Gabrielle felt pity at the tired look in her aunt’s face. “I’m sure he thinks he is doing the best for all concerned. After all, it will only be for six months—”
“But Charles could turn his father against me in six months,” Aunt Louise cried bitterly, her fingers tightening around the handle of her teacup.
Gabrielle gazed with surprise at the desperation in her aunt’s face. “But surely you and Alexandre love each other too much to let the time of waiting come between you,” she said, hoping to comfort her.
“I’m not getting younger, Gabrielle, and Charles is his father’s only son.”
Gabrielle looked with renewed concern at the distraught woman. “I think you are making entirely too much of this. In the next six months, perhaps Charles will gain a better understanding of his father’s feelings toward you.”
“No, he hates me. He looks on me as the usurper of his mother’s position.”
Gabrielle could find no more words, as her aunt seemed bent on believing that Charles would somehow find a way to destroy all her plans. She would have liked to speak to Aunt Louise about her strange experience of the night before but felt that she would hardly be an ideal listener under the circumstances. Who could she confide in, then? Alexandre? No, he too was probably under emotional strain. Charles was the least likely candidate. There was no one except for Isabel, and telling her somehow would make the whole thing seem foolish. No, she would not tell anyone. After all, the man had not hurt her. Perhaps, as she had thought before, he was merely a servant come to open the house for his returning master.
January and February flew by. Gabrielle seldom saw Charles, although he was living at home now. He took his meals out or with his father, and Gabrielle was too unsure of her own position to protest the arrangement. She noticed her aunt’s increasing anxiety and the despair that was written on her face.
March brought a surprisingly early spring, and most of the flowers in the garden had begun to bloom by the end of the month. Gabrielle watched her aunt and sensed that she was still unhappy. True, Alexandre still seemed considerate towards her on the occasions when Gabrielle saw them together, but those occasions seemed to be fewer and fewer. Gabrielle finally had to face the unpleasant suspicion that her first assumption—that Alexandre was too worldly a man for her aunt—was, perhaps, the truest picture of the situation. Surely, if a man loved a woman as much as Aunt Louise believed herself loved by Alexandre, he would not allow anyone to come between them. But then, Gabrielle could never remember hearing Alexandre actually telling her aunt that he loved her. True, he was attentive and kind to her, but that did not ensure a person’s love. It was clear that Gabrielle would have to take Isabel’s advice and speak to Charles herself, no matter how galling the experience might be.
Well, she would humble herself enough to request an audience with Charles. And what more perfect time than the following day, when Alexandre had promised to escort her aunt to a picnic given by Napoleon in the country in order to introduce his new Austrian empress to the court. Charles would not be attending as he had other matters to occupy his time in the Austrian Consulate. Determined to see the thing through before she lost her nerve, Gabrielle penned a brief note to Charles requesting that he see her the following afternoon and gave the note to Chloe to hand to his personal valet.
The next day, Gabrielle dressed with special care, wearing a pale pink gown of watered silk, and had Chloe dress her hair most becomingly. She would be seventeen in two weeks, she reminded herself, a woman grown, as Isabel had remarked. Certainly she would be able to break through Charles’ icy exterior if she tried hard enough.
Anticipated excitement caused the color to bloom in her cheeks and her eyes to sparkle provocatively. At precisely two o’clock, she went into the garden where she expected Charles to join her shortly. It never occurred to her that he would refuse to speak with her, would actually be rude enough not to send her a note of apology.
She was brimming with humiliated rage by the time she heard his carriage in the drive a little after three o’clock, and she waited until she heard his booted foot-steps on the stairs before entering the house from the garden. Her anger blinding her to caution, she stormed up the stairs to his room and knocked sharply on the door.
“Yes, ma’m’selle.” The valet looked at her with smug insolence, as though at any moment he would slam the door in her face.
“I wish to speak to M’sieur Charles,” Gabrielle got out, and before the surprised valet could realize what she was doing, she pushed the door open and stepped inside.
