Brandywine: Regency historical romance (The Brocade Series, Book 1) (32 page)

“Gillian, I can’t possibly wear this.” She snapped the lid
shut and handed it back.

“Why not? I bought it just for you.”

“Because it’ll require more strength than I possess to stand upright
in it. I’ll fall forward.”

“Do turn around, love. Let’s try it on and see, shall we?
Such a fuss, when all I want to do is show the world my deep and abiding affection.”

“You aren’t trying to buy your way into my bed, are you?” 

She couldn’t meet his eyes. His laughter didn’t help.

“As if I need to. Oh, Helene. That’s almost a challenge.
And I’m almost of a mind to accept it. If we had time.”

She supposed he had every reason for such self-confidence,
and the necklace felt as if it would choke her,
but she wouldn’t say another word. Not one.

“Perhaps you could puff out your chest or something, darling? You look quite lost in your new finery.”

She studied herself in the mirror and decided she looked ridiculous in the necklace. It didn’t make sense. She thought the gold dress magical, and now she looked like a pampered pooch!

“Now don’t lose it, love.”

“Lose it? I’m in more danger of a kidnapping. Oh, Gillian.
I thought you had taste.”

“I do, darling, but sometimes it’s a bit difficult to spot. Your
wrap?”

Oh,
yes,
she thought,
let’s not forget to wrap her in expensive fur, too.

She didn’t know what he was up to, but she felt like a Christmas present and if she wasn’t so exhausted, she’d do something more about it than argue. Then again, that could be his plan.

The Countess of Tilbury lived openly with a gentleman most
mothers would warn their daughters to stay away from.
Helene clung to Gil’s arm during the introductions.

Prince Serge Lubetski from Rumania looked her up and down like that Sir
Runyon fellow had that first night, and the small man’s eyes lingered on her necklace most of all. The countess held to the prince’s arm,
but she had nothing to fear from Helene. The white-haired woman
was welcome to him.

“Gillian, Darling! I’m so glad you came. Of course, this is
your darling wife, Helen. You know her, don’t you, Darling? Sir
Bingham’s daughter, and looking so like him it’s impossible not to
see the resemblance.”

“Helene,” Gil corrected, and Helene wanted to box his
ear.

The woman was as false as they came, and it would’ve been a pleasure to fool her, but no, Gillian had to spoil it. Of course,
the willowy woman was probably an old flame of his, and he’d feel
protective of her, anyway.
She wondered why that thought hurt so much. If they had been lovers, it was past. The countess had eyes only for her prince.

“
Helene? But of course! You remember, Serge? We met
Helen Bingham and her new husband, Chaffin, in Monte Carlo,
didn’t we? Charming couple they are, but so secretive.
”

The prince said something in Rumanian, making the
countess look distraught.

“Oh, dear. I’d forgotten. Such a scene it was, too, with the
earl challenging that man.”

“What man?”  Gil’s arm tightened under Helene’s
fingers, but his voice was still nonchalant and uninterested.

“Why, the one who shot Chaffin, of course. He was a
rough-looking, man. Large. Not at all what you’d expect Helen
Bingham to flirt with, let alone...well, you know. I forget his name…”

The prince whispered in her ear again.

“Oh yes.
Gaston. That was it! Gaston.”

Oh, God!
Helene shoved a fist into her mouth to stop her
cry. But something leaked out. This was insane. Somewhere it made
sense why Helen took her brute from the
sanatorium on her honeymoon to Monte Carlo, and then used him to eliminate her new husband. But it was
beyond Helene’s comprehension at the moment. Everything went gray as if fog rose about her. And it was filled with dancing black dots.

“You know the man?”

The countess’ eyes seemed strangely
kind as she asked it.

“Gillian?”

The floor was rising, but he caught
her, lifted her, and then swung them into the midst of waltzing couples, so effectively that the countess and her prince were the only ones who noticed.

“Helene! Love! Don’t leave me now! I need
you, darling. Sweeting. Helene…”

He kept whispering, holding her as he moved to the
music. She knew he was unusually gifted, musically. He was proving it. Couples swirled past them, b
ut Gillian moved more slowly, swaying to
the tune, as he kept whispering a litany of words to her. The dots disappeared. The fog dissipated. The room brightened. Her breath returned. She didn’t question why.
She loved him. She was in his arms. And Gaston was never coming near her again.

But it couldn’t continue. She blinked and everything came into focus. That was almost worse. She caught more than once glance toward her feet. And more than one raised set of eyebrows.  

“You should put me down now.”

He chuckled. “You’re always asking for the most uncommon
things. That’s why I adore you, I suppose.”

“Gillian, I’m serious.”  She pulled away from his neck.

