Etienne shook his head. “You’re an extremely cynical man, cousin. ”
“As are you, mon fils. ” With great difficulty he managed to swing his legs over the side of the small cot. For a moment the world swirled about him most unpleasantly, and then it came back into focus. “I believe I hear a commotion outside. I expect it’s Reading, back from his errands of mercy. Direct your man to assist him. ”
“I have no ‘man,’ cousin. Just an elderly widow who helps me in the surgery, and I’m not about to have her wait on a spoiled aristocrat. ”
Francis smiled his most angelic smile. “You’d be very happy to be a spoiled aristocrat yourself, Etienne, admit it. This man-of-the-people air you affect is simply because of circumstance, not preference. And you’ll have to get rid of the woman. I think Miss Harriman might tend to be the jealous, possessive sort, and she wouldn’t want you in close quarters with a comely widow. And don’t try to pretend she’s not comely, Etienne. I know your tastes too well. ”
“If the woman you desire is the jealous, possessive sort then why are you interested? Those are qualities that have proved anathema to you in the past. ”
Rohan was struck. “You know, you are quite right. I have no idea why I am so intent on debauching a young woman who will give me nothing but trouble. But then, I’ve never spent overmuch time examining my motives. I want her. That’s enough. ” He looked up as Reading was ushered into the room, indeed by a buxom young woman who could only be Etienne’s “elderly” widow. “Have you come to rescue me, dear boy? There’s only so much of Etienne’s disapproval that I can bear. ”
“The carriage awaits. The food and wood have been delivered, with furniture and rugs and bedding to follow. Are you certain you want to bother? You can dress a pig up in satin and lace and it’s still a pig. ”
Author: Anne Stuart
Francis smiled hazily. It had been a long day. In fact, a long pair of days, though he usually survived sleepless nights quite well. “Are you calling my intended a pig, Charles?”
Charles raised a dark eyebrow. “Intended what, Francis? You surely can’t be having respectable inclinations toward this girl. The bullet hit your arm, not your head. ”
“No such thing, my boy. I’m too old to change. ” He turned to look at his sullen cousin. “Etienne, do you have more of that lovely laudanum? I think I’ll need medicinal assistance for the ride back to Maison de Giverney. ”
He wasn’t so far gone that he missed the pinched expression Etienne always wore at the mention of the Paris mansion that should have been his. “You’ve had enough. ”
“But if you give me more I might accidentally take too much and die. And then where would you be?” he said sweetly.
“It will take but a moment. ”
The moment he left the room Rohan turned to Charles. “The two women will be removed from the sty as soon as it’s feasible. These things must be handled delicately, with finesse, and I’ve never been a clumsy man. Give me your arm. This place smells of cabbage and death. The sooner I return to my own bed the happier I shall be. ”
“Your cousin has gone to get you more laudanum. ”
“I merely got tired of his sour face. He can send it later. Perhaps we ought to send someone to cheer him up. Marianne, for instance. ” He rose to his stocking feet, unsteadily. “Get me out of here, for mercy’s sake. I have evil plans to hatch. Are you with me?”
“Every step of the way,” Reading said, taking his arm. “We’re going to hell, you know. ”
“That was ascertained many years ago, Charles. Thank God. ”
“Thank God,” Charles echoed heartily.
But even in his drugged state Rohan could hear the faint thread of doubt in his friend’s voice as they headed out into the snowy evening.
8
As far as days went, this one was looking as miserable as the day before. Once Rohan had left, Elinor had waited only long enough to make certain her mother and sister had no need of her, and then she set off to find the lawyer, Mr. Mitchum. Her proud departure yesterday had been put in perspective. There was no room for pride when Lydia was at stake, no room for pride when the Prince of Darkness had set his sights on her sister. Elinor had been a fool to walk out without seeking an appointment with her father’s heir, but the disappointment had been too deep. Without a generous inheritance they were doomed.
She never would have thought she’d be so impulsive. In the last six years she’d considered herself calm, practical, thoughtful. Now in one rash moment of temper she might have put her sister and her small, motley family in danger, and her self-contempt knew no limits.
Mr. Mitchum was no help at all. At least the new Baron Tolliver hadn’t left France, but for the moment he was out of town, visiting friends in the country. There was no telling when he’d return, or even if he’d still be willing to see his poor female relation at that point. Perhaps if Miss Harriman were to return in a week’s time an appointment might be arranged?
They might be lost in a week’s time, Elinor thought grimly, scurrying through the wintry streets of Paris. The snow was falling, swirling down in pretty patterns, and at another time she might have appreciated it. Not on this bitterly cold evening. Once she’d left the lawyer she’d walked for hours, more of her fruitless quest for employment. In this area of Paris people could barely find enough to survive—no one had the money or the interest in learning the fine art of playing the pianoforte or stitching a perfect seam. Particularly since no one could afford to own a pianoforte, and needlework was kept for more practical applications. Just as well, because her needlework was appalling and it had been years since anyone had been forced to listen to her on the pianoforte.
She pulled the shawl around her more tightly. Her own cloak that she’d left behind at the château was warmer than the flimsy wool. Rohan had brought the stolen fur-lined cloak, but Elinor had enough sense not to wear it into the streets. Chances were it would have been ripped away from her in a matter of minutes. One did not display items of such worth in a desperate neighborhood such as this.
And indeed, she’d left Lydia wrapped in it, warm and comfortable in the icy house, so it served its purpose. She just had to hope Lydia didn’t have an attack of guilt and cover their mother with it. Lady Caroline was beyond knowing if she was hot or cold, and she’d thrown everything away. She didn’t deserve the one bit of comfort in their barren home, Elinor thought with fierce bitterness.
Tomorrow she would sell the cloak. Tonight they were going to have to break up the furniture in order to keep from freezing, and she wasn’t sure where to start. Her mother’s bed would be the obvious choice. The rest of them were already sleeping on the floor. But if Lady Caroline had a pallet on the floor there’d be no way to restrain her, and that was even more dangerous than freezing to death.
It would have to be the chairs or the table, and she couldn’t decide which was more necessary. They were young enough and agile enough to sit comfortably on the floor, though Nanny and Jacobs had a much harder time of it. Nanny Maude had frequently napped as she sat beside Lady Caroline on the bed, her back against one of the posts, but that could hardly serve as her main mode of sitting.