Noble Satyr: A Georgian Historical Romance (46 page)

“Yes, my dearest one,” soothed his wife,
though her eyes were brimful of laughter. She accepted a dish of
coffee from her brother, addressing herself to him. “I have so many
questions to ask.”

“And so do I!” stated his lordship waving a
forked slice of ham at bride and groom.

“First you must tell us all about your
travels,” Antonia demanded. “Did you go to Florence, and to Venice,
and Milan, too? How was your crossing of the Alps? Oh, tell us
everything!”

Lady Estée looked to her husband who
swallowed up the rest of the ham and graciously consented to be
narrator. He leaned back in his chair, a dish of coffee in his
hand. “We did so many things I hardly know where to begin, Madame
la Duchesse.”

“
Parbleu
. How formal it sounds to
call me that! I feel very important of a sudden.”

“You are, chit!” nodded his lordship. “And
don’t you forget it.”

“Now that is Vallentine,” Antonia said with
a gurgle of laughter. She put her hand on the Duke’s who raised it
to his lips. “Must Vallentine call me Madame la Duchesse?”

“If that is your wish,” Roxton told her and
kissed her fingers a second time. “But you may condescend to allow
him the use of your name as a brother-in-law’s privilege.”

Lord Vallentine gave a forced, deprecating
cough and glanced at his wife. “When you have quite finished I’ll
go on with my story!”

Antonia flashed him an imperious look. “This
is not Paris, m’sieur! As Monseigneur and I are now married you
cannot be offended in the least.”

“Well met, my love!” applauded Estée and
ignored the frowning look from her lord.

“Look here, Estée. In Paris it was you, and
not I, who disapproved this pair’s match!”

“And you know very well why that was,
Lucian. I admit I was wrong but I—”

“Oho! My wife admits she was wrong!”

“Please, Vallentine, will you not go on with
your story?” Antonia coaxed.

“Our travels? Yes! Firstly, I must tell you
we’ve carried with us all the way from Venice a damned enormous
trunk of your belongings. Confound the thing!” said his lordship
without heat. “It’s from Strathsay’s palazzo and the Casparti
assured us your grandfather would want you to have its contents. Be
bound it’s full of books! Rare editions and such, and there are
some jewelry pieces too. Whatever, it weighs a blasted
elephant!”

“Maria!” interrupted Antonia excitedly and
put down knife and fork. “She is well? She did not go to a nunnery
after all? She is residing at the palazzo you say?”

“In high style. Strathsay left it to her in
his will, and a goodly sum for its upkeep. A nunnery?” snorted
Vallentine. “Banish the thought! She has four, or was it five?
attentive suitors. But my money’s on Count di Marchesin. Slippery
customer is the Count. But the Casparti has a mind to become
respectable at last. You know the type, Roxton,” he said as an
aside, a knowing look at the Duke.

“That will do, Lucian,” said his wife
anxiously. But Antonia’s next words made her wonder why she
bothered to try and shield the girl.

“I hope this count is good to her,” said
Antonia. “She suffered much when Grandpapa fell ill. I am glad she
decided against becoming a nun. It is not in her nature to be
chaste. Her talents, they would have been greatly wasted in a
nunnery. Would they not, Monseigneur?”

“I cannot speak from—er—experience, my love.
But, yes, she has that reputation.”

“She sent you a letter,” continued
Vallentine and pushed aside the plate and refilled his coffee dish.
“She made me promise you will write and tell her how you get
on.”

Antonia clapped her hands in delight. “She
will be so surprised at my news!”

“Without doubt,” commented the Duke with a
crooked smile. “If I recall she was not particularly favorable of
my—er—involvement in your flight from Versailles.”

“She does not know you as I do,” Antonia
said firmly. “I will write and tell her everything.”

Roxton’s mouth twitched. “I trust,
not—er—everything.”

“If—you—please!” Vallentine said primly.
“Estée, it is as well we came when we did. Someone must uphold
certain standards in this family.”

The Duke mocked him. “God forbid,
Vallentine.”

