Fairchild's Lady (Culper Ring Series) (8 page)

A cry escaped, try as she might to press her lips against it. Pain stabbed, radiated, and all she could do was cover it with a shaking hand.

Remi spat out a curse and spun away again. “I thought you better than this, Julienne. For three years you have held me at arm’s length, quoting your morality. I did not respect your wishes all that time for
this
.”

“I…” No other words would come. What could she possibly say that wouldn’t make things worse?

He snatched up a vase and sent it to its death against a wall. “Faithless woman!”

Faithless? He called
her
faithless when he was the one who had
wanted to make a mistress of her while his wife lay dying? She surged to her feet. “I am not! These three years I have never looked at another man, have certainly never dared speak to one lest you overreact.”

“But you toss yourself into one’s arms now?” He grabbed her and pulled her flush against him. His fingers bit into her arms so hard they would surely leave their marks upon her flesh, and he shook her. “Why?”

When trying to pull away failed, she instead threw herself against his chest again so that at least he could shake her no more. Though when she looked up into his face, she knew well her eyes were not the empty windows she usually gave him. “Perhaps I fear you, Remi. Perhaps I fear what a life with you will mean.”

His smile was more a sneer, the hand he slid into her hair more threat than comfort. “Do as you should,
ma chérie
, and you will have nothing to fear.” His fingers fisted around her curls, and again he used it to tilt her face up. “You are willful. You have hidden it well all this time, but there it shines from your eyes. Rest assured I shall break you of it,
ma belle
.”

From where did the courage to smirk come? She didn’t know, but it felt like a sort of victory upon her lips. “Would it not be easier to simply lay claim to a more docile female? That is your practice when your current one fails you, is it not? Simply choose another. And you are in luck this time, Remi, for we are not yet wed. You need not wait for me to die to find a better mademoiselle.”

Her victory turned to ashes at the smile he gave her. “You think that is all you are, Julienne? A replacement upon whom I decided, like a pair of boots when I saw the need for them?
Non
. From the first moment I saw you, I knew you were mine. Mine,
mon amour
, no matter your ridiculous fiancé or my weak-minded wife.”

Ice blew over her blood. “You did not even know me when I was still betrothed to François.”

His chuckle lit fear anew within her, which crackled and flicked to life when he locked his other arm around her waist. “Know you?
Non
. But I saw you. I had just sent my wife to the château after her diagnosis, was just coming to grips with how she had failed me, when there you were in the gardens. A vision of beauty unlike any I had ever seen, with those eyes that could pierce a man through. I knew then I must have you, that you were made to be mine.”

Her throat constricted at the terrible confidence in his eyes. “But…”

“But there was your precious François?
Oui
, a truth which caused me no little irritation at first. How fortunate he was so clumsy in the woods,
non
?”

He could not be implying…
non
, that was too terrible, too low even for him. To dispose of an enemy who had wronged him,
oui
, that she expected of him. But a man who had done nothing but choose a woman he later decided he wanted? She shook her head—or tried to, though his grip allowed for little movement. “
Non
, Remi, it was not fortunate. It was a terrible tragedy.”

“Come now.” He leaned forward and nipped at her ear before pressing his lips to her throat. The shiver that overtook her was far, far different from the one that had danced down her spine when Isaac had kissed the same spot not fifteen minutes earlier. “I could hardly allow an insolent pup like him to remain between us.”

Non, non
…her eyes slid shut, but the horror would not be blotted out so easily. “But Remi, he…he was not between us. He had ended our betrothal just that morning. He planned to marry my friend Lynette.”

“
Quoi?
” He pulled back and forced her face up again. When she opened her eyes, she saw a storm raging through his eyes. “He would have tossed you over for
her
? Then he was too stupid to live anyway.”

“Remi!”

“He was a maggot, nothing more. Forget him.”

She already had in every way that mattered. But Remi, his behavior, his tyranny—that she could never forget. And must, at any cost, escape. “Does life mean so little to you?”

He arched a single brow. “Life? I think it a fragile thing. So easily snuffed out when a person does not value it enough to guard it. One stray shot from a rifle. One twist of a neck.”

She swallowed hard when his fingers closed around hers.

But he chuckled. “Your neck is far too lovely to ruin,
mon ange
, unless you force my hand. Your skin far too perfect to mar.” He turned her face and examined her cheek, probing at where he had struck her. She winced and whimpered and tried to pull away, but he held her tight. Made a
tsking
noise. “Look what you have done, Julienne. It will bruise.”

What
she
had done?

Before she could wrap her tongue around a retort, the door opened, and Mère swept in. Her mother’s gaze widened, and she rushed forward, knocking Remi’s hands away so she could examine Julienne’s cheek with her gentle touch.

Strange how her maman’s presence could make her want nothing more than to let her knees go weak and the tears come.

“
Ma fille
, what has happened?”

Remi stepped away, his face once again the work of carefully chiseled stone that he wore for the public. “I caught your daughter in the arms of the comte d’Ushant, madame.”

“Julienne,
non
.” Their gazes locked, and though Julienne saw the very real outrage in her mother’s eyes, she saw too the light of understanding. “How could you be so—Did he do this to you?”

Julienne covered Mère’s hand with her own, hoping to soothe away the tremor she’d heard. “No, Maman.” She looked past her mother to Remi.

He narrowed his eyes. “It must have been the result of the scuffle when my men pulled them apart. Naturally, I will punish whoever dared to mark her ivory skin.”

Perhaps the words were spoken evenly, without any hesitation, but Mère was no fool. She pressed her lips together, worry swirling in her eyes only when her back was to the duc. They cleared just before she pivoted to face him. “I should hope so. Foolish though her action may have been, one moment of folly is hardly cause for such rough treatment. She is a good girl, my Julienne. I am sure it was a moment of weakness, nothing more. Certainly it will never happen again.”

