Love's Peril (Lord Trent Series) (35 page)

Mrs. Harcourt indicated the sofa, and Sarah eased back down as Mrs. Harcourt settled in the chair across. They waited silently while servants brought refreshments. As they left, Mrs. Harcourt poured the tea.

“Your name is familiar to me,”she told Sarah, “but I don’t recognize you. Why do I feel as if I should know you from somewhere?”

“Your father may have mentioned me.”

“In what capacity?”

Sarah assessed her. Lord Trent claimed Harriet was funny and trusting and would listen to Sarah. He couldn’t guarantee she would assist, but she would at least listen.

“I fell in love over the summer,”Sarah admitted.

It was a strange way to begin, and Mrs. Harcourt carefully replied, “Well…how wonderful for you.”

“He was the last man I would have chosen for myself, but he was very dashing, very intriguing. I’d never met anyone like him, and I couldn’t resist.”

“He sounds like my husband. When I met Tristan, I thought the very same.”

“He won me in a card game.”

Mrs. Harcourt considered for a moment, then gasped. “It wasn’t Charles, was it? You’re not in love with my father?” She groaned with dismay. “You can’t be. He has the worst reputation. You’re aware that he’s married, aren’t you?”

“No, no, it’s not Lord Trent. I’m sorry. I didn’t explain myself very clearly.”

“Who is it, then?”

“It’s Jean Pierre.”

“Oh.” Mrs. Harcourt took a deep breath, let it out.

She didn’t run screaming from the room, didn’t demand Sarah’s immediate departure. She simply held very still, her mind working furiously as she tried to devise the appropriate response.

Suddenly, she leapt up and announced, “I think this discussion requires a libation stronger than tea.”

She marched to the sideboard, poured two glasses of liquor, and handed one to Sarah. Sarah hadn’t ever been much of a drinker, but after living with Jean Pierre, she’d acquired new tastes, new habits. As Mrs. Harcourt sat again, Sarah enjoyed a sip, the warm brandy sliding down easily. It instantly calmed her, instantly halted the shaking of her fingers.

“You should probably call me Harriet,”Mrs. Harcourt said.

“I would be honored. And you must call me Sarah.”

“I will. So…you’re here on Jean Pierre’s behalf?”

“No, he doesn’t know. He won’t allow me to visit him in prison, so I haven’t had a chance to talk to him since the arrest.”

“Why are you here? What are you hoping to achieve?”

“He’s prepared to hang. He won’t fight what’s occurring.”

“Why not?”

“He always expected he’d meet a bad end, so he feels this is his destiny.”

“That’s an extremely grim outlook.”

“Yes, it is, and I can’t bear it that he’s willing to meekly submit to his own execution. I have to try to save him—especially since he won’t save himself.”

“Are you certain you should bother? There’s an enormous amount of evidence against him. You’re definitely waging an uphill battle.”

“May I be frank?”

“Of course.”

“The evidence is being provided by a former…well…mistress of Jean Pierre’s.” Sarah blushed bright red. “I apologize for mentioning such a scandalous person.”

“I told you to be frank. I can hardly complain when you are.”

“This woman is a very jealous individual. Jean Pierre set her aside for me, and she’s determined to hurt him because of it.”

“She seems to be succeeding. I read about her every time my husband brings home a newspaper.”

“But she’s very low-born, very disreputable. If I could find some other people—some respectable people—to speak on his behalf, I could counter her allegations.”

“Counter them how?”

“Your father has already agreed to help him. He’s decided to publically acknowledge Jean Pierre so the world will grasp that he’s an aristocrat’s son.”

“Really? Charles would do that? How did you convince him?”

“It was his own idea. He feels it will make it much more difficult for the Crown to kill Jean Pierre.”

Harriet nodded. “I guess he would know.”

“And he’ll give Jean Pierre an alibi. If Miss Dubois furnishes specific dates as to Jean Pierre’s pirating, Lord Trent will testify that Jean Pierre was with him and couldn’t have committed any crimes.”

“My goodness!”Harriet exclaimed. “I’m sorry, but I just can’t picture my father going to such lengths for one of his children.” It was Harriet’s turn to blush. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s all right. Once I leave, I’ll never reveal what we discussed.”

“Thank you. My relationship with Charles is a tad…peculiar.”

