Tender the Storm (49 page)

"No," she said.

He sighed. "In its plainest terms, I am trying to tell you that those other women were merely a way of keeping
you
safe from
me."

Her brows arched. "How thoughtful English husbands must be!" she said with so much sarcasm that Rolfe winced.

Gritting his teeth, Rolfe pushed on. "I was growing too fond of you. I tried to stay away. But every
thing changed the night you came to my bed. Since that night, I have held to our marriage vows —and don't throw that woman in my teeth, I beg you. It was only a kiss, nothing more."

He waited for her to respond. When she said nothing but stared at him with those great dark eyes of hers, he said softly, "Zoë, say you believe me."

"I believe you," she said.

"Good, obedient girl!"

That startled a laugh out of her.

"I like it when you laugh. You don't smile or laugh nearly enough. Do you know that?"

The smile left her face. "I smile when the occasion merits it," she said. "There's been little enough to smile about in the last little while."

She rose to her feet and made some excuse to leave the room. He let her go. He was making progress he told himself. She was coming to trust him. He wasn't the complete reprobate she made out that he was. Surely she must be coming to see that? Soon, she would confide everything to him. She would tell him about her brother and her involvement, such as it was, in
La Compagnie.
He would save them both, of course. And there was the faint possibility that he might also restore her sister to her. In a very short while, he hoped to rise in Zoë's estimation to the perch he had occupied once before.

They would all make their home with him in England where they would live happily ever . . . He stopped before his thoughts could complete the trite phrase. He almost combed his fingers through his hair before he remembered that he was wearing a
wig. He swore vehemently. He was allowing himself to be swayed by his own wishes, not by logic.
Zoë.
She had yet to prove where her loyalties lay.

And yet, hadn't she proved her loyalty to him? She might easily have betrayed him to the French authorities or to her associates in
La Compagnie.
But there had been no move of any kind against him. Surely that said something about Zoë's character? Surely she must love him a little? He thought about the way she responded to his touch. His little Zoë loved him more than she was willing to admit. He would stake his life on it. A moment later, whistling, he quit the room.

On those occasions when Rolfe's presence was required at the Swedish embassy, Zoë was confined to the house. For the most part, she was pleased to obey him, having no wish to brave the salacious conversation of acquaintances who knew of her new lodger. She was, however, as firm as ever in her resolve to save Leon. And for this reason, she had to transfer funds to America and obtain false passports as soon as may be.

Rolfe was easily persuaded that there could be no harm in her calling on her friend, Francoise, or in consulting with her bankers to review her investments. And one fine afternoon in late May, Zoë set out, accompanied by Samson at Rolfe's insistence, to set things in motion for her flight to America.

The great banking house of Devereux stood on a corner opposite the Opera House. Its doors had been closed during the worst of the Terror and some months afterwards. Zoë could never forget that it was through the good offices of Charles Lagrange that her title to the largest share in Leon

Devereux's vast financial empire had been finally recognized.

That financial empire was substantially reduced since Britain and her allies had declared war on France. The Paris office was all that remained. Nevertheless, that one remaining branch was vigorous. Before Rolfe had forced his way into her life, Zoë had suggested
to
her directors that it was time for the branch to send out shoots. The New World was a fertile field.

She met with the chief director in his spacious office on the ground floor. It had once been her father's office. She tried not to let that thought color her thinking. Monsieur
xxx
Golbet was not an interloper, she told herself firmly. He was merely a male with all the prejudices of a member of that sex for his opposite gender.

Once seated, Zoë wasted no time on the civilities. "When may we expect Devereux's to open a branch in America?" she asked pointedly.

She felt her heartbeat quicken as she waited for Colbet's reply. She knew by the suave smile on his plump cheeks that she was about to be treated to condescension and evasions. She did not know very much about banking. But she had learned a thing or two about bluffing in the last little while. She forced herself to a calm she was far from feeling.

"My dear lady," said Colbert with something close to amusement, "you have no notion of the negotiations which are necessary before we embark on such an enterprise. You don't suppose that the Americans are about to let us open up shop just like that, do you?" and he snapped his fingers under her nose.

Zoë flinched, but covered it well. "My dear Monsieur Golbet," she droned, mimicking his patronizing tone exactly, "if Paul Varlet endorses it, I don't see why Devereux's cannot do it."

