by Clee, Adele
With his breathing slow and measured, Delmont turned to Sebastian, grimacing as he gave a weak smile. “The next time … you invite me to … to one of your gatherings,” he said, wincing as he held his arm across his abdomen, “remind me to decline.”
Sebastian bit back a chuckle. “I believe you invited yourself,” he replied, surprised that Delmont was still able to deliver one of his witty quips with his face so badly beaten. “I need to call at the Thames office to fetch a constable and a doctor to look at your injuries.”
“The only thing injured,” Delmont panted, “is my pride … and perhaps a rib or two.” He glanced towards Morgan. “You could have warned me … I’d be up against a champion boxer. The man was an animal.”
“An animal with a heart, apparently. He saved Madame Labelle’s life.”
Delmont gestured towards the comte’s listless body. “I take it Dampierre shot him. But who killed Dampierre?”
“I did,” Sebastian replied without hesitation. He did not know Delmont well enough to trust him with the truth. “I did not think it necessary to involve the ladies, so I sent them home.”
Delmont’s eyes scanned the floor and settled on the blood-stained handle of the knife. He examined Sebastian’s clean hands and coat and offered a dubious frown. “I understand you do not wish to embroil your wife in a scandal. But how will you explain …” Delmont paused and put a hand to his ribs, “how will you explain our presence here?”
Sebastian raised a brow and with a sly grin said, “Well, that’s where you come in. I thought we could say that Dampierre kidnapped you with the intention of —”
“Kidnapped me!” Delmont cried. “Kidnapped … I shall never be able to show my face in my club again.” Delmont shook his head. “Can you not think of some other reason, something more heroic?”
“There was nothing heroic about the way you escorted my wife out into the mews and left her alone to deal with Dampierre,” Sebastian growled, reminding Delmont he had still not forgiven him entirely for the part he had played.
“I understand that,” Delmont sighed, “but … but to say I was kidnapped.” He thought for a moment. “Could you not say that Dampierre discovered me helping this Madame Labelle? Perhaps she was running away and I had met her here to pay for her passage to … well, you could think of somewhere.”
Sebastian considered the request. If Madame Labelle went abroad for a while, it would add credence to their story while ensuring she did not confess to the crime out of a sense of guilt. He could send her to France, to stay with Marcus Danbury, just for a month or two.
“Very well,” Sebastian agreed. “You were helping a poor woman flee the country and paid for her fare to France. I came along to assist and we were both held against our will. Dampierre will have gunpowder on his hands, so we’ll say an argument broke out when we offered Morgan a substantial sum of money to help us. Morgan stabbed Dampierre, who swung around and shot him. It’s best if you say you can’t remember much. One look at your face and no one will dare argue.”
“And I suffered these injuries while protecting a lady,” Delmont added. “I’ve always wanted to play the hero. When word gets around, the ladies will be hanging from my arms like fruit bats.”
Chapter 29
Marie had not spoken a single word during the carriage ride from Wapping to Marylebone.
Before they entered Labelles, Sophie gave Marie her gloves to wear and draped the blue cloak around her blood-stained dress, so as not to draw undue attention. Luckily, the patrons had either retired to the privacy of the upstairs rooms or were too engrossed in their activities to pass comment.
It had been Sophie who had packed Marie’s things, choosing a couple of dresses and undergarments, just enough for a few days away. The only item Marie picked up was a small leather bible, which she clutched to her chest instead of packing it with the rest of her things. When they were about to leave, Marie paused and rushed back up the stairs to her bedchamber. She returned a few minutes later, carrying a square wooden box.
“Do you have everything you need?” Sophie asked, wondering what was in the box. With her gaunt face and empty expression, Marie appeared fragile and lost and not at all like the confident, composed woman she had met in Leicester Square.
“Yes.” Marie nodded. “But the girls … what will happen to them?”
“Lord Danesfield will take care of it,” Sophie reassured her. Dane took care of everything. He was the most solid, most dependable man she had ever known and she had been foolish to ever think otherwise.
Marie was just as quiet on the journey to Red Lion Square and upon their return had asked to go to her room. Sophie had no such luck as James insisted on hearing every horrifying detail and a whole hour passed before Sophie was able to go and check on her.
She met Amy on the stairs, carrying a bundle of clothing. “What would you like me to do with her dress, miss?” Amy asked, glancing down at the blood-stained garment.
“Burn it,” she replied. ‘But you must never mention it to anyone.” Sophie took a few more steps and then turned and asked, “Did she say anything to you?”
“No, miss. She’s not said a word. She just lay in the bath, staring up at the ceiling.”
Sophie offered a weak smile, thanked the maid and continued up the stairs, deciding to change out of her masquerade gown before calling in on Marie.
Having changed into her breeches and shirt, as they were the first thing to hand, Sophie tapped on Marie’s door and waited for a response before entering. Even though the hour was late, Marie was not in bed. She was curled up in a chair in front of the fire, wearing a plain linen nightgown. The room was far too warm, but she got the feeling Marie’s shivers had nothing to do with the cold. Even so, she picked up a blanket from the end of the bed and draped it around her friend’s shoulders. Moving the chair from the dressing table, Sophie placed it in front of the fire and sat down.
“How are you feeling?” Sophie asked even though she knew it was a stupid question.
Marie stared into the flames. “I thought I would feel relieved, happy,” she said softly, still clutching the bible in her hand. “But murder … it is just one more sin to add to a list of many.”
“It was not murder, Marie. You were defending yourself,” Sophie corrected. “He would have killed you. He would have killed us all.”
Marie looked down at the bible and stroked the cover. “My father would not have seen it that way,” she sighed. “One day, I will answer for it. I will answer for it all.”
Sophie shook her head. “You’re wrong,” she insisted. “You saved my life and Annabel’s, too.”
Marie shrugged. “Perhaps.”
They remained silent for a few minutes as Sophie followed Marie’s vacant gaze to stare at the flames and became lost in her own tumultuous thoughts.
This would be the last night she would spend under Dane’s roof. She’d spent the last six years being angry with him. How would she survive the next six years feeling nothing but love for him? In truth, she would never fully recover from their separation; she would always feel a little less than whole, always feel empty and incomplete.
As though sensing the reason for Sophie’s disquiet, Marie asked, “Will you return to your village now that the matter is concluded, now Victor is … is dead?”
Sophie looked up and met Marie’s gaze. “I have nowhere else to go,” she replied with some amusement.
“But surely your marquess will offer for you.”
Sophie snorted. “Under the circumstances, he probably believes he should marry me. But it is not the same as wanting to. Besides, he needs to marry someone a little more refined and a little less headstrong.”
“Call me naive,” Marie countered, “but you have not mentioned love. If he loves you, surely that is more important than anything.”
Sophie stood, walked over to the hearth and poked the fire. She could not even bear to consider the thought that Dane had feelings for her in that regard. It would
only make walking away all the more difficult, all the more painful.
“Love plays no part in the marriages of the nobility,” Sophie replied, stabbing at the coals as though they were to blame for all things considered unfair. “You have seen the proof with your own eyes.”
They were interrupted by a knock on the door and Sophie opened it to find Dane waiting outside. Her heart skipped a beat.
“You’re back,” she exclaimed, stepping out into the hall and closing the door gently behind her. “What happened?” she whispered.
Dane scanned her casual attire with interest and pulled her into his arms, where he proceeded to kiss her with a desperate urgency.
Panting, Sophie broke away first. “You cannot kiss me like that with my brother in the house,” she protested weakly. “What if he should see us?”
Dane’s hands settled on her waist, gripping the loose fabric to pull her closer to his warm body. “I do not care who sees us,” he whispered in her ear. “I want to feel your naked body next to mine.”
Please, she begged silently. Please do not say any more.
“I want to us to be together, Sophie, always. I want us to —”
“We cannot talk about it now,” she replied softly so as not to cause alarm, but she needed to change the subject and quickly before the tears began to fall. “I fear Marie is not herself and needs our help.”
Dane dropped his hands and stepped back. “Forgive me,” he replied, shaking his head. “I am being insensitive.” He nodded towards the closed door. “About Marie, I have an idea. Let us go and see if she approves.”
Dane began by relating the story he’d told the constable and the magistrate. He also told them of his plan for Marie to leave the country for a month or two. “You should have seen Delmont,” he mused. “The man should be on the stage. There is not a person in the whole of London who would dare question his version of events.” He smiled at Sophie. “Indeed, it is a shame I had not known him sooner, for there has been many a situation where I could have done with a man with his talents.”
“So they believed this story of yours?” Marie asked, still somewhat apprehensive.
“The magistrate had no choice. Delmont raved on about how disgraceful it was that two peers could be assaulted in such a fashion and demanded to know what was going to be done about it. Besides, the fact that the magistrate still appeared somewhat at odds, having been roused from his bed at such a ridiculous hour, helped matters.”
“But if they believed your story, then Marie can return to Labelles,” Sophie asked.
Dane pursed his lips and shook his head. “I’m afraid you can never go back there, Marie. Dampierre must have been working with someone else, someone abroad who brokers his deals. I’m sure once his partner hears of his death he will come to stake claim to his business.”
“But Marie has a claim to the business,” Sophie said. “Surely she should not be —”
“Lord Danesfield is right,” Marie interrupted, raising her hand by way of an apology. “I do not own anything and have no claim to make. Victor did have a contact abroad. I have heard him mention a man, heard tales of his cunning, of his cruelty.” She placed a hand on Sophie’s arm. “I will go to France and stay with Mr. Danbury until it is safe for me to return.”
“Danbury is a good fellow, a little rough around the edges, but he is more than capable of handling the situation,” Dane said convincingly. As though guessing Sophie’s next question, he added, “Haines will accompany you. He knows Danbury and will see you settled before returning home.”
Marie gave a weak smile. “Thank you,” she said. “I will not forget your kindness, but I must ask, what will happen to my girls?”
Sophie turned to stare at Dane. “You will do something for them, won’t you?”
Dane smiled at her and the warmth in his eyes warmed her to her core. “Of course, I will see to it that they are provided for and given an opportunity to improve their status, should they so wish.” He patted Marie’s arm and added, “I will write to you and keep you updated on their progress.”
Marie stepped forward took his hand and kissed it. “Thank you, my lord.”
Sophie could not have loved him any more than she did at that moment. Her heart was bursting, her body inflamed.
“I shall leave you to get ready while I write two letters to Danbury. I shall send one immediately and give you another, should there be any problem.” He took Sophie to one side and whispered, “We must leave in ten minutes. I shall see them safely to Dover and return as quickly as I can. I have spoken to James and he is happy to wait here until my return.”
This was going to be the last time she would be with him like this, Sophie realised. She could not stay and wait for him to return. She could not hear his offer marriage, as she did not have the strength to decline. She was too weak when it came to her feelings for him and she would crumble as soon as the words left his mouth.
“Take care,” she said, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tight. When her lips began to tremble, she relaxed her arms and kissed him softly on the mouth.
“I am only going to Dover,” he said with a chuckle as they stepped apart.
I love you, she whispered silently. I shall always love you.
“I know,” she shrugged. “I had best go and help Marie.”
Sophie breathed deeply when she heard the door close and distracted herself by helping Marie dress. When she was ready to go, Marie took Sophie by the hand and sat her down on the edge of the bed.
“Once, you asked me why I had not run away from Victor,” Marie began, “and I implied I had nowhere to go. Well, that was not entirely true.” She picked up the wooden box she’d taken from Labelles and placed it in Sophie’s lap. “Here, I would like you to take this, for the time being. Until I have use of it.”
Sophie met her gaze. “What is it?”
“Open it,” Marie urged.
Sophie opened the box. Inside she found a long, black iron key, a large quantity of folded notes and a diamond brooch.
“The brooch was left to me by a great aunt,” Marie began. “Other than my bible, it is all I have that connects me to my other life, the life I had before Victor.” She reached down into the box and removed the key. “This represents a dream,” she continued, twirling it between her fingers. “A foolish dream I thought would never come to fruition. It is the key to a small cottage, a cottage I bought without Victor’s knowledge. It is in the village of Marlow, just outside High Wycombe, a beautiful village where I spent many happy years. I could not go there while Victor was alive, for he would know exactly where to find me.”
“But you could go there now, you could live your dream,” Sophie replied eagerly.
Marie smiled. “And I will, when I return. But in the meantime, I would like you to take care of it for me. Only if you want to.”
Sophie did not know what to say.
Marie handed Sophie the key. Then she fastened the brooch to the inside of her dress and began counting out the notes. “I prayed for the day when I would be free from Victor,” she said. Separating the notes into two piles, she folded the larger pile and thrust it down the front of her dress, before handing the other pile to Sophie.
“I cannot take this,” Sophie objected.
“You will,” Marie said firmly, putting the notes into Sophie’s hand and covering it with her own. “You have given me back my life and now I must make amends for all the wrongs I have done.”
Sophie jumped up and hugged Marie. She was so grateful to have somewhere to go, somewhere where she would not have to suffer the pain of seeing Dane. Even if it was just for a few months. It would suffice, just while she decided what she was going to do.
“I want you to have a choice,” Marie said. “The marquess is a good man, but you have to be true to yourself. If you decide to go to Marlow, you will find Hope Cottage on the lane to the right of the church.” She kissed Sophie on the cheek, picked up her bag and then walked to the door.
“I will not come down as I could not bear to wave goodbye,” Sophie said. “Please tell Lord Danesfield I was tired and have gone to bed.”
“Very well,” Marie nodded.
“And promise me you will not say a word about the cottage.”
Marie hesitated and then said, “I promise.”
Chapter 30
At the sound of a gentle rap on the study door, Sebastian lifted his head off the desk, the hard surface being a most unsuitable place to sleep, brushed his hands through his hair and bid the caller to enter.
Dudley Spencer poked his head around the door and asked in his usual amused tone, “Is it safe to come in?” The response Sebastian gave was nothing more than a grunt and Dudley stepped into the room and closed the door. “I thought Haines was exaggerating when he said all you do all day is growl and grumble.” Dudley drew a chair up to the desk and sat down. “It seems we can add grunting to your newfound repartee. As you’ve come back to town, I take it you have still not found your wife.”
Sebastian stared at him intently. “You know very well she is not my wife. Yet you still insist on tormenting me,” he replied, his bitter tone reflecting his mood.
Dudley inclined his head. “I must admit I am not used to seeing you so out of sorts. I find I rather like it. It makes me feel vastly superior, knowing you have made such a mess of everything.”
“What do you want?” Sebastian barked, which was a polite way of saying leave me the hell alone.
Dudley raised a brow as his mouth curved into a sardonic grin. “I merely came to update you on the progress of our new finishing school.”
“It is not a finishing school,” Sebastian corrected. He sat back in the chair and folded his arms across his chest. “And if you think I am writing another letter to Marie to relay any more good news about the social advancement of her girls, you can think again.”
Indeed, the woman had refused to offer any insight into Sophie’s whereabouts. A whole month had passed since he’d returned home from Dover to discover that Sophie had already left for Marchampton.
