up into a crooked grin of self-satisfaction as she met Olivia’s gaze and leaned back casually in her chair.

  “Edmund told me all about your romantic debacle,” she disclosed pleasantly. “I certainly hope you haven’t come all this way in the hopes of stealing him back from me, because frankly I don’t think he’d be interested.”

  Olivia must have been gaping at the woman, for she suddenly laughed, tossing her head back and then shaking it.

  “I see I’ve startled you with that news,” Brigitte said, cutting into her tart again, “but yes, Edmund told me all about what happened between you.”

  Olivia’s mouth had gone dry and she reached for the cream to pour a dash into her full cup of tea. Finding her voice at last, she replied, “What exactly did he tell you, Brigitte?”

  The woman shrugged as she swallowed a mouthful of blueberries. Then she placed her spoon on her plate, patted her lips with her lace napkin, and folded her hands in her lap, staring across the table with her head tipped to the side, her expression thoughtful. “He told me that he thought he was in love with you, but after you broke his heart, he realized otherwise.” Cheerfully, she added, “But all the better for me. I hope you haven’t come to Grasse thinking to win back his devotion.”

  Olivia noted that it was the second time she’d mentioned the notion of her wanting to regain Edmund’s affections, leading her to believe it might be a concern for Brigitte. But then Brigitte, as she remembered her, had always been a bit skittish.

  Recovering herself, Olivia took a sip from her china cup, finding the flavor weak by her standards but deciding that hardly mattered when her entire plan of saving the poor Govance heiress had just been tossed out the window.

  “I don’t have any intention of wooing him back,” she admitted, a bit too sternly. Then deciding it best to just get to the point, the truth, she finally asked, “What exactly did Edmund say about our relationship, about his marrying me?”

  That struck a nerve, as Brigitte’s gray-blue eyes narrowed and her lips thinned to a flat, unbecoming line. “He told me how you so callously left him days before the wedding, breaking his heart, which I’m grateful to say I’ve been able to heal with my constant devotion.”

  This totally unforeseen development positively stunned Olivia into speechlessness. She never imagined that Edmund would be so devious in not only courting an innocent lady on false pretenses, but adding to the story with outright lies to further his disgusting plan. It appeared he’d thought of everything, even the fact that his first faux wife might catch up to him by coming to Grasse to “save” the unsuspecting heiress. The only advantage she seemed to have left was the fact that Edmund couldn’t possibly ever consider that she’d bring Sam. That would be his greatest shock of all, and suddenly Olivia couldn’t wait to witness their meeting face-to-face.

  Her tea forgotten, Olivia leaned back in her chair as well, eyeing the woman speculatively. “Brigitte, you’re not going to like hearing this, but Edmund lied to you. He lied to both of us—”

  “Nonsense,” she cut in sharply with a toss of her hand. “He has no reason to lie.” Suddenly she sat forward, resting her palms on the edge of the table, the smooth lines of her face hardening, her cheeks glowing bright pink. “You may not like hearing this, Olivia, but Edmund loves me, and I don’t intend to throw him aside because you make false claims about him. He has proposed, and I have accepted, and we’re to be married in a month.” Slowly she relaxed again into her seat. “Now, if you’ve come here to win back his love, you have my blessing to try. But any devious scheme you might arrange won’t work. I can promise you that. He’s the most devoted man I’ve ever known, and he’s still quite angry at you for what you did to him.”

  Olivia felt a swell of intense anger and frustration flow through her, appeased only by her knowledge that the woman sitting across from her would soon feel the anguish she had, and didn’t deserve it, either.

  With graceful self-restraint, she asked, “Did he tell you about his brother? That he also has a sister?”

  Brigitte blinked, then frowned, seemingly taken aback by the question. “Of course.”

  Olivia wasn’t altogether certain she believed her. Her answer seemed a touch too defensive, though at this point she didn’t think Brigitte would admit it even if she had no knowledge of Edmund’s siblings.

  She leaned forward once more, her voice lowered in admonishment. “Brigitte, I… believe that Edmund is after your inheritance, everything that will be rightfully yours when your grand-père dies—”

  Brigitte abruptly stood, glaring at her, her lips contorted into a crooked smirk. “Say what you will, Olivia, but I know Edmund—have known him for m
onths. He cannot be such a great actor that he can completely fool me, and my family, with a professed love he doesn’t feel.”

  Oh, yes he can. She fisted her hands in her lap. “He did it to me.”