Before his lordship had an opportunity to
respond Estée told him to go on with his story.

“Aye. The Casparti proved useful in helping
locate that damme lawyer. She enlisted Di Marchesin’s assistance
and he got onto the fellow pronto.”

Roxton laid aside his coffee dish in its
saucer. “All is as I anticipated?”

“Couldn’t be better,” said Vallentine with
pride. “I think you will be well satisfied with Moran’s original
will.”

“The guardianship?”

“As I told you in my letter. Moran left his
daughter in the care of the second Earl of Strathsay. Names the
fellow. Damme awful name Theophilus. But I like the man. Stolid
disposition, but I like him. Got your eyes, chit,” he said with a
grin at Antonia.

“Then the Comte de Salvan can no longer
threaten…”

“He has no claim on you, my love,” said the
Duke soothingly and caressed her cheek. “There is no power on earth
that can drag us apart now.” He turned to his sister. “You stayed
in Paris on your way to London. What is being said?”

Lady Estée hesitated and the Vallentines
exchanged a hurried glance that did not go unnoticed by the
Duke.

“You know Paris as well as any, Roxton,”
said his lordship in an off-hand manner. “What isn’t being said,
eh? Don’t regard it m’self. I’ll tell you soon enough, but first I
want to know why you couldn’t wait until our arrival to wed the
minx. I think you owe us that much for trudging all the way to
Venice and back.”

Roxton raised an eyebrow. “I thought that
obvious, Vallentine. And my butler informs me you are some—er—two
weeks overdue.”

“Two weeks and four days,” Antonia
corrected. “And that makes it a little over twelve weeks since I
left Paris and last saw Madame and Vallentine.”

The Duke looked at her in some surprise. “I
was unaware you were counting the days, petite.”

“I have not—I mean—females just know—know
these things,” she answered haltingly and went back to drinking her
coffee.

“That long, eh?” mused Vallentine. “Though,
don’t try and tell us you haven’t preferred the delay! Driving off
friends and relatives from your door; not sending word to London. I
think you owe all of us an explanation of what you’ve been up to
down here. Well, not precisely—that, so you damn well needn’t
pretend to be shocked by my meaning, Roxton! Just tell us about the
ceremony and have done grinning at me in that macabre way of
yours!”

“I will tell you,” Antonia volunteered.
“Monseigneur and I were married in the Elizabethan Garden. There is
a ruin that was once a chapel, oh, many hundreds of years ago. King
Henri, he had it torn down when he broke with the church in Rome
over his divorce from the Spanish woman—”

“Ain’t she marvelous!” his lordship declared
with a crack of laughter. “I ask for details of her bridal and she
launches into a history lesson! I expected a monologue on the gown
you wore, chit. Most females give you that, but a hist—”

Antonia waved an impatient hand at him.
“
Eh bien
! What has my gown got to do with anything? Renard,
Vallentine’s brain, it is full of trivialities just like
Grandmamma’s.”

“Eh? Now don’t start casting me in the same
mold as that titian-haired termagant!”

“Will you please permit Antonia to tell her
story,” said Estée. “What did you wear, child?”

“Charlotte, she tried to have me wear the
oyster silk gown Maurice made for me. But I chose the petticoats of
gold tissue and the open-robed gown of embroidered damask. And
Monseigneur gave me a wondrous string of pearls that once belonged
to his maman.”

“I know the ones—the Alston pearls.”

“I knew we’d get to the gown in the end,”
muttered Vallentine.

“The Elizabethan Garden,
chérie
?”
prompted the Duke.

“Oh! Yes! This fat little clergyman from the
parish married us. He was very nervous I think. For he sweated
considerably and he bowed too many times to M’sieur le Duc. That
only made you angry, did it not, Monseigneur?” Antonia’s eyes
sparkled mischief. “But I think Monseigneur was only angry because
he was even more nervous than m’sieur the clergyman.”