He sighed in answer and took some spinning rotations that made her dizzy. Helene gasped and closed her eyes and didn’t open them until he stopped. They were outside. On a secluded balcony. It overlooked the countess’s garden where little lanterns had been placed, making it look like fireflies flickered among the shrubbery. Gil
didn’t put her down right away. He walked to the
stone balustrade and sat her atop it, still holding her. In his arms. Protected. She couldn’t think of one
reason to move. It was too comforting to lean against him, and simply exist, lulling her senses with each prolonged moment of silence.

And then he changed it.

“You’ve met this Gaston, haven’t you?”

She pulled back and looked up to him and caught her lip.

“It’s part of the puzzle, Helene. If you can speak of it, I’ll listen. But it can wait.”

“He was with Helen. When they came for me.”

“At the sanatorium?”

“He...helped her dress! Change, I mean. He...he watched, as
Helen....”  Her voice fell off.

“He changed you into Helen’s wedding gown? I’m grateful Chaffin didn’t kill him and left him for me!”

“No! No…he didn’t do that. He...”  Her voice dropped
as she touched the slight puckering beneath her left eye.

Everything on Gillian went angered and tense, while his breath blasted across her nose.

“He
hit
you?”

“One of many, I assure you.”  She tried to laugh, but it came out shaky-sounding and false.

“But why take her
hired brute with her on a honeymoon?”

“Perhaps...he was more than that.”

“You’ve a one-track mind, darling.” He smiled, but she
didn’t return it.

“You didn’t see her with him! She...gave him the harlot look, and—oh, why bother? You won’t believe me, anyway!”

Damn everything
. She couldn’t stop tears from coloring her voice.

“Try me.”  He wasn’t smiling anymore.  

She sucked the tears back, shuddering with the effort.

“You don’t have to do that anymore, love,” he whispered.

“Do what?” she asked innocently.

“Trust me, Helene.”

He put a finger under her chin and
tilted her face up until she had no choice but to look him squarely in the eyes.

“Tell me what happened, and trust that I’ll believe
you.”

Helene’s eyes skittered away. She couldn’t possibly tell him
anything if he insisted on using that tone! She’d be in tears, and,
as exhausted as she felt, there wouldn’t be any stopping them
.

“She had a maid with her, too. Madelaine. That’s who
changed us. Helen postured and preened for Gaston to watch. I was never
so thankful in my life, Gillian! He…actually had designs on me. I
couldn’t have fought him — you know that. I was only capable of
frightening the daylights out of proper English gentlemen, not Helen’s hireling.” 
Her voice was bitter, and
she wasn’t even trying to project that.

“No, darling. You were the bravest thing I ever saw.”

“Me?”

Her eyes jerked back to him. She searched his face. He wasn’t teasing.
Her eyes filled with tears as she realized he meant it.

“Are you going to cry?”

He moved a hand from her and started looking through his
pockets. And then he handed her his handkerchief. And damn everything. It smelled like him, too!

“No!” she wailed, holding the cloth to her face as tears slid
down her cheeks.

“Thank God for small mercies, then. I imagine the countess
and her guests would think I tortured you out here.”

“You’re ridiculous.” She giggled through her tears.

“Excellent choice. I like that word better than the disgust one. Now, when you’re finished
not
crying, are you willing to go back inside? Try the buffet?
No? More dancing, then? I believe there are other guests we’re
supposed to meet. That might prove entertaining.”

“I’m tired, Gillian.”

“Complaints, too? Really,
Madame,
you severely try a man’s self-worth. And after all my trouble to
make your stay in Paris exciting — as short as it will be.”

“What does that mean?”

“Only that this Corsican upstart violated his treaty with England, and war has been declared
, or restarted, or whatever the proper term is. And that sort of thing is bound to put a crimp into our plans.”

It was a good thing he was still holding her, because the balcony was two stories off the ground, after all.

CHAPTER SIX

“What...what did you just say?”

Surprise stopped everything. Even tears.
And he just stood there smiling, as if awaiting her reaction.

“Did you just say…war?
War?
Damn it, Gillian! How can you say
something like that and act like it’s nothing but trite nonsense? I don’t
understand you at all! Where would you have heard something of
such import, anyway? I’ve been with you every moment,
and there hasn’t been one word of war! You’ve had us gallivanting about Paris as if...as if we’re really on a honeymoon instead of
being in mortal danger! Don’t you realize what that’s like? Oh my God! To be ignorant must be bliss!”

He pulled her off the balcony after she finished, set her on her feet, stepped back, folded
his arms, and even tipped his head slightly to one side. Helene shut her mouth and regarded him, although she couldn’t stop her breathing from being harsh and quick. If he was playing
some new game, any reaction would just play into his hands. But, it had to be a game. He
didn’t realize how serious his implications were.

