The Deception (Baron 3)

“I’m a cousin. Relatives are a different matter entirely.”

She couldn’t know his reputation or she wouldn’t be so flippant about the matter. But the fact remained that she was destitute. Where would she go? No, there was no choice. She had to remain here. He would try to prevent anyone knowing why she was here. The fact that she was related to him by marriage only made it worse. She didn’t realize that a simple unknown employee would be perfectly safe because, frankly, that simple unknown employee would have no reputation to protect. He would leave her in ignorance.

“Doubtless you are right, Madame. You also forgot to mention your advanced years.”

“No, I told you I was a mature woman. Maturity means advanced years.”

“I’ve always hated the word. So does my beautiful mother.”

Not a full minute passed before Mrs. Raleigh came to the library, her lustrous purple bombazine skirts rustling with every light fairy step she took. She was very small, beautiful white hair piled atop her head, framing an unaged face. She wore a thick key ring about her narrow waist. It was highly polished key ring, o

ne that the duke’s mother had given her some years before.

“Mrs. Raleigh,” the duke said, smiling down at her. On a good day when she was wearing slippers with heels, she came to his shoulder. This day he could easily fit her under his arm. “This is Madame de la Valette, my cousin. Actually, she was her ladyship’s cousin. She’s come to pay us a visit, to meet Lord Edmund. Perhaps, if I can convince her to remain, she will become Lord Edmund’s nanny. Unfortunately, all but one of Madame’s valises were lost in a Channel storm. Her traveling companion became very ill and insisted on returning to France. Thus we have her to ourselves for a time.”

Evangeline wanted to applaud his tale. It was generous and fluent and well done of him. “Mrs. Raleigh,” she said, and nodded to the small woman with the large key ring. Mrs. Raleigh gave her a graceful curtsy. “Ah, you’re another tall one, just like his grace’s mama. We are glad you are here, Madame. Such a treat this will be for Lord Edmund. If you will come with me to your bedchamber. Do you wish to dine at six o’clock, your grace?”

“Yes, Mrs. Raleigh. Do tell Mrs. Dent that she has a new convert, one who will doubtless eat every dish that’s placed in front of her, one who will likely kill the butcher if he displeases her.”

“Mrs. Dent will be pleased. I will also tell her that Madame is too slight and needs to gain flesh. It will become a mission for her.”

“Why not show Madame to the duchess’s bedchamber? Perhaps it will comfort her to be in her cousin’s room.”

Mrs. Raleigh said to her, “We keep the bedchamber spanking clean, but no one has stayed in it since her grace left us over two years ago. Oh, dear, such a sad time. I hope it will please and comfort you, Madame.” “It is bound to do something,” she said, nodded to the duke, and followed the very youthful Mrs. Raleigh from the library.

The duke heard Mrs. Raleigh say in her high musical voice, “How terrible for you, Madame, to lose not only your luggage but your maid as well. Just look at all the buttons on that gown. It’s a miracle you managed to get them all fastened yourself. I will send Dorrie to assist you. If you find her helpful, she can assist you for your stay here at Chesleigh Castle.”

Just an hour ago he’d been alone. Now he had a cousin staying with him. A young cousin who, if he wasn’t mistaken, and he wasn’t ever mistaken when it came to anything doing with a female, had beautiful breasts.

Life was unaccountable. He leaned down to pick up the crumbled letter from Drew Halsey. He locked it in the top drawer of his desk.

He walked to the fireplace and gazed down thoughtfully into the glowing embers. He remembered now the thirteen-year-old girl, tall for her age, taller than her older cousin Marissa, who’d reached her full growth. He vaguely recalled thinking her oddly mature for her years, her thin shoulders proudly set, and her dark brown eyes wide and serious when they rested upon his face. Seven years later, her eyes held an appeal that as her kinsman he couldn’t dismiss.

“What,” he said to the huge silent room, “have I gotten myself into now?”

Chapter 6

“Your grace.”

The duke came to a halt at the foot of the massive, wide staircase. “Oh, Bassick, don’t concern yourself. It isn’t your fault that I refused to listen to you. Thank you for seeing to the comfort of my cousin.”

Bassick stepped closer and lowered his voice to a whisper. “It was no bother, your grace. She seems a very nice young lady. She will be remaining with us for a while?”

“Therein lies a question. I will tell you when the matter is decided.”

“Oh, yes, your grace. I finally pried out of Juniper that a note from Lord Pettigrew had arrived for you. Was it bad news, your grace?”

“Yes, the worst. The traitor remains unmasked. Drew doesn’t want me to involve myself, but I am now. Robbie won’t go unavenged. I vowed it to his wife. Damnation, he left two twin boys, not much older than Lord Edmund.” He stood there, nearly shaking with impotent rage. Finally, he got hold of himself. “Sorry, Bassick. Now, I understand that Madame de la Valette arrived in the blacksmith’s gig.”

Bassick nodded. “She didn’t see me do it, but I paid the smithy. He expected it, the good Lord knew that, but she didn’t. A young lady traveling alone, it fairly curled my toes. And she’s obviously a lady. One can look at her for the barest instant and know that.”

“Yes,” the duke said. “My toes curled as well at how she got here. But she’s safe now, here with us.” He nodded to Bassick and began to climb the stairs. He turned abruptly, laughing. “As you rightly surmised, she arrived with no funds. Actually, there’s no reason not to tell you, since she tells me that she would like to become Lord Edmund’s nanny. Nothing’s decided yet. What do you think?” “It makes my hair white to think of it, your grace.” “Your hair is already white, Bassick.” “I will contrive to think of another utterance that is more appropriate to the situation, your grace. I can only say now that I hope she is firm of spirit. Actually, I hope that she has a will of iron.”

“We will find out.” The duke grunted and headed upstairs, his destination his son’s nursery.

When the duke reached the landing, he turned into the east-wing corridor. He knew servants were about, but he couldn’t hear anything. He walked slowly past the scores of portraits that covered the walls of the interminable corridor. Corridor, that was a jest. It was a good ten feet wide, that corridor. What a rabbit warren of a house, he thought as he walked the fifty more feet to the nursery suite. As his hand turned the knob, he paused, listening to his son’s laughter. It never mattered what kind of a mood he was in. When he heard Edmund laugh, he smiled.

He was barely through the door when Edmund dashed a straight line to him and leaped. The duke, used to this, caught him handily, holding him high in front of him, then bringing him down and hugging the sturdy little body against his chest.