Without Lady Frances to guide her, she slowed as she reached the top and waited for the men to catch up.
Valois reached her first. “Meet me in the library tonight.” He continued toward the elegantly carved doors and waved their party in. “Bienvenu—Welcome.”
The foyer was magnificent. The marbled floors were accented with deep blue glass that mirrored the color of Valois’s eyes. A deep rich mahogany wood staircase wound around and up to the second and third floors. Mary tilted her head all the way back to view a ceiling covered in the most beautiful garden scene. How had the painter achieved such a feat?
“Mademoiselle Mary—”
“Oh, please call me Mary. We are cousins, after all, are we not?”
“Distant. Very distant cousin, ma chérie.”
A young maid scurried to Valois’s side. “Louisa will take you and your maid to your rooms.”
“My thanks, cousin. I look forward to joining you later—”
“Yes, you all must join me for souper.”
Mary’s foot had barely touched the riser when a hand on her elbow stopped her. Without the immediate spark of heat from the contact, she knew it must not be Gilbert.
Turning, her gaze fell upon Lord Hadfield. “Do not meet with Valois alone for any reason.”
Had the warning come from Gilbert, she would have probably dismissed it in its entirety. But since it came from Lord Hadfield, she didn’t hesitate to agree, with a slight dip of her chin. Lord Hadfield released his hold on her.
Mary was accustomed to having Lady Frances caution her whenever danger lurked.
Without her guardian angel, who should she trust?
Those with whom Mary interacted within this realm often disappointed. She would have to use extreme caution.
Gilbert followed Hadfield to the north wing of the expansive estate. As they entered his luxuriously decorated chamber, he asked, “What did you say to Mary on the stairs?”
“I warned her not to meet with Valois alone.”
“Good. I didn’t care for the way the man raked his eyes over Mary earlier. Like a wolf who had spotted his next meal.”
“Interesting. I sensed something was amiss, but it wasn’t Valois’s interest in Lady Mary.” Hadfield walked the perimeter of the room, running a finger along the walls. “What I found curious was the fact that he was expecting us.”
Gilbert offered the most logical explanation he could come up with. “Perhaps the foreign secretary sent word prior to our arrival.”
“Mayhap, but there is something of Valois’ character that leaves me unsettled. I cautioned Lady Mary, but I think it might be wise if one of us is with her at all times during our visit.”
“You can’t be serious. We can’t be in Mary’s chambers at night.”
Hadfield pulled back the curtains and peered out the window. “Not we, only one of us. The other will have to keep an eye on Valois.”
“Mary’s reputation is already at risk, if not already ruined. She’s a lady! We are not at liberty to do as we please. Good gracious. Mary is the daughter of a duke, and we should treat her with due respect.”
Hadfield simply arched an eyebrow.
Tarnation, the man was right. Mary needed their protection more than their gentlemanly regard. With a sigh, Gilbert fished out his lucky coin from his breast pocket. “Heads or tails?”
“Tails.”
Placing the well-worn coin on his thumb, he flipped the coin in the air, caught it.
Again he made a wish. Please let it be heads.
As he placed the shilling upon the backside of his other hand, he slowly revealed the coin and released a deep breath. “Heads.”
Hadfield peered at the coin. “Very well. You shall be in charge of Lady Mary’s welfare for tonight.”
Mary was his responsibility. He should have married the woman and settled her in his country estate. Instead, here he was traipsing about the Continent with limited resources, with two other gentlemen panting after Mary. “Let me be clear. I promised her brother to look after her, and I will.”
“Waterford. Theo was clear. She did not mince words. I am not to return home until I see to Lady Mary’s welfare. The woman gets to decide.”
“Humph.”
Hadfield chuckled. “From the looks she gave you this eve, I’m of the opinion that my chances are better than fair.”
Gilbert walked over to the door and opened it wide. “Seek out your own chambers, and I’ll meet you later.”