“Let’s see.”

He unfolded his arms, and lifted his hands and started ticking off points on his fingers. If she’d ever wanted to kick him, it was then.

“Let me see…yes. I have it. I’ll start with the war. Yes. Britain declared war. I say it as matter-of-factly as I can due to a potential reaction, and you call it trite nonsense. I’d have rooms to let in my head if I even allowed you to think you understand me. And I know because I heard it from Colonel
Fontenelle this morning.”

“But—”

“Darling, please. I’m attempting to answer your questions as you posed them, and you’ll
make me lose my place. Where was I? Oh, yes, Colonel
Fontenelle. Actually, it was one of his guards I heard it from, but that’s the same
thing. Further, and I do beg
your pardon, but I most certainly was
not
with you
when you toured the
Rue de Concorde.
Let’s also add the time you spent at
Madame
Josephine’s little interview, which, by the way, made me
frantic with worry the whole time. And for what? You saw the
woman bathe! And you never once pondered why she’d ask to see you and then changed her
mind?”

“She dismissed me as soon as she found out I had a cousin
of the same name.”

“Truly? There’s another piece of this puzzle. They seem a trifle obsessed with Helen, don’t they? But....”
He lifted his hand to stop any remark. “I haven’t finished my explanation, love. And I’m going to lose my place at the rate you’re tossing loose
ends into the mix.”

“I did no such thing!”

“Do you want to argue the point or hear me out? No
answer? Very well, I’ll continue. We spent all day looking like
innocent lovers on their honeymoon,
gallivanting about Paris like we’re unaware of our fate, because
that’s the best way to make good our escape. I have no direct
knowledge of war, because my esteemed mother kept me in
leading reins and didn’t allow me to participate the last time. And I most certainly am not the one in ignorance, am I? Well?
Have I left anything out?”

She opened her mouth and shut it.
He’s impossible
.

“I believe I’ve found a way to stump you, Helene.”

“I’m not stumped.”

“Are too.”

“I am not, and you’re a boor.”

“Perhaps.” 

He paused to consider that, and then he winked.
Winked!

“But, look. I
do appear to have stopped those distressful tears, that were
accompanying that odd emotion you were just suffering from, that wasn’t crying.”

“I amend my opinion, My Lord. Not only are you a boor, you’re an uncommonly lousy liar. If there really was a condition of
war, you’d find more to do than argue points of distinction with me. I’m not a simpleton, you know.”

“Not a simpleton by a long shot. I haven’t made the mistake of underestimating you in a long time, Helene, despite my unfortunate error earlier at the
Rue de Concorde
. But I have to tell you.
I’m deadly serious at the moment. Britain is hanging onto some land
we were supposed to give up under the Treaty of Amiens. Then
again, Napoleon hasn’t stopped his empire building, and long story short – someone
got fed up. I don’t mean to bore you, but I don’t spend all my time pondering how to keep ahead of you.
I was warned something like this might
happen, and, within, what? Three weeks? We’re in a state of war. And look about.
The entire world acts as if it were nothing.”

He waved outward at the gardens below them, and beyond that, the lights of Paris.

“You’re certain, Gil?”

She stood beside him and looked out
over what had been a pleasant, peaceful, slightly romantic view a few moments earlier.

“More than certain, darling. You would be, too, if you’d
heard.”

“And no word to me? You could’ve said something, Gillian.” 
She tried not to sound defensive, but failed. “I
have no great love for the Bonapartes, and I wouldn’t have told
anyone. You had all day to tell me about Colonel Fontenelle.”

“I did try, remember? I asked if you considered his absence,
and you tossed me some flippant remark about your boudoir.”

“Oh, fine. Toss that in.”

He grinned, and her heart lurched at the sight.

“Oh love. I considered it, but I needed you to act as
blissfully annoyed and ignorant as you did. And you must admit, it
was
rather
diverting to spend some time at a French dress shop, wasn’t it? Oh. And I
like your new hairstyle, if I haven’t told you yet.”

‘But we lost so much time, Gillian!”

“Actually, we’ve gained it. I’d bet my last shilling
that Colonel Fontenelle won’t waste any more time
on us than he would on any other British citizen this eve. I only wish I had the resources to alert all of them, but they wouldn’t believe me, anyhow. The countess thought I’d lost my
mind when I told her, and she, at least, should know to trust
me.”

“What...fate, Gillian?”

She almost didn’t get it out. Her voice was choked sounding, and the words stumbled. And it was because she was so jealous at the moment, the
Countess of Tilbury wasn’t safe.

“They’re arresting every British citizen, Helene. They’ve been doing it all day.
Why do you think I kept you away from Peacockville?”

“To tire me,” she admitted.