Charles, clad in shirtsleeves and breeches, his boots still dusty, looked up from where he was standing by the armoire.
“M’sieur Charles is on his way out,” sputtered Jean, casting a sheepish glance at his employer.
“He will talk to me first. Please leave us.” Gabrielle stood tense in the middle of the room, unaware of the becoming blush in her cheeks and the incredible deepening of her eyes. Her breasts rose and fell with her increasing fury, and she thought she would scream at the valet if he didn’t leave the room.
“You may go, Jean. I’ll call when I need you.” Charles sat down calmly in a chair, crossing his booted calves and gazing with speculative interest at the truly beautiful spectacle Gabrielle afforded him. As before, he did not ask her to sit.
“Well, Gabrielle, it seems you are determined to speak with me, no matter that we have nothing to say to one another.”
Taking a deep breath to control her rage, Gabrielle walked to the window, taking a position directly opposite her opponent. “I have come to discuss the way you have been treating my aunt and me,” she began, her eyes on his face.
“I have no idea why,” he responded, tapping his fingers against the arm of the chair with an air of boredom.
“You know perfectly well that your discourtesy towards us both has caused us to feel like strangers here—”
“A fact that does not displease me in the least,” he answered disdainfully. “In all honesty, I hope you and your aunt will see fit to vacate these premises for good.”
“Your father, himself, told me that I could consider this place my home for as long as I wish,” Gabrielle reminded him, her breath catching a little in her throat. “Where would we go, m’sieur? For, as you must know, your father persuaded my aunt to sell the house my father left to me.”
“I believe there are convents that would welcome two new novices,” he replied, watching her agitation increase.
Gabrielle pressed her hands together, her eyes surveying the room in distraction. The interview was not going at all as she had hoped. “But why—how can you be so— so unfeeling?” she questioned. “I have never harmed you, nor has my aunt. She only wishes to marry your father out of love. She—”
“Enough of love, ma’m’selle.” Charles rose abruptly from his chair and came closer to her. “You women are so adept at spouting the praises of an emotion that cannot exist in the world today. I think you confuse love with lust, Gabrielle, the feeling a man has for a woman who can excite his senses but leaves his mind untouched.” Before she could utter a word in protest, Gabrielle felt his arms catch her roughly against him, and his mouth was kissing hers, forcing her lips open as he increased the pressure of his arms until she felt crushed like a rag doll. She could not fight against him for she was imprisoned too tightly, and he was bending her backwards as easily as he would a sapling. Forcing his mouth away, she saw his eyes like cold steel, looking into hers, and she shivered at the harshness of his laughter.
“This is lust, Gabrielle, the feeling that causes me to bruise your fragrant body even as I bestow the age-old symbol of love on your lips. Lust is the emotion that makes me desire to spread your sweet, white thighs and bury myself in you.”
Gabrielle felt as though she would faint, and she knew for certain that she would fall if he took his arms from around her. In another moment, his mouth had swooped down on hers once more, invading her mouth with his tongue. His hands had move
d from her arms to her neck, and she felt them caressing her skin. A shudder passed through her body.
With a tremendous effort, she tore her mouth from his and cried out at him to let her go. His immediate compliance startled her so that she had to clasp the frame of the window ledge in order to prevent herself from falling.
“How—how dare—” she began breathlessly, seeking to regain her composure.
“I’ve taught you a lesson, Gabrielle. You see, I’m afraid that your feminine wiles and smiling promises are lost on me, my dear, for, as most women I’ve known will assure me, I have no heart; only a brain that can ferret out their lying thoughts and the words that cover their true purposes. I suppose, in your extreme vanity, you thought you could win me over to your thinking if you bestowed a few of your favors on me, if you allowed me a discreet kiss or two, perhaps, even risking a more indecent caress, all in the name of your aunt, of course.”
His mockery made the blood boil in her veins again, and she returned his gaze with a lofty pride as she drew herself up while adjusting her gown. “You are mistaken if you think I would stoop so low. You are correct in your assumption that what I do I am doing for my aunt’s sake; but even for her I would never welcome your disgusting hands touching me as you did. Nor do your lips give me any pleasure, let me assure you. I think, perhaps, you would do better to look for your pleasures in the gutters of the beggars’ quarter, m’sieur.”
His laugh grated on her nerves, and she flinched involuntarily as his hand caught her arm. “You deceive yourself, Gabrielle, if you think I was trying to give you pleasure. But let us drop the whole subject. I must get ready for my engagement this evening, and you have only succeeded in wasting my time.”
He turned away from her, dismissing her abruptly. Completely crushed, Gabrielle walked to the door, realizing that she had only put her aunt and herself into a more tenuous position by irritating their antagonist even more than before.
By the time her aunt and Alexandre had returned from their outing, Gabrielle had calmed herself sufficiently to greet them without revealing her inner turmoil.
“Alexandre, I should like to speak with you,” she said, hoping her voice sounded casual enough.
“Certainly, my dear. Come to my study.”
“Alexandre,” she began, after taking the proffered seat in front of his desk, “I’m afraid that I have some rather unpleasant news to tell you.”
She watched as Alexandre lowered his hands carefully on the desk, really looking at her, an unspoken question in his eyes. Gabrielle went on to relate the event that had taken place in Charles’ room, admitting that she had been foolish to go there, but declaring that her desperation had driven her to try anything. She omitted the hateful kiss, but finished by saying that Charles had told her he would be only too glad for them to leave.
She paused for breath, watching his reaction closely for any clue to his inner thoughts. But he gave none, only nodding for her to go on.
She continued, “In short, I have decided to put the question directly to you, Alexandre. Do you want us to leave? I don’t think that you realize what a toll this pressure has taken on my aunt’s health, and perhaps everyone’s purpose would be served better if we took up residence elsewhere, at least until Charles has rejoined his regiment.”
Almost absently, Alexandre agreed, his eyes still on her face. Gabrielle felt the first cold fear begin in the pit of her stomach as she saw his facial lines tighten perceptibly.
“But where do you propose to take up residence, Gabrielle? Where will you obtain the money?”
The coldness in her stomach rose up and threatened to stifle her voice, but she replied, “From the money my father left me as well as the money left from the sale of his houses.”
Alexandre stood up and took several turns about the room, his brow furrowed in thought. Finally, he came to stand in front of Gabrielle, his face downcast. She swallowed hard, but met his gaze steadfastly.
“Gabrielle, you have put me in a very embarrassing situation, I’m afraid. You have no money,” he ended.
“What—what do you mean?” she asked him incredulously.
“I’m not as rich as you might think,” he began. “Oh, yes, I keep up this house and all appearances in front of my peers, but to do this I use means that may or may not be considered totally lawful under the circumstances.” He sat on the desk in front of her, as if struggling to make a decision. “Gabrielle, first I must tell you that I am extremely fond both of you and of your aunt, and I want you to believe that my intentions were not to hurt Louise if I could possibly avoid doing so. I’m afraid I shall have to be somewhat brutal with you, my dear; but the simple truth is, I offered my patronage only on the condition that you and your aunt turn over all your capital to me.”
“But no one asked my permission!” Gabrielle cried, aghast and amazed at this flagrant violation of her personal rights.
“You are not of age, of course, and so your aunt signed the necessary documents as your legal guardian.”
“But there wasn’t enough money in what she brought to you to pay for your style of living all these months,” Gabrielle objected, feeling as though she were grasping at straws.
“There was enough to finance a certain project I had in mind, Gabrielle—enough to get me started in a profitable, a highly profitable business. But I needed the capital right away, and at that time my credit was not good enough to borrow it.”
“You mean you were virtually penniless?” Gabrielle cried in disbelief, gazing around the room as if to assure herself of its rich appointments.
He smiled indulgently. “Not completely. I had the stipend I receive from the government as well as the inheritance my father left me, an inheritance sadly dwindled through the price of Charles’ commission in the army.”
Gabrielle stood up slowly, hardly believing what he had just been telling her. “You mean,” she demanded breathlessly, “that this was all a little scheme of yours—a trick to find a means of obtaining the money you needed? I suppose my aunt was just the one you required—alone and not very smart in the worldly ways of a gentleman like yourself!”
Alexandre reached over to pat her shoulder, but Gabrielle drew away, not ready to be comforted. '
“Calm yourself, my dear. You have a roof over your head, don’t you? And a promising position in society. Despite the evil thoughts you have about me at this moment, I swear that I have every intention of paying you back your money with interest. The documents are all held safely by my banker, as your aunt can most certainly assure you.”
“But,” and now Gabrielle was aware of the desperation in her voice, “you don’t realize how Charles—how he hates our being here. He resents our presence and more and more I feel like a servant in this house. I cannot continue living like this; nor can my aunt, who, unhappily, thinks she is in love with you.”
She was gratified to see the embarrassed flush come to his face. “I deeply regret toying so flagrantly with your aunt’s tenderer emotions, Gabrielle, but Charles has made me see the folly of marrying her. If I marry, I must marry a woman who can bring money into the family.”
“And hasn’t my aunt already done so?” Gabrielle questioned, her voice vibrant with emotion.
Alexandre would not look at her. “I have told you that I will pay you back your money as soon as it is possible to do so. Believe me when I say I do not particularly enjoy taking advantage of two helpless females.”
Gabrielle gazed at him from beneath lowered lashes. “But tell me then, Alexandre, what business it is that drives you to such despicable paths? Are you engaged in something that does not smell so rosy as its profits do, were the case taken to the courts?” She watched with satisfaction as a new wariness came into his face.
He searched her expression for a long time, then silently sat down in a chair opposite her, beckoning her to do the same. “I have decided to be honest with you, Gabrielle, not only because I cannot help but admire your courage, but also because I feel it is th
e only gentlemanly thing left for me to do under the circumstances.”
Gabrielle seated herself and clasped her hands together, waiting for him to speak. He looked directly at her as he began, and she listened with considerable interest to what he had to say.
“The business I am involved in, Gabrielle, is smuggling. Yes, I can see from your face exactly what you are thinking—a treasonous offense against Napoleon’s embargo. I am well aware of the danger in such a business venture, but I could not resist the prospect of profit. You see, my dear, I suppose I am somewhat of a gambler. A close associate of mine told me that he would put up half of the initial expenditure if I would supply the other part The money from your father’s will and the sale of the houses in Paris and the country provided my share. All that was needed was to find a ship with a captain willing to take the risks involved. My associate succeeded in finding one, an American, who seems more a privateer than a legitimate businessman. We decided to rent the house next door in order to serve as our offices and a place to store goods.”
Gabrielle stared at him, interrupting pointedly. “I remember seeing someone in the house the night of Isabel’s ball. That’s it, isn’t it? He’s your American captain. He was there that night in the house.”
Alexandre bowed his head. “I did not see the necessity of informing you of the truth when you came to live here. I had hoped, in fact, to be able to repay the money quickly and settle your account without undue fuss. But then, naturally, I had not imagined that Charles’ animosity for you and Louise would require me to become involved in this damnably messy explanation.”
Gabrielle found that she had relaxed suddenly, as though by simply trusting her enough to tell her the truth, Alexandre had once more gained her confidence. He seemed to sense her calmed emotions.
“I apologize once again, Gabrielle, for the way I so wantonly used your inheritance, but I must stress I will pay you back as soon as this last business venture is finished. I cannot go on with it any longer.”
Gabrielle Page 5