As he shut the door, Gilbert began to mentally make a list of all the tasks he wished to accomplish before supper. He would start with a nice long soak in a bath, then investigate as to where Mary’s chambers were located and the best way to reach her without detection.
A scratch at the door had Gilbert swiveling toward the door. “Enter.”
A footman dragged in a hip bath followed by more footmen carrying buckets of steaming water. Lastly, a petite maid entered, her arms ladened with linens and soap. Working efficiently, the footmen poured the water and exited, leaving him alone with the maid.
Gilbert looked around for a bench or a table for the poor lass to set her items upon. When his gaze returned to the bath, the maid had laid the linen upon the floor and was kneeling before the bath with her head bowed down.
While at war, Gilbert had grown accustomed to traveling with a batman. However, both he and Hadfield had opted to travel without a valet during their time on the Continent, preferring the freedom and flexibility to change direction at any time. Gilbert had become rather adept at dressing and bathing without assistance.
Making his way to the bath, he said, “Vous pouvez partir. You may leave.”
The maid shook her head. “Non, je suis à votre commande pour répondre à vos besoins.”
The poor lass had been sent to tend to his every need. He reached down to assist the maid to her feet. “Mademoiselle, je peux me laver sans votre aide.” He could bathe himself without her assistance and said as much.
The maid rose, her voice barely above a whisper. “You prefer another?”
Gilbert was relieved to find the lass spoke English. “No.”
Eyeing his sling, she reached for the buttons of his falls.
“Thank you, but I do not need your help this evening.” He grabbed her wrists with his good hand and shook his head.
Mimicking his head shake, the maid said, “I’ve been told I must assist you. I cannot leave without performing my duties.”
“We can’t have that. Why don’t you go sit by the fire while I bathe? When I’m done, you can leave, and no one will know.”
He turned her about and gave her a gentle shove in the back toward the fireplace. He wanted to get into the water that was growing cool. It was taking an extraordinary amount of time to unbutton his clothing with one hand.
The maid appeared before him once more, and her small hand slapped his away. “The water will be cold. I’ll help you undress. Oui?”
“Oui.”
She spun him about, and it was her turn to push him in the back toward the bed.
“No, no, no.”
“Monsieur, I need you to sit so I can remove your boots.”
What a dullard. He needed to get his mind out of the gutter.
Bracing himself against the sleigh bed, the maid knelt before him and began tugging at his boot.
With the maid’s back toward the door and her slight form bobbing, he looked up as the door to his chamber opened.
A wide-eyed Mary appeared at the entrance. She gasped and began to back up.
Gilbert jumped up and ran toward the closing door. Risking his fingers, he grabbed the side of the door before it shut. Whisking it back open, he pulled a white-faced Mary inside. “What the devil are you doing here?”
“I was— I wanted to tell you—” She covered her face with her hands.
He reached out and pried her fingers away from her honey-brown eyes. “What did you need to tell me?”
The maid scurried to Mary’
s side, grabbing her wrists away from Gilbert. “Oh non. My master will be most unhappy. He must not hear of this. Let me take you back to your room.”
Mary regained her voice as she slipped out of the maid’s grasp. “I will certainly not inform my cousin.”
“Non. He plans to visit you tonight. You cannot be here with him.”
Gilbert’s fists clenched. “Over my dead body will Mary be left alone with Duc de Valois.”
The maid nodded. “Mademoiselle Seaburn, you pretend to be ill. I am going to— I will say your monthly has arrived. Oui? He will not pursue you.”
Mary blushed at the mention of her cycle, but it was a good strategy. As Gilbert nodded his approval, the brash maid pushed him aside to peek out the door. She looked from side to side, then turned and shook her head at his feet, one boot on and the other off. “Can you manage without me, monsieur?”
“Make sure you don’t leave her alone until I arrive.” There was no soaking in the tub in his future. He would have to make quick work of bathing.
“Oui, Monsieur Waterford.” The maid again grabbed Mary by the wrist and tugged her out of his room.
“Oh!”
