Three Little Secrets (12 page)

How Madeleine wished she felt the same. How she wished the mere sight of him did not make her heart ache from the flood of old, sweet memories. She wondered if he had any regrets at all about what had happened between them so long ago. Had he ever meant to be her husband? Or had Papa’s unexpected arrival in Gretna Green given him a way out and a way to have what he really wanted, all at the same time? That was the one question she would like to ask him. Perhaps she would. Perhaps she would just screw up her courage and ask.

She could still remember the smells and sounds of the old inn at Gretna Green, even the creak of the ancient floorboards seemed forever fixed in her memory. And she could still see the letter Papa had tossed down on her narrow, rickety bed with a disdainful flick of his wrist. He thought Madeleine a fool, and he told her so. She had fallen, he told her, for the oldest trick in the book. The only hope of a penniless young man was to marry for money.

“Where d-did you get this?” Madeleine had asked her father, sniffing back tears as she read it.

“I paid for it,” he had snapped. “And damned generously, too.”

The letter had been addressed to one of London’s most prominent architects, a gentleman named Wilkerson who was opening a new firm to design and construct magnificent buildings all over London. And Merrick, apparently, had been invited to join. But opening such a business was a costly venture. Each partner would be required to front a large sum of money. Merrick’s letter had promised he would be able to produce a bank draft by the first week of August.

Madeleine had been married on the twenty-second of July. Merrick had timed his seduction well. No wonder he had rushed off first thing that morning to ready the horses. But the frightening thing was, Madeleine almost did not care. It had hurt, yes, and more than a little. But even the realization that Merrick had married her for her money had not lessened her desire to be with him.

“It’s not too late, Madeleine,” he father had insisted. Against her protests, his servants had already begun packing her things. “I’ve hushed this business up, though it’s cost me a bloody fortune. And I’ve agreed to give MacLachlan his goddamned thirty thousand, much as it grieves me. In return, he’s agreed to an annulment.”

“An-an
annulment
—?” Madeleine had been crying in earnest by then. “What is that?”

“Just leave it to me, girl,” he father had snapped. “Now for pity’s sake, stop sniveling, and dress. I’ll take you back to Sheffield. Lord Henry Winters will be back in Town by the spring. Thank God it is not too late to salvage this mess.”

But Madeleine had refused, thinking that Merrick would return; that he would burst indignantly into the room and declare it all a lie. But he never came back. No doubt his shame at having been bought off had kept him away. And in the end, Madeleine’s father had ordered his footmen to carry Madeleine bodily from the room, the room in which she had last gazed upon her husband’s face. Until that awful Thursday two weeks past.

And now she was living within half a mile of him. Of her husband. Dear God, could it be true?

But what did it matter? The awful truth was, in her heart, he always had been her husband. In her heart, she had never moved beyond that one sweet day in Gretna Green, when life had held such joy and promise. A part of her—the foolish part—had never stopped loving him, never stopped yearning for the rush of desire she had so fleetingly known in his embrace. Even now, in merely looking at him, she could feel her breath catch and her stomach bottom out. But beneath it all was that simmering rage, that awful sense of betrayal, which she had tried to numb by turning her energy to the raising of her child and the simple tasks of living an everyday life.

From across the table, his gaze caught hers, dark and demanding. For an instant, she could not get her breath. For an instant, they were alone in the room, and time had spun away. It was as if her innermost confessions had just flung open a door; some sort of portal to the past which she had kept carefully shut all these long and lonely years. Now, suddenly, it had burst open. Dear God.

She did not realize she was still staring at him until Helene recalled her to the present. “Will you have a little sliver of Stilton, Madeleine?” she asked, thrusting an assortment of cheeses in her direction. “It is quite excellent.”

But Madeleine’s hands were trembling. She dared not take up so much as her wineglass. “No, thank you.”

Helene set the platter away. “Well, shall we retire to the yellow parlor, and leave the gentlemen to their port?”

“I think that would be wise,” she managed to say.

Forcing away her memories, Madeleine rose, and motioned for Geoff to follow. His lower lip came out a fraction, but he did as she had bid. Lady Ariane, too, flounced from the room, looking perhaps a little less put out.

“Mamma,” she said, when they had settled down with a tray of coffee, “I wish to show Geoff the
tarocchi.
May I?”

Helene looked less than pleased. “I think not, Ariane,” she said as she poured Madeleine’s coffee. “Why do you not play at backgammon or chess?”

“Oh, poo!” said the girl. “We are so tired of those games. Why may I not show Geoff the
tarocchi
? Aunt Catherine gave it to me so that I might practice.”

Helene looked at Madeleine almost apologetically. “It is a set of fortune-telling cards,” she said. “My husband’s sister bought them back from Tuscany.”

“I once met a woman in Campania who had quite a way with those things,” said Madeleine. “It was just a tad unsettling. But they are harmless amusements, I am sure.”

Lips still pursed, Helene gave a tight nod in Lady Ariane’s direction. “Very well,” she said. “But remember, it is nothing but a game.”