“You believed that? I may have to amend my opinion of my abilities.”

“Oh, Gillian! What will we do?”

“I already told you. We’re escaping, and you’re to thank that it will work. It has to.”

“Why are we standing around, then?”

“We have to wait until midnight, darling. Renee can’t get a
coach here until then. Oh. Bother. It does appear that I’m in the wrong balcony, however.”

He looked over her head and frowned. She matched it

“Renee? Evette’s Renee? I don’t understand. What
does he have to do with anything? And what do you mean, the wrong
balcony?”

Her voice rose, and she no longer cared.

“One question at a time, love. Here. Hold this for me, will you?”

He stripped off his tailored, black, superfine wool jacket and held
it toward her. Helene stepped back in horror.

He wouldn’t! Not in the countess’s balcony!

“Please, Helene, try to focus on the job at hand. I’m
readying myself to leap off a balcony, not tear off our clothing. I
won’t have time to consider that until much later.”

He kissed the tip of her nose and pressed his jacket into her
hands. She held it close as his words sank in. And then she was at the railing, watching him
balance atop it.

“Gillian! Stop. Please. You
have
lost your mind.”

“As long as that’s the only thing I lose. You don’t have to watch, you know.”

She couldn’t turn away. He swung his arms
twice and jumped. She didn’t realize she was holding her breath
until she heard his grunt and then a bit of cursing at how badly
he’d miscalculated. He should’ve had Brandy do it. At least, she’d had practice.

His leap had been short, and he barely gripped the other balcony floor. She watched as he pulled himself up to
distinct sound of tearing cloth and another bout of cursing
. He was lucky
the ballroom behind them was as loud as it was. It drowned out the sounds of his act.
And it was for what? Stupid man. Why couldn’t he just walk out into the
ballroom? She sincerely hoped this barbarian act wasn’t for her benefit,
especially with how poorly he did it. He
slung a leg over. And she didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until he was fully on the other balcony and grinning over at her.

At the sign he prepared to jump back, she found she
couldn’t just stand there and wait for him to miss on the way
back. She turned around and listened for him to fall into the trees below them. Curse from there. Perhaps break a limb.

A moment later he was speaking right behind her.

“Well. That wasn’t…pleasant. I can’t say my tailors will
be...overjoyed...at the abuse...my wardrobe is taking, either. But, what do you know? I made it.”

He threw something at her feet after the words. He
sounded so pleased with himself her hands curled into fists. After stopping her heart with fear, he exulted?

“You’re an unprincipled cad, My Lord.”

She said it from over
her shoulder and he
had the nerve to sound offended.

“What do you want me to say? That next time, I’ll
have the presence of mind to escort you to the correct balcony? Is that it?”

“What the devil’s wrong with just walking there?”

“Didn’t it occur to you that no one is bothering us right now,
because they think we might be trysting, darling?”

“I never heard of anything so…embarrassing!”

“Oh…I have. But, I won’t bother listing them, at present. And – be honest here – is it so unbelievable? Explain what you’d think if a couple just
waltzed off the dance floor into a balcony and didn’t come
back?”

“No one noticed us,” she said weakly.

“I have to keep you occupied for another seven minutes or
so, Helene, and I’d really prefer it if we weren’t arguing. I thought I did
rather well.”

She laughed cynically. “That was the most inept
display of physical prowess I ever saw.”

“You’re a judge?”

She should’ve taken heed of the warning
note in his question.

“You looked like a drunken thief, My Lord.”

“Forget the seven minutes. We’re leaving now.”

He spoke
through clenched teeth, and she watched as he picked up a rope
and fastened one end it to the balustrade.

“Oh, no. We’re not. I’m not. I can’t.”  What was wrong with her? She couldn’t finish one sentence?

“We’re climbing down, love. That’s what the rope is for. I’d send you first, but I’m
afraid the sway is a bit difficult to get used to.”

“You’re making all of this up, Gillian, aren’t you? Come on.
You just want to see me shinny down a rope in the middle of
the night in an ensemble that probably cost a fortune. Admit it.”

“Wrong. I’m getting us out of Bonaparte’s clutches, Helene. Now. Are
you going to help, or will I have to climb down that rope with you across my
shoulder? Don’t think I won’t do it. If you recall, I’m quite a hand
at that particular act, even if I don’t leap balconies with the best of
them. And you can quit laughing! I’m not particularly fond of it.”

“What awaits us at the end of this rope, Gillian? If this isn’t a jest, what’s the rest of your brilliant plan?”

He sighed exaggeratedly and tested the rope. “Time’s
wasting, Helene, and you haven’t given me your answer. Which
will it be?”

“Tell me the rest of your plan, and I’ll go. Well…I
promise to think about it.”