Educating Elizabeth (20 page)

Elizabeth's smile faltered "I remember how the tattered gold braid on his uniform was crushed against my face and how I struggled to breathe until I realized he was crying. I stayed still then until he let me go, terrified that I had upset him by showing him my secrets."

She glanced up at her silent listeners and drew in a breath. "When my mother returned home there was a terrible argument. I sat at the top of the stairs, my knees drawn up tight to my chest and listened as my world was destroyed."

The duke reached across the expanse of the table and took hold of her other hand.

"My father never came back. He was killed shortly afterwards volunteering for a dangerous, some might say, suicidal attack, on a French gun position. My mother blamed me and still does on occasion."

The duke stood up so quickly his chair tipped backward and pulled her into his arms. "It was not your fault." He crushed her hard against his chest, his voice hoarse in her ear. "You are never to think it."

She gasped as the duke swept her up into his arms and headed for the door. She clung to his shoulders as he marched up the stairs and put her down on the bed. His mouth covered hers with an urgency and hunger she strove to return.

Her body seemed to have turned to liquid as she pressed closer and closer to him, seeking relief from the emotions swirling inside her. He continued to kiss her, his hands all over her, her breasts aching for his touch. He shuddered as he tipped her off his lap onto her back and came down over her, one satin-clad leg between her thighs.

"You must not blame yourself, Elizabeth. You were only eight years old."

She touched his cheek, "Why is it so important to you that I believe this, Gervase"

He rolled onto his back, taking her with him. "I taught my son the secrets of our château in France and his mother, my wife, used that knowledge to destroy my family."

Elizabeth forced the duke to look at her by the simple expedient of caging his face in her hands. "I didn't know you had a son."

"I don't anymore. My wife found herself an important lover in the revolutionary government, and in an effort to impress him, she decided to betray my family and dependents to the provincial courts."

He shrugged. "She persuaded my son, David, to reveal all the hiding places for people and for money I had shown him in the chateau. Unfortunately I was not in the main house when the soldiers arrived, but several of my family were."

The duke closed his eyes. "When my son realized what he had done, he tried to make amends. He knew I was at the old gate house and he came to warn me." He opened his eyes and stared at Elizabeth. "The soldiers shot him like vermin as he ran through the woods. He lasted long enough in my arms to tell me what had happened and to beg my forgiveness."

The duke cursed softly and turned his head away. "So you see, Elizabeth, I know that your father would have forgiven you just as I forgave my son. The only person who betrayed you was your mother."

Elizabeth rested her forehead against the duke's. Her tears ran down her face and dripped onto his.

"Gervase, I'm so sorry." She bent and kissed him hard on the mouth and then cradled his head to her breast in a desperate attempt to console him. He allowed her to hold him for a short while and then pulled away.

Elizabeth touched his mouth with her fingertips. "Will you not stay?"

"No, my dear, it would not be wise." He swung his legs over the side of the bed and ran a hand through his thick black hair. "You might think to offer yourself to me out of pity and, being a lustful man, I might take you up on that offer and it would never do."

"Why not, Your Grace?" Elizabeth asked as he headed for the door.

"Because when I do bed you, Elizabeth Waterstone, it will not be due to the effects of too much port or because you feel sorry for me. It will be because you want me as much as I want you."

He shut the door behind him with a decisive snap and Elizabeth fell back onto her pillows. He truly wanted her? She snuggled down under the covers. She feared he would regret his unguarded words on the morrow and wondered in what subtle ways he would punish her for making him appear vulnerable. A headache crept up on her but she still couldn't regret her reckless drinking competition with the duke.

"Nicholas, for the last time, go home! I don't need you following me. People are beginning to stare." Elizabeth stopped in the middle of the busy street and frowned. Nicholas had the effrontery to grin and shake his head. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Waterstone, but I'm under the duke's orders. You are to be escorted at all times."

A daring idea came to Elizabeth and she set off again. She spoke over her shoulder as Nicholas struggled to catch up. "I'm going to purchase some garments of an intimate nature and I had hoped to avoid embarrassment for both of us."