It was apparent “Mademoiselle Seaburn” was not enthralled with the idea of being escorted back to her rooms, but Gilbert couldn’t help thinking her outrage was adorable. Pressed up against the cracked door, he peered out into the hallway and watched until they both disappeared out of sight.
“Arghh.” Gilbert winced as he removed his arm from the sling and carefully placed Mary’s skirt upon his bed. His injury slowed his progress, but he reeked of horse and sweat. He needed to get clean and update Hadfield.
Then he’d find out what was so crucial that Mary would risk coming to his room to tell him.
Chapter Nine
Mary rubbed her shoulder as the bossy little maid shoved her into her chamber. The girl had tugged and pulled her arm so hard it ached.
“Mademoiselle. Come.”
She followed the girl around to the dressing chamber, where Greene looked up. “Tsk-tsk.”
Mary narrowed her gaze at her maid. “Not a single word from you.”
“My lady, it is so unlike you to get caught. What happened?”
Sneaking about without Lady Frances to guide her was extremely challenging. She had entered Gilbert’s room like a bumbling fool. Having grown up with three brothers who had no qualms boasting about their activities during some rather formative years, Mary was fully aware of what a man and woman could engage in behind closed doors.
Cool air hit her skin as the French maid stripped her of her dress.
Greene jumped up. “Oh no, you don’t. She is my mistress.”
Thank the heavens Mary’s maid slipped a plain nightgown over her head.
The French maid approached Mary with a face brush covered in powder. “Come.”
Greene reached for the brush. “What are you doing? She is for bed, not a ball!”
Within seconds, the two were battling for control.
The feisty little French girl spat out, “My master wants your mistress. Tonight. We must make her look white.”
Greene froze. “What?”
Mary grabbed the brush and held it above her head. “What is your name?”
“Aimée.”
“How did you hear of your master’s plans?”
“Sometimes my master, he talks to himself. Mon frère is a footman. He overheard Monsieur le Duc say he would come to your room.”
“Greene, step aside and let Aimée make me look like I’m on my death bed.”
Her maid sneezed as she was surrounded by a plume of powder. Her entire body and nightgown were covered with the white substance. Each maid grabbed a hand and pulled Mary over to the large canopy bed. She crawled between the sheets and lay flat on her back.
Her mind swirled. Why would her cousin wish to seek her out in her chambers? She let out a loud sneeze. This was foolishness. There must be some misunderstanding.
Mary sat up to share her thoughts, but she found herself being pushed back down by Aimée, who tucked the sheet under Mary’s chin and said, “Stay. I will bring you your dinner.”
Aimée hopped down from the bed and turned to Greene. “Do not allow her to move. If my master comes, you go”—the French maid pointed to the adjoining chamber and pretended to stomp as she continued—“trample on the floor three times and three times again. One of us will come.”
Mary called out as the maid turned to leave, “Wait. I want to ask you a question.”
“Oui.”
“Has your master ever mentioned a Lord Burke?”
The maid screwed up her face. “Oui. Lord Burke. He comes and takes the peintures.” The girl put her thumbs and forefingers together to form a square.
“Can you arrange for a message to be delivered to Lord Waterford?”
“Oui.”
Greene frowned and turned toward the door. Mary’s maid had impeccable hearing. Seconds later, the door swung open to reveal Valois himself, elegantly dressed for dinner. With his broad shoulders and narrow waist, the man could definitely attract a woman’s attention.
He leaned casually against the doorframe. “Ma chérie, I heard you were ill and shall not be joining us for dinner.”
“Ah— Yes— I’ve— Well, it’s—”
“You do look pale. Make sure Aimée takes good care of you.” Pushing away from the door, he scanned the room before saying, “I shall see you at breakfast.”
He didn’t wait for a response but simply turned and left.
Aimée shook her head. “I do not think he believes you are ill.”
Mary smiled. After seeing her cousin’s relaxed manner, she believed there had been an enormous misunderstanding. She didn’t think he posed a threat. “My brothers taught me how to defend myself. I’m not afraid of your master should he return later this evening.”