“I realize that it is.”

“I was sixteen when I first learned of him, and I didn’t meet him until I was twenty-one. I’m illegitimate and notorious, and what with Tristan and all that transpired, it’s so…so…”

Her voice trailed off, and she sipped her brandy and composed herself. The only sound was the ticking of the clock on the mantle. Out in the hall, a maid whisked by, then it was quiet again.

Finally, Harriet said, “You’d like me to do something for Jean Pierre. What is it?”

“I won’t deny that he was very cruel to you and your husband.”

Harriet flashed a wry smile. “That would be putting it mildly, but then, everything happens for a reason, doesn’t it? If Jean Pierre hadn’t attacked us, if we hadn’t spent months together on that deserted island, we would never have fallen in love.”

“Probably not.” Sarah smiled, too. “There are a hundred different descriptions of The French Terror, and you’re one of the few people who can actually identify him.”

“Yes, I can definitely identify him. His face is locked in my memory, but he looks so much like us, too. He’s unforgettable to me.”

Sarah braced herself, feeling as if she was balanced on a high cliff, as if she was about to jump off.

“I’m asking you to come to the trial as a witness. I’m asking you to tell everyone that you vividly remember The French Terror, and it’s not Jean Pierre.” Sarah paused, then grimly added, “I’m asking you to lie and save your brother’s life.”

For a lengthy interval, Harriet was silent. Then she walked to the sideboard and poured herself another brandy. She sipped it and miserably pondered.

“Could you do it, Harriet?”Sarah ultimately inquired.

“I don’t know.”

“He’s not the man you think he is. He’s not the man you saw that night out on the ocean.”

“I disagree. I think he is
precisely
that man. If I worked to free him, and he continued rampaging, if he hurt others as he hurt Tristan, I’d be partially responsible.”

“He had the worst childhood, and he’s overcome so many obstacles. After your father left Paris, after he abandoned Florence Harcourt, she and Jean Pierre were so desperately poor. She died when he was ten.”

“I’d heard that.”

“He was an orphan on the streets, trying to survive. If you could meet him, if you could talk to him and learn what he’s really like.

Harriet shook her head. “I can’t listen to this right now.”

“I understand.” Sarah realized she was about at the end of the appointment, and she hurried on. “If I can get him released, he’ll marry me, and we’ll retire to his home in France. He’ll never harm another person. I swear it to you.”

“
You
swear. What about him?”

“I swear for him, too. He loves me. In this, he’ll do as I ask.” Sarah rose, went over to Harriet, and dropped to her knees. “I beg you to help my beloved Jean Pierre. Please? Will you?”

Lord Trent had told Sarah that Harriet valued family above all else, that she’d found her siblings later in life, and they meant the world to her. Could she feel the same about Jean Pierre? Could she forgive him? Could she aid him?

Harriet clasped Sarah’s hands and drew her up.

“You’re asking so much of me,”Harriet said.

“But you’ll think about it?”

“Yes, but I’ll have to speak with my husband.”

“Will you let me know what you decide?”

“I will.”

“Thank you.”

Harriet escorted her to the foyer where a footman held out her bonnet and cloak. Sarah put them on, then walked to the door.

“Goodbye,”she said.

“Goodbye.”

“I hope we meet again someday—under better circumstances.”

“I hope so, too.”

Sarah whirled away, rushed to the carriage, and climbed in without glancing back.

“How did it go?”Raven inquired as she settled on the seat.

“She was very polite.”

“Were you allowed to present your case?”

“As best I could. She’ll consider my request, but she has to talk to her husband.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, oh.”

“So perhaps it was a wasted trip.”

“Let’s envision a positive result.”

Raven barked out a despairing laugh. “I will be a veritable fount of optimism. Just for you, Sarah.”

“No, for Jean Pierre.”

“Yes. For Jean Pierre.”

Raven tapped on the roof to signal the driver. The man clicked the reins, and they rumbled away.

* * * *

“I had a visitor today.”

“You always have visitors, Harriet. You’re the most fascinating woman in London. Everyone wants to be your friend.”

“Very funny.” Harriet glowered at Helen.

Fanny piped in with, “They’re all waiting for you to slip up and reveal a new salacious detail that hasn’t been previously disclosed.”