She paused outside Madame Isabelle's Lingerie, a shop that the duke had recommended. "Perhaps you would prefer to wait outside? I will only be a little while."

Nicholas hesitated as Elizabeth opened the door, releasing a cloud of heavy perfume. A bell tinkled in the back of the shop and Elizabeth sensed Nicholas was wavering.

"I would hate to have to tell your sister I had seen you in a place like this."

Nicholas slumped against the window with an exaggerated sigh and folded his arms. "It's all right, Mrs. Waterstone, there is no need to bring out the heavy guns. I will wait here."

Elizabeth turned to enter the shop. She paused as Nicholas called out.

"Mrs. Waterstone? In case you have forgotten, the duke's favorite color on you is lilac."

He winked and she frowned before shutting the door on his laughing face. She let out a frustrated breath. Now she would have to buy something. After greeting the proprietor, Madame Isabelle, she picked out a lilac silk bed gown sewn with seed pearls that she knew the duke would like, and went to the back of the shop to try it on.

As she was helped back into her muslin gown she caught the French woman's eye. "Madame, if I wished to avoid the young man who waits for me at the front of your shop, would I be able to leave from a different exit?"

Understanding dawned in Madame Isabelle's shrewd brown eyes. "You have another assignation?" Her surprised glance swept over Elizabeth. "I will continue to bring you clothes to try on, so that the young gentleman will not become suspicious and you may leave and return from the back of the shop."

Madame didn't elaborate, but Elizabeth knew she would be paying for the favor with an assortment of scandalous new lingerie, which would please no one but the duke. She nodded as she placed her bonnet on her head. "Thank you, Madame, I should not be above a half hour."

She picked up her reticule and ran up the hill to Barings Coffee House where she had arranged to meet Jack Llewelyn. When she stepped inside, it took her a while to adjust to the fug of smoke and the dark, stained, oak-paneled interior. She spotted Jack's blond hair in a booth in the furthest corner.

As she approached, he looked up with a wariness and speed that betrayed him as a man of action. When he stood and smiled, his hard face softened. He swept her a bow that was elegant even in his cramped surroundings.

"Miss Waterstone. I thought I had misjudged the time." He withdrew a battered pocket watch and frowned at it. "This watch has never been the same since Salamanca."

Elizabeth slid into the booth opposite him and he signaled for a waiter. He ordered coffee for himself and hot chocolate for her and then sat back and regarded her.

"Michael enjoyed the books, Miss Waterstone. It was kind of you to bring them for him."

"I know how much Michael enjoys to read and how it frustrates him not being able to stroll along to Hatchards or Hookhams to peruse the latest titles."

Jack Llewelyn thanked the waiter and dropped some coins onto the tray as he brought their drinks. "I wanted to talk to you about that. I've seen pictures of chairs with wheels that can be used to take an invalid out to take the air. It would be advisable to purchase one for Michael."

Her hesitation must have shown as he continued, his large hands wrapped around his steaming coffee cup. "I know these chairs are expensive and I will understand if you cannot afford to buy one, but will you at least think about it?" He frowned. "I broached the subject with the Forester's, but they were not inclined to help."

Elizabeth tried to think of what to say. All her available money was already being spent on Michael. "I agree with you, Mr. Llewelyn, but..."

"Please call me Jack. I can't get used to being plain mister again."

"Jack, then, I'm not sure how I will be able to find the money, but I will certainly try." She cleared her throat. "As Michael has probably told you, I work for the Duke of Diable Delamere. I could ask him for an advance on my salary."

Jack frowned. "Don't do any such thing. Once he has a hold over you, you might find yourself performing far more than administrative duties. That man is as cold and ruthless as a shark."

Elizabeth was glad Jack Llewellyn couldn't see the betraying flush of color on her cheeks.

He finished his coffee and his report and got to his feet. "I'm sorry, Miss Waterstone, I have to get back to Michael. No one else will answer his bell."

Elizabeth nodded, accepted his hand, and made her way toward the door. Jack smiled down at her and the sun gilded his hair like an angel's halo. "May I escort you somewhere, Miss Waterstone?"

