The Deception (Baron 3)

He was on her in an instant, hauling her up to an inch from his face. “Now you will shut your damned mouth and listen to me, Madame. You’re behaving like a rag-mannered witch. You must always think the worst of anything I have to say to you. If I sometimes speak to you in an overbearing way, it’s doubtless because you’ve dug in your heels and refuse to heed me, and thus you deserve it. If this is a question of pride, then your intelligence is very much in question.”

She realized he hadn’t meant any insult. He believed her too proud. He simply didn’t understand. She surprised him to his toes by burrowing her face into his shoulder, saying, her voice all muffled in the wool, “I’m sorry. Say what you will say and I won’t try to hit you again.”

He was caressing her back, holding her close, kissing her hair. “I want you to have your own money, don’t you see that? I don’t want you to feel you can’t do something that would be pleasant because your pockets are empty. It’s nothing more than that. I just want you to be happy.” He felt her shoulder muscles, taut and knotted beneath his hands. He said quietly between kisses, “There’s something else that bothers you, isn’t there? It’s just not that you feel wary of me, of yourself. What’s wrong? Let me help you. I would, you know.” He waited, knowing he was right, waiting for her to speak to him. Then, after several moments, he knew she wouldn’t say anything to him. It hurt, surprising how it hurt so badly. “It concerns your being afraid for me, isn’t it? What does that mean?” She said, “There’s nothing that troubles me, your grace. I once told you that I didn’t like London. It seems that I’m not getting along too well here. That’s all, nothing more.”

“You may leave London whenever it pleases you to do so. You have but to tell me the date you wish to return to Chesleigh.”

She was a fool, a thousand times a fool, and she knew he saw the utter dismay on her face. She’d had no further instructions from John Edgerton, nothing to tell her when she could leave. She had to see him, she had to know. She shook her head and said in a voice that sounded like it was fading into nothingness, “Yes, I’ll tell you, your grace.”

“I wish you would trust me,” he said. She remained silent. “Very well, perhaps soon you will change your mind. Now, I would like you to attend the Sandersons’ masquerade ball with me this evening.”

“But I don’t have—” She started shaking her head; there was even a smile on her face. “I see now. The blessed fifty pounds. Your mother. My pride.” She sighed. “You tried nicely to trick me, your grace. Actually, if I hadn’t wanted to strangle you, your deception would have worked marvelously well. Now I have money of my own. I want no more from you. Do you agree to that?”

“You forced me to go to great lengths. I believe I should like to see you in a crimson domino and a matching crimson mask. What do you think?”

“Crimson will look wicked. I should like it very much.”

“So shall I.”

Chapter 30

“A masquerade ball, unfortunately, gives license to certain behavior that isn’t always pleasing or circumspect. In short, it makes both men and women forget that they have a well-bred bone in their bodies and behave as if it were their last night on earth. Now, what you will do is remain close to either me or my mother.”

The carriage rocked gently back and forth on the cobbled streets. The moon shone brightly overhead, sending enough light into the carriage windows for its three occupants to see each other quite clearly enough.

Marianne Clothilde wished there was no moon. She was very close to laughter at her son’s unprecedented sermon. She merely turned her head more to the side and waited for Evangeline’s answer, which was quick to come.

“I believe, your grace, that any such harangue from you on how I should conduct myself stretches credulity. I’m not a young girl. I’m young, that’s true, but I’

ve been married. I know what to do and what not to do. I’m a grown woman, widow of the saintly departed André. I have a brain and breeding, breeding down into my bones. Now, leave me alone. Apply all that sanctimonious advice to yourself.”

A snicker escaped Marianne Clothilde. Neither of them noticed, thank heaven.

“My conduct isn’t at issue here,” the duke said, his ire rising predictably. “You’ve never been to London. This is my jungle. I am the king here. I understand all the rules, I know all the other animals’ killing habits and eating habits. You don’t understand anything at all. You will do as I bid you. I don’t want any of our friends to remark upon you with disfavor. You will behave as is becoming, and that means that you will stick close as a tick to me. You won’t leave my side. I will protect you, I will see that you don’t do anything stupid. I will prevent you from being placed in any situation that you wouldn’t understand. Such a situation might include an overeager young man, or an older man, or any age a man might attain, a possibly drunken man of any age at all, who would want to fondle you or even try to do more.”

“I should slap this overeager young man or man of any age, your grace, if he tried such a thing. Or would that embarrass you? Have you ever been an overeager young man, your grace?”

“No. I was born with finesse and grace. I was born with breeding already knit into my bones. I’ve never fondled a woman who didn’t want me to fondle her.” He looked at her, and she drew back, flushing, caught in her own tangle.

“All right,” she said, and turned her head to look out the window. “I will act a shy virgin.”

“You will perhaps try,” he said, then closed his own mouth. A shy virgin. Good God, that sounded close to horrifying.

He thought he heard a noise from his mother and said, “Are you all right?”

Marianne Clothilde cleared her throat and said, “Naturally, dearest, I’m very happy that we are nearly to Sanderson House. This has been quite one of the longest rides of my life. In truth, Evangeline, my son has experience in all manner of things. He surely meant his advice to be helpful to you, not draw your fire.”

“If you mean by that, your grace, that the duke is experienced in every wickedness known in this jungle of London, then I can see your point. Oh, dear, forgive me. I shouldn’t have said that. It’s just that he makes me want to throw him out the carriage window.”

“I wouldn’t fit,” the duke said. “You wouldn’t either, given your, er, well, you wouldn’t.”

“I know. His father made me want to hurl him about as well. Such a lovely man he was.” She sighed and closed her eyes.

“This is the longest ride of my life,” the duke said. The remainder of the trip was horse-hoof clopping and no conversation. When the carriage finally turned onto the long gravel drive that led to Sanderson House, Marianne Clothilde said brightly, “Here we all are. Ready to enjoy ourselves. You children will enjoy yourselves won’t you, and not argue any more? Now that you’ve relieved yourselves of all your mutual bile. You won’t seek to replenish it?”

“I have no bile,” the duke said. “I never had any bile at all until she came.”

“Yes, dearest. I’m always struck by the beauty of all the lights here. Isn’t it lovely, Evangeline?”