“Of that I intend to be sure.” Remi strode to the cabinet against the wall and unstopped a decanter, sloshing liquor into a glass. “Julienne will not leave this apartment until we are wed.”

Non
. He could not hold her here, a prisoner. Julienne stumbled backward into the chair. He could not—She must convince her mother to leave France. They must rendezvous with Isaac.

Mère stormed after the duc. “
Pardonnez-moi
, monsieur—but my daughter most certainly will
not
be residing in your rooms
until
you are wed!”

Dark amusement lit his eyes as he sipped at the drink. “There will be no harm, as I will not be in them. And you are welcome to stay
with her, madame. But I promise you, her lovely feet shall not cross the threshold until my return. I will have every entrance guarded. No one will come in, and she will
not
go out.”

Her mother fisted her hands against her hips. “Absurd. We have much planning to do for the wedding—”

“Yes, you have, and all of it can be accomplished from here.” His gaze found Julienne again. Hard, unforgiving. Determined to have what he wanted. “Commission your gown,
mon amour
. Redecorate the rooms if you so wish.”

Mère huffed. “And how are we to commission her gown if no one is allowed in?”

A spark of amused respect flashed through his eyes. “Very well, I shall leave a list of approved visitors. Your father, madame, and those with whom you will need to speak for the wedding. But no friends. Most certainly no
male
friends.”

Her mother raised her hands in surrender, but not without a huff. “I feel you are overreacting,
monsieur
, but so be it. Send a servant for our things, if you will, and show us to our room.”

Leave it Mère to dismiss
him
. Relief sang through Julienne’s veins as she pushed herself up and to her mother’s side.

The duc raised a brow. “Your rooms, you mean. I have enough for you both.”

“I think not, monsieur.” Somehow, her mother’s smile was placating even as it was challenging. “I will indulge your lack of trust in Julienne right now, but you must indulge me in my lack of trust in you, with so beautiful a young woman under your roof.”

Remi bowed, though Julienne did not miss the spark of displeasure in his eye. The chill that clawed up her spine told her Mère may have just spared her more pain this night. “Very well, madame. I cannot fault a mother for guarding her daughter’s virtue. Come this way.”

They followed him down a hall and into a chamber resplendent in its appointments, one whose beauty she might have appreciated had it not been a dungeon in purpose. She walked toward the window and looked out, swallowing back her panic when she saw it was far too high up to attempt an escape from here.

“I will be leaving at first light,” Remi said, his voice cool as granite.
“My steward will have instructions on the wedding. I expect you will have all arranged upon my return in a week.”

“Of course, monsieur.”

Julienne dragged in a long breath and turned back to them just in time to see the duc quirk a brow.

“Are you not going to give me a proper farewell, Julienne?”

Seeing no way around it, she went to him and let him pull her far too close and kiss her far too passionately.

Never again would he touch her—that she swore the moment he let her go. She would find a way out of this place, she would find Isaac, she would leave forever. Never, never again would his hands bruise or his words control.

He smirked down at her and brushed his knuckles over her cheek, pressing hard upon her bruise. But though she couldn’t control the wince, she did not give him the satisfaction of another whimper. He tweaked her chin. “One week, Julienne. Use the time to reflect on my generosity in forgiving you.”

She dug up a smile, though surely mockery tainted it. “I will dwell on little else, Remi.”

He left, pulling the door shut behind him. And then she let her shoulders sag.

“Julienne.” Her mother led her over to the bed and sat beside her on its edge, wrapping her arms around her. “He struck you?”

Tears clogged her throat, so she only nodded against her maman’s shoulder.

“I am so sorry,
ma fille
. I never would have thought he would. He seemed to love you so.”

Now Julienne lifted her head and met Mère’s gaze, grasping her hands. “It is not so noble a feeling, Maman. He…” The terrible truth slapped her just as Remi had done, bringing a flash of memory. François, by no means innocent but certainly not deserving of his fate. His blue eyes, perhaps filled with mockery at their last meeting, but once held dear. Extinguished. Extinguished merely because Remi had glimpsed her. It was too terrible to grasp.

She shook her head. “He killed François. Or perhaps had another do it, I do not know, but he said…he said he was a maggot who did not deserve to live, that he could not suffer him be between us—”

“Hush, child, calm down.” Her mother squeezed her fingers and glanced toward the door, though Julienne had not spoken above a whisper. Her brows furrowed. “You had not even met then.”

“I know. But he said he saw me in the garden and knew I was his. He is mad, Maman. He must be, to think…”

“Mad on power.” Drawing in a long breath, Mère squared her shoulders. “But why, Julienne, why did you have to do something so foolish as meet the comte? It would have been so easy to slip away while the duc was at his château, but now…”

She tried to press her lips down against the tears. “I know. I just…I had to see him. I…I love him.”

Mourning filled her mother’s eyes. “Julienne.”

“At the masquerade, we wandered through the gardens and talked for hours, and we…I…neither of us even knew who the other was. Yet all these months we have both been dreaming of finding each other again.”

Mère muttered a prayer. “And what did the duc do to
him
when he caught you?”

“Nothing. He threatened him and let him go.”

“That seems very unlike the duc,
non
?”

Julienne shrugged and called to mind the way Isaac had transformed before her eyes, from the gentle soul she loved into…well, apparently into the comte d’Ushant. “It seems the real comte is known for his conquests. He played the part, claiming our encounter was nothing to him. Remi believed it and apparently thought he would benefit from d’Ushant owing him a favor.”