“I’ll never confess
all
that happened,”Harriet haughtily declared. “I’m respectably married now. There are many things the citizens of London don’t need to know about me.”

“Especially how you look without your clothes!”

Helen and Fanny whooped with glee, and Harriet rolled her eyes. They were in the parlor at Fanny’s town house. They’d finished supper, and their husbands were still in the dining room, having a brandy, so Harriet couldn’t prevent her sisters’ teasing.

After Jean Pierre had set Harriet and Tristan adrift on the ocean, they’d washed up on a deserted island. They’d lived off the land, like prehistoric natives, like Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden.

Tristan was an earl’s brother, so a huge search had been launched, and when he was located, tales quickly spread about the mysterious maiden who’d been trapped on the island with him. The rumors had been vulgar and obscene.

Man. Woman. Tropical island. Months spent alone, frolicking in the warm waves. The story had catered to every male’s most wicked fantasies, and the gossip that circulated about her was lurid and disgusting.

Harriet would never live it down.

“Would you two be serious?”Harriet griped. “I have to tell you something important. I need your advice.”

“About what?”Fanny asked once they stopped chortling.

“About my visitor. Charles sent her.”

The mention of their father was always riveting. Phillip was the only one who had a meaningful connection with Charles. Fanny, Helen, and Harriet were still learning their way with him.

He was not easy to know or like, and because of his immoral character and disregard for their mothers, they had suffered enormously. Yet they were trying to create a family, and Charles was front and center.

“Charles sent you a visitor?”Helen inquired. “How very odd.”

“Yes—a Miss Sarah Teasdale.”

Fanny frowned. “Where have I heard that name?”

Helen answered for Harriet. “Didn’t Phillip travel to their home over the summer? Didn’t they lose their estate to Jean Pierre?”

“Yes,”Harriet said, “and Miss Teasdale is in love with him.”

“Oh, no,”Helen groaned. “What did she want?”

“She wants me to save his life.”

Helen gasped as Fanny murmured, “Well, that’s certainly a fine burden to dump on you.”

“Save his life…how?”Helen said.

“I’m one of the few people in the world who can accurately identify him.”

“
Can
you identify him?”

“Absolutely. He looks just like Tristan, but like all of us, too.”

Fanny scowled. “How does Miss Teasdale think
you
could save him? He’s incarcerated under maximum guard, and he’ll hang immediately after he’s convicted. The scaffold is already built.”

“She begged me to lie at his trial and swear he’s not the man who attacked us.”

There was a shocked silence. Then Helen asked, “What did you tell her?”

“I can’t decide. I had to hear your thoughts before I talk to Tristan. I don’t have to speculate as to what his opinion will be.”

“To let Jean Pierre die?”

“Yes,”Harriet said, “but it seems so wrong. He’s our brother.”

“Our dangerous, violent, murdering brother,”Fanny countered.

“He had a hard life, Fanny.”

“We all did.”

“You grew up in a vicarage, with kindly, adoptive parents. Helen and I grew up at a boarding school.
He
grew up an orphan on the streets of Paris. Our histories aren’t comparable.”

“No, I suppose they’re not.”

“What would have become of the three of us if Phillip hadn’t found us? I, for one, would probably have wound up a felon myself and transported to Australia.”

Before she’d met Tristan, Harriet had nearly been ravished by her employer. She’d bashed him over the head with a frying pan and, for a long while, had believed she’d killed him. The evil man would have been happy to have her prosecuted and jailed, but Tristan had rescued her.

“So what are you saying, Harriet?”Fanny asked. “You’d like to help Jean Pierre?”

“No, I’m saying I feel sorry for him. What should I do about it?”

Helen and Fanny stared at each other, then Fanny said, “I couldn’t let him perish.”

But Helen warned, “What if he was released and started another crime spree after he was freed? Any blood he spilled would be on your hands.”

“I worried about that,”Harriet replied, “but Miss Teasdale claims she could make him stop.”

“She assumes she could
change
him?”Fanny asked.

“Yes.”

“That’s boastfully naïve of her.”

“And very humorous,”Helen added. “We’re closely acquainted with a few Harcourt and Sinclair males. It’s not possible to change them.”

“Don’t forget,”Fanny said, “that Jean Pierre is related to both families, so he’s doubly cursed with stubbornness. Miss Teasdale is doomed to fail.”