  Brigitte closed her eyes and shook her head. After a full inhale, she opened them again, staring down through tear-glazed eyes, her spine rigid, voice controlled.

  “You know, Olivia, I may not be as beautiful as you, as graceful or alluring, but I am ready to marry a man you chose not to marry yourself. Perhaps he doesn’t love me as he loved you, but for me that’s irrelevant. He’s devoted to me, to Govance and my family, and he will make a good husband, just as I know I’ll make him a good wife.”

  Olivia simply had no idea what to say, how to react to such determination, such blind infatuation. Brigitte was headstrong and clearly entranced by Edmund’s handsomeness, his charm, which she understood all too well. It had worked on her, and she had been utterly fooled by a devious blackguard. Would she have listened to Brigitte if he’d courted and cheated her first in Grasse, leaving her on their wedding night, then come to Paris to set his nefarious pursuits on her as the heiress of Nivan? Very likely not—because Edmund was just that good at seducing a woman with false love. For the first time, Olivia felt she’d been wrong to meet Brigitte ahead of time, though truthfully there was no way for her to know just how far Edmund had dug his talons into this innocent woman’s neck.

  “I’m sorry,” she conveyed through a sigh, reaching up to place a palm on the other woman’s arm. “I—I didn’t want to upset you. That was never my intention.” Deciding this was the moment for her ploy to be revealed, she maintained, “Of course, if Edmund is your choice, I wish you only years of happiness. Besides, my feelings for him are moot. I am married to someone else.”

  Brigitte physically slumped into her stays, her features going slack in sheer relief that she couldn’t begin to hide. “I’m sorry, too, Olivia. I’m sorry that you chose to leave him heartbroken, but because you did, he eventually found me, and I am happy.” She inhaled deeply and tried to smile. “And, because I am so sure of Edmund’s devotion, I cordially invite you to attend our engagement gathering, this Friday evening at seven, followed by our engagement ball Saturday night.”

  Olivia’s brows rose as her heart began to race. This would be the perfect opportunity for enlightenment, for all of them. “I’d be delighted,” she replied, hoping she didn’t sound too enthusiastic.

  “Friday’s affair will be small, allowing for few local acquaintances,” Brigitte carried on, the pace of her words quickening with her excitement. “Saturday’s ball will, naturally, be the event of the Season. Nearly every Govance patron and the local elite will be in attendance.” She clutched her reticule to her waist with both hands. “Grand-père has always adored you and your mother, Olivia, and I’m sure he’d want to see you again after all these years. He would never forgive me if he learned you were in Grasse and weren’t invited.”

  Olivia slowly stood to meet the younger woman’s gaze. Cautiously, she asked, “Does he know about Edmund and me?”

  “Grand-père? Non,” Brigitte answered defiantly, seemingly surprised at the question. “I have no reason to tell him, and if you do, it will only make you look selfish and spiteful.”

  That was very likely true. Olivia clasped her hands behind her back. “Then I sincerely look forward to attending both of your engagement parties.” Her voice caught in her throat. “May I, um, bring my husband?”

  Brigitte brightened considerably at the notion. “Please, of course. I’m sure Edmund would enjoy meeting him.”

  You have no idea… ”Good,” she said, smiling in return. Then, with purpose, she rubbed her jaw with her fingers, her brows furrowed in thought. “May I suggest you don’t mention my visit to him?”

  “To Edmund? He’s in Nice, making arrangements for our honeymoon, and won’t be returning until Friday. And besides,” she fairly retorted, “I wouldn’t dream of it. I wouldn’t want to upset him days before our big celebration.”

  Which, Olivia realized, meant Brigitte absolutely had doubts about her betrothed and his past. Perhaps that was for the best, as the entire sordid truth was to reveal itself at the party this weekend. And, she decided, the revelation would be better before the wedding than after.

  “I will see you Friday, then,” she said.

  Brigitte leaned in and dutifully kissed her cheeks. “On Friday, dear Olivia. And merci for the tea.”

  She turned on her heel, made ready for her departure, then paused, glancing back over her shoulder. “Why did you come to Grasse? Certainly you wouldn’t have come all the way here just to confront Edmund and me when you’ve married another man.”

  She grinned. “It was time to visit Govance, to see for myself which fragrances you’ve chosen for the season. I only heard of your engagement when my husband and I arrived.”

  That seemed to satisfy the woman. She raised her chin minutely, almost triumphantly. “It has been the talk of the town.”

  And then with a wave, she pivoted around and fairly waltzed from the dining room.