“I can understand that,” said Vallentine
sympathetically. “Wouldn’t be natural if a man ain’t nervous on his
wedding day. Don’t get married everyday; don’t want to. Damned
harrowing experience! Gives me the goose bumps to think back on the
whole business.”

“To listen to you one would think it was the
hangman you stood before, not a priest,” Estée chided. “Go on,
Antonia. We won’t interrupt again.”

“Please do not, or the telling will be
longer than was the ceremony,” said Antonia loftily. “It was held
in the afternoon when all the guests had gone away exhausted from
playing all the cricket. But Grandmamma would not go. She did not
want to leave without Charlotte and Theo, who acted as the
witnesses. But Monseigneur would not have her. So she went away in
a temper, and in an unbelievable dramatic display. It truly was
unbelievable. I have never seen Monseigneur so angry with anyone as
he was with her.”

“Antonia. I believe my sister and Vallentine
have been given an adequate picture of my—er—condition,”
interrupted Roxton with a self-conscious frown.

Lord Vallentine gave a low whistle. “That
nervous, Roxton.”

Antonia shrugged. “There is nothing else to
tell. Charlotte and Theo returned to London after the ceremony, and
Monseigneur and I eloped to the west wing. That was very clever of
us! We have been here ever since. Simple, yes?”

“Simple and effective,” agreed Lord
Vallentine. “Half Paris has wagered you’re in the south of France,
Roxton; and t’other half think you’ve gone into Italy.”

“No one believes you are still in England,”
added Estée encouragingly, her brother’s expression telling her
nothing of what he was thinking. “And when we left London we told
no one our destination, so you need not worry that we were
followed.”

“Need I be worried, Estée?” asked the
Duke.

“This ain’t the time to go into all that,”
said his lordship brusquely, and pushed back his chair. “Plenty of
time to discuss everything! What say you to a ride about the
estate, Roxton? The two of you could benefit from a good dose of
fresh air. Cooped up in here, sleeping your days away, can’t be
good for anyone—honeymoon or no!” He dragged Estée up from her
chair and headed for the door before the couple could say anything
to the contrary. “Meet you down at the stables!”

“Lucian, you cannot put off telling them. My
brother, he will want to know the news of Paris,” whispered his
wife as she was escorted from the room by a firm hand.

“Not in front of the girl,” counseled Lord
Vallentine with a hard set to his mouth Estée knew only too well,
so she said nothing further. “This ain’t the time or the place to
discuss the Salvans. I’ll speak to Roxton privately, after our
ride. Can’t get his attention with Antonia about.” He smiled down
at her. “Pair of lovedy-birds, ain’t they. Never thought to see
your brother besotted. Acts like a young blood! Just like when we
were all in Paris together. Can’t keep his eyes off her, damme! I
don’t blame him. Never seen her so ravishingly pretty.” He frowned
at a sudden thought, “Jesus! Those Salvans need to be taught a
damned good lesson once and for all time! I’ve a notion—”

“No, Lucian. It is not for you to do
anything. My brother, he will know what to do. He always does.”

Vallentine nodded. But at the door to their
apartments he stopped and looked at his wife with a frown. “Do you
think she’s turned him soft?” he asked with a significant jab at
his temple.

“Soft? The Duke?” Estée uttered in alarm.
“Antonia was right. You are old in the head!”

The Duke was being helped into jockey-boots
when Antonia entered the dressing room and sat down on the settee.
She had not changed her sacque for a riding habit but wore a velvet
day gown of apple green striped petticoats. She carried a parasol
and gloves and fiddled with these until Ellicott had completed his
tasks and was waved away. Roxton did not immediately get up from
the dressing table but sat regarding Antonia’s reflection in the
looking glass, a deep crease between his dark brows.

“
Chérie
, you are not unwell?”

She looked up swiftly. “N-no. Why do you say
so? I thought I would take Grey and Tan for a walk to the lake to
see the swans,” she explained. “I promised them yesterday, and I do
not much feel like riding out today. But Vallentine, he would be
disappointed if you did not go. Do you mind that I do not
ride?”