Looking very pleased, the girl went to a burnished wooden box on the bookcase and returned with a pack of cards. “First I shall tell Geoff’s fortune,” she said, pulling a small game table to the center of the room. “Nonna Sofia taught me how to lay out the cards.”

“Sofia is Catherine’s mother-in-law,” Helene explained to Madeleine as Geoff helped unfold the tabletop. “And something of a mischievous old crone, too. My husband thinks her quite mad.”

Madeleine was intrigued. “And what does Catherine think?”

Helene shifted her gaze. “Catherine believes the old woman has some sort of unnatural ability,” she admitted. “I confess, she can frighten you with—well, let us call them her insights.”

As Helene began to speak idly of the shops they might visit the following day, Lady Ariane asked Geoff to cut the cards. Madeleine watched from the corner of her eye as the girl began to lay them out in a horizontal row. Soon the game table was covered. The girl began to turn them up in no particular order Madeleine could discern. The cards were vividly colored, and captioned in a foreign language.

“This card means that you have recently moved from a faraway place,” said the girl authoritatively.

“But you already knew that!” Geoff protested, causing Helene to suppress a mischievous smile.

“Shh!” Lady Ariane furrowed her brow. “I believe you will soon be going away again—”

“But I just got here,” Geoff interrupted.

“—and you will have a great adventure and learn many wondrous things,” she finished. “Ah, yes! I believe—I believe that you shall be going away to university.”

Geoff smiled. “Well, of course I shall
someday
,” he answered. “What else would I do?”

Lady Ariane shrugged, and continued to weave her story as she slowly turned the cards. Geoff’s destiny was in her hands, and with her veracity challenged, the girl began to embellish her tale. “Now, this very stern gentleman on the horse,” she went on, “is
il Cavaliere di Anfore
, the Knight of Chalices. This must be is your brother, Lord Bessett. He is very worried about you, and he stands ready to give you material and spiritual guidance.”

Geoff looked at her mischievously. “But Alvin has red hair,” he returned. “Bright, burning thatches of it. That chap is dark. Besides, Alvin never worried about anything a day in his life.”

“Pray do not be silly, Geoff.” Ariane waved her hand vaguely. “It is all meant to be symbolic.”

The more Geoff teased the girl, the wilder her tale grew. Soon there were great riches, travel to lands afar, and even a kidnapping by mysterious pirates or bandits or perhaps it might even be highwaymen. Lady Ariane was still pondering it when Madeleine turned back to her hostess.

“Your daughter seems enthralled,” she whispered. “It is quite charming.”

Helene lifted one shoulder in her usual French gesture. “She has been watching Nonna Sofia,” she said quietly. “But she does not really know what the cards mean. I am glad, though, that they are enjoying it.”

“Now I shall read my own fortune,” the girl announced.

“Are you permitted to do that?” Geoff chided. “Aren’t there some sort of fortune-telling rules that say you mustn’t?”

Ariane shook her head, and after shuffling and cutting the cards to the left, she began to lay them out again. Helene returned to the topic of shopping. She seemed quite persuaded that Ariane should have the new green dress. Madeleine tried to respond politely at each turn of their conversation, but something in Geoff’s posture began to draw her eyes.

He was looking decidedly pale now, and the teasing had stopped. He was no longer watching the cards. Instead, he was watching Lady Ariane’s face as if transfixed. Madeleine began to have a very ill feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“In any case, the dinner party is to be next week.” Helene’s voice barely cut into Madeleine’s consciousness. “You will just
adore
my sister-in-law Frederica. Do you think I ought to invite Mr. MacLachlan to even up our numbers? I think him dreadfully handsome, if one does not mind the dark, dangerous type.”

Geoff’s gaze had gone soft and distant. Suddenly, he caught Ariane’s hand. The girl looked at him strangely, and tried to draw away. Madeleine had to suppress the urge to fly across the room to them.

“Madeleine?” Helene’s voice was arch. “My dear, do you think him handsome or not?”

Madeleine’s head jerked around. “I—I beg your pardon, Helene. Who is handsome?”

Helene laughed lightly. “Mr. MacLachlan, silly girl! Now, do not pretend you did not hear what I said. After all, the man has scarcely taken his eyes off you all evening—and you’ve been little better.”

A sudden flash of motion caused them both to turn toward the game table. “But that is my Papa!” said Ariane sharply. “He
is
. That card is
il Re di Mazze.
The King of Wands. My authority figure. It can be no one else.”

Geoff dropped the girl’s hand as if it had burst into flames. “But your father—” He seemed unable to get his breath. “Your father…that cannot be. He is—he is dead.”

“Dead?”
the girl shrieked, leaping up such that she knocked the table sideways. “Geoffrey Archard, what a horrid thing to say!”

Geoff was blinking rapidly and looking rather dazed. “I—I am sorry!” he said. “I—what did I—Ariane, do sit down. I didn’t mean—or what I meant was—”

“Well, I know what you said!” The girl set her hands on her hips. “And you cannot take such a thing back, Geoffrey! Oh, you are the horridest, vilest boy I ever did meet in all my life!”

Madeleine had leapt from the sofa, and gone to the game table. “I