  Chapter 16

  By mutual agreement they’d decided that she alone would attend tonight’s party. After much discussion, she and Sam had come to the conclusion that it would be better for her to see Brigitte and Edmund together, in the company of others, so she could view his reaction to her arrival, could witness his relationship with Brigitte and her family, and do so in a place where she would be perfectly safe and unlikely to arouse his verbal ire. He couldn’t exactly expose her as his “former wife” or victim around the Govance family and those she knew in the business who would no doubt be in attendance. Edmund couldn’t do anything to her, or say anything revealing, and yet his reaction to her presence would be telling indeed. So they’d decided to startle him, to confuse and shock him. Tonight would be the tease; tomorrow night the full confrontation.

  She had no greater desire than to see Edmund squirm in front of his family-to-be. She yearned, more than anything, to waltz up to the man, act as if she were only there for Brigitte, and see what he’d do. The satisfaction to come was going to be enormous.

  And so, donning an evening gown of scarlet satin with short puffed sleeves and a low scooped neckline, her best ruby earrings, and curling her hair atop her head, Olivia left Sam at the hotel, promising she would go to the party, make her appearance, her excuses, and return quickly as he’d insisted, then met her hired coach at seven o’clock.

  Tonight she felt edgy, her heart thumping double-time, her nerves on end. In the three days since meeting Brigitte for tea, she’d dealt with an odd mix of emotions rumbling through her, not all of them good. She and Sam hadn’t said much to each other, had more or less kept to themselves, and it seemed his mood had darkened as well. She’d taken a day to visit the Govance boutique in the center of town, then their warehouse, learning what she could about their newest scents and expectations for the coming season and year. Sam had declined to accompany her, which she took for nothing more than a lack of interest on his part. At least she hoped that’s all it was. She had, however, found it difficult to concentrate on her business, as her mind wandered constantly to him, to facing Edmund and the coming weekend. They shared the same hotel suite but slept in separate bedchambers, and he hadn’t been much for words, she assumed, because he was doing his own planning on just how he would finally reveal himself to the brother he hadn’t seen in a decade.

  Olivia didn’t understand the animosity Sam held for Edmund, and Sam had been tight-lipped about the cause, or causes, as the case might be. She hadn’t pressed him to reveal his thoughts, but her curiosity had started to get the better of her now that they were so close to the confrontation. To that end, she could hardly wait till all was revealed.

  They hadn’t devised much of a plan of action beyond general ideas, though they agreed to continue the pretense of being a married couple, mostly because they were sharing the same hotel suite and those in Grasse who knew her
would question her decency, if not her sanity for doing so, without being properly wed. In a manner, she would be looking out for her business, and at this point in her life Nivan mattered to her more than anything else. The only thing that worried her was what would become of her reputation once they all learned the truth, which, she was afraid, would happen eventually. But she couldn’t think about that now. All that mattered tonight was facing the man who’d tried to destroy her.

  Her ride to the Govance estate went quickly, and she soon found herself alighting the brown brick steps to the high house proper, its dark beige colors, now lit up by torchlight, blending into the floral-splashed hillside and vineyards beyond. Two footmen in formal livery stood by the large, wooden front door to greet arriving guests, acknowledging her only with a nod as they opened it for her to enter.

  Olivia hadn’t been to the estate in several years, but her first thought as she stood in the entryway, now completely lamplit, brightened for the coming party, was how nothing had changed. Three stories in height, the inside, decorated in muted shades of tan, gold, and purple, complemented lavender hillsides and outdoor landscaping, as well as the bronze d’ore chandeliers, wrought-iron wall sconces, and an array of floral tapestries and area rugs scattered throughout the first-floor rooms.

  She carried only a ruby-colored reticule and her gold-inlaid ivory fan and so had nothing to leave with the butler when he led her toward the drawing room where guests would first meet for hors d’oeuvres and champagne.

  Drawing a deep breath to calm herself, she knew the moment for revelation now belonged to her, and so with great aplomb she straightened her spine, shoulders back, and walked in. Immediately, she became aware of a lull in conversation as several people, most of whom she knew, were hushed by her surprising arrival.

  Her eyes darted about the scene for her first look at the man whom she’d once thought to be her husband. She soon grew disappointed, though, to note he wasn’t yet among the crowd. Neither was Brigitte, which left her to mingle with family and acquaintances, the majority of whom worked in the perfume industry for the House of Govance, until the two guests of honor made their respective appearances.