At the mention of the financier's name,
Colbet
straightened. "Varlet?" he said.

Zoë inclined her head gravely. In a conversational tone she went on, "Paul has sometimes remarked that Devereux's is too conservative by half. We have been resting on our laurels, Monsieur
Colbet
, content with the status quo. If we are not careful, our competitors will forge ahead of us."

Since this little speech of Zoë's was remarkably similar in content to one that Monsieur
Colbet
had delivered to Devereux's directors a week since, her words were met with smiles.

Zoë, misunderstanding, played her trump card. "I don't mind telling you, Monsieur
Colbet
, that I have been toying with the idea of selling out to Paul Varlet." She gave a telling sigh. "He promises to treble my capital with very little difficulty. If there is one good reason why I should not sell to him, I wish you would tell me."

Monsieur
Colbet
could think of one very good reason which he did not divulge to Zoë. Varlet was a man who brooked no opposition. Maurice
Colbet
and all Devereux's directors could expect short shrift from the financier once he took hold of the reins.

There was a material shift in Monsieur Colbet's manner. He became flatteringly accommodating. Even so, Zoë was disappointed. Notwithstanding bribes and other incentives to highly placed officials, it was far from certain that the Americans would look with favor on any overt move by Devereux's.

The political climate was against it, so Monsieur
Colbet
explained. Investment in some business enterprise was a different matter, if it were done discreetly. Devereux's, he assured Zoë, was more than eager to establish itself in the New World.

They talked at some length on how best this might be accomplished. Zoë raised the problem of transferring some part of her personal funds to a relative in Boston who had fallen on hard times. Monsieur
Colbet
was happy to inform her that this was easily arranged.

As
Colbet
went off to take care of the matter for Zoë, she began to rethink her position. Devereux's was her brother's birthright. She had hoped to secure some part of it for him by opening a branch in America. It had not occurred to her that there might be a long delay before anything could be done.

Leon could not delay. He must set off for America at once. She was not forgetting what Leon had told her —that
La Compagnie
would wreak its vengeance on Leon's relatives should he break faith with them. If this were so, then she must go with him. They would have some capital, but no share in her father's bank unless it could be arranged once they were settled.

Her next thoughts were of Rolfe. He was a complete puzzle to her. On the one hand, he held her up to public ridicule by broadcasting that she was his mistress. On the other hand, he respected her scruples. She was not his mistress. They had separate chambers. What was he up to?
she
wondered. And why now, when it was too late, did he offer explanations for his past conduct? More than once he
had mentioned that it was possible to overturn their divorce. She refused to entertain the hope that he was coming to love her. He would feel responsible for her. It was Rolfe's way. And she knew how Rolfe took care of his responsibilities. She would be sent to the Abbey.

In her mind's eye, she saw herself as Rolfe's wife, returning with him to England. She had a clear picture of the Abbey. For almost a full minute, she enjoyed the reverie. And then, she thought of her mother-in-law.

She was not the girl she had been when Rolfe had first set her down at the Abbey. She was more mature, more experienced, stronger. She would not retreat into herself if the dowager chose to challenge her now. ,

Shaking her head, she pulled herself up sharply. She was letting her imagination run away with her. Rolfe had not asked her to be his wife, and even if he should, she must think of Leon.

She had not told him of Leon. She did not have that right, just as she did not have the right to betray Rolfe's identity to Leon. In her own mind, she was free of the taint of deceit. She was doing her best to be loyal to them both.

For a moment or two, she gave into self-pity. She was so confused. It was all such a tangle —Rolfe, Leon, Claire,
La Compagnie,
Devereux's — and she did not know how it was to be unraveled. Hearing a step outside the door, she straightened her spine and swallowed her tears.

Monsieur
Colbet
returned with the intelligence that in due course, monies would be transferred by way of New Orleans to a bank of her choosing in
Boston in the name of one
Raoul
Devereux.

"It's rather a substantial sum," he remarked, making no attempt to disguise his curiosity.

"
Raoul
is my cousin," said Zoë evasively. "As I told you, his family has fallen on hard times."

There was only one more thing to be done before she took her leave of Monsieur
Colbet
. She allowed him to escort her to the door of his office, but stayed his hand when he made to open it.

"I wish to withdraw everything from my personal account and borrow against my next quarter's interest," she said.