She pressed his arm. "No thank you. I'm supposed to be shopping and arriving back with you might complicate matters."

He gave her a careless salute and strode off along the road. Elizabeth hastened back to the shop to find Madame Isabelle awaiting her.

"Your young man did inquire about you, but I think I managed to reassure him. Did you accomplish your purpose?"

Elizabeth glanced in the mirror and rubbed a smudge of hot chocolate from her top lip. "Yes, thank you, Madame." She glanced at the huge pile of garments Madame and her assistants were eagerly wrapping up and sighed. "You will have to send the bill to the Duke of Diable Delamere. I certainly cannot afford to pay for all of these myself."

Madame Isabelle gasped and clasped her hands to her bosom. "You are so lucky, my dear. The duke is one of my best customers. He will be delighted with your choices." She frowned and shook her finger at Elizabeth. "A word of advice. If I had known that you were attempting to deceive the Duke of Diable Delamere I would never had aided you. He is far too clever to be misled."

With this last piece of unfortunately true and sage advice, Elizabeth was escorted firmly from the shop, her bags deposited with Nicholas and sent home.

*** *** ***

"Can you describe the man to me, Nicholas?"

"He was about your age and had striking blond hair. He had the bearing of an ex-military man. I couldn't get very close to them for fear Mrs. Waterstone might see me. As it was, I barely made it back to the shop before she did."

"You did well, Nick." Gervase frowned down at his gleaming boots. "Return to the coffee house and see if you can find out who this person is. I suspect he is the same man Mrs. Waterstone met in the park a week or two ago."

"Yes, of course, Your Grace. I will go at once."

Nicholas grabbed his hat and coat and rushed into the hall, nearly colliding with Elizabeth as she reached the bottom of the stairs. With a shouted apology, Nicholas sped out the door.

Half-laughing, Elizabeth caught Gervase's eye and shrugged.

He straightened and removed all expression from his face as she came toward him. The slight frown between her brows heightened his concern and tightened his gut.

"Your Grace, may I have a moment of your time?"

At his nod, she sank gracefully into the chair in front of his desk. She wore a soft lilac gown, high to the neck, and her spectacles adorned her nose. His tension mounted as she bit her lip.

"I was wondering if you might give me an advance on my wages."

He stared at her for a full minute before he could bring himself to speak. Of all the things he expected, a plea for money had not been one of them.

"Why do you need money so badly? Your costs cannot be heavy living here, as you do, at my expense."

Her bosom rose and fell as she drew in an agitated breath. "I cannot tell you what the money is for, Your Grace. Can't you just accept that I need it? That I only ask because it is completely necessary?"

Gervase's thoughts flew to the mysterious blond man. Was she being blackmailed? Was that why she was afraid to tell him? He frowned. If she truly worked for Mr. Forester and the French, surely she would be receiving money rather than asking to borrow it.

"Are you in need of my assistance, Miss Waterstone? There is nothing you could tell me that would shock me and I promise to act in the strictest of confidence." Gervase sank into the chair behind his desk and smiled encouragingly.

Unfortunately, Elizabeth glared back at him.

"I will not be manipulated, Your Grace. I'm sure if I were a man you would lend me the money without question, without even asking for repayment. I'm just as capable of sorting out my finances and making my own decisions as you are!"

"If you were a man," Gervase said softly, "You would not be in my employ and we would not be having this conversation." He admired the militant sparkle in her gray eyes and the sharp edge of her temper grazing his will as she shot to her feet. He waved her back to her chair and she subsided with an indignant huffing sound.

"I will think about what you have asked me, Elizabeth, and give you my decision before the week is out." He hoped this would give him enough time to find out exactly what she was up to.

"I suppose that will have to do, Your Grace." She sighed. "Thank you."

"Before you disappear, my dear, it behooves me to remind you of our agreement." She went still and he smiled. "You are not entirely responsible for your own actions are you? You promised to obey me."

"I promised to be directed by you in matters of the
flesh
, Your Grace. Not in all spheres of my life."