Twisting her skirts with her hands, Aimée said, “His fortune was gone before he inherited. All traded for security during the revolution. He needs to marry a rich woman.”
Was Duc de Valois really a villain?
She needed to find out more information. Many times she had been cast aside for her peculiar behavior. She didn’t want to assume anything. Hadfield had warned her to be wary. Oh, how she wished to confer with Lady Frances. Her head began to ache.
Rubbing her temples, she peeked through half-closed eyelids to see a concerned Aimée leaning over her. “Shall I get a tray?”
Mary murmured, “Please.”
“I won’t be long.” Aimée’s worried features were gone, quickly replaced by Greene’s sweet familiar face.
“All will be well, my lady. I’ll not let anything happen to you.” Greene placed a cool hand on Mary’s forehead. “You do feel rather warm.”
“It’s because you have me under a mountain of blankets.”
Greene grabbed a handful of the covers and pulled them lower. “You have been rather quiet. No mumblings for hours.” Her maid froze and looked back at her. “Now I think of it, you haven’t been yourself for near on a day or so. What is the matter, my lady?”
“Do you find it hard to work for me with my eccentricities?”
“Oh, not at all. You are kind and generous. You never yell at my mistakes or my absentmindedness.” Greene tilted her head and reached to rearrange the covers once more. “I was worried. You seem out of sorts. Forgive me for asking.”
“Stop fidgeting with the sheets. You’re not in trouble. I was curious as to how another might view my sometimes-odd behavior.”
“My lady, you are unique, not odd. It is what makes you special, and I wouldn’t want to serve a boring lady who had no mind nor interesting thoughts.”
“Greene, you can stop with the compliments. I’m fully aware of my shortcomings.”
Greene rolled her eyes. “My lady, you are an extraordinary lady, and I believe Lord Hadfield would appreciate all you have to offer.”
“And what of Lord Waterford?”
/> Greene tapped a finger upon her lips, deep in thought. “He’s a tortoise. Slow on the uptake. Wise with a hard exterior. But soft and kind on the inside.”
Mary chuckled. Greene straightened, and her nose twitched. Her maid slowly turned to peer at the darkened entrance of the dressing chamber.
Appearing out of thin air, Gilbert stood in the door casing of the adjoining enclosed chamber. Mary’s jaw fell, but she quickly closed her mouth. She peered past the man, now striding across the room. Gilbert was of flesh and blood; he was not one of her guides who could walk through walls.
Greene moved away from the bed and curtsied.
“Where is the little French maid? I told her not to leave until I arrived.” Gilbert’s eyes scanned the room and settled upon Mary’s face. “What have you done to your mistress?”
He bent closer and sneezed. Shaking his head, he said, “Never mind. I can see she is merely covered in powder. You may leave. I shall tend to your lady.”
“Yes, my lord.” Greene scurried to the room he had just entered from.
“Tell me, are there secret servants’ entrances to all the rooms?”
Gilbert brushed his hand over her forehead and down her cheek. “It would appear so. I can’t stay long. I’m due to appear in the dining room, but I wanted to check on you first.”
More likely, he wanted to ensure she hadn’t absconded off somewhere.
Mary batted his hand away, though her traitorous body ached to seek out more of his touches. “The maid informed me that Lord Burke is a frequent visitor, and he often leaves with paintings.”
“Does he, now? How very interesting.”
Why was Gilbert still staring at her? He didn’t appear in the least surprised by the intelligence she had gained and shared. “Theo mentioned in her letter that we are to restore items to their rightful owners, but I’m questioning the assumption that they might have been stolen in the first place.”
“Hmmm—Perhaps before we hand over the paintings, we should investigate further. Do you know if Valois is aware that the paintings are in our possession?”
The bed dipped as Gilbert leaned against it. Cleanly shaven, the man had her pulse racing once more.
Visions of Lady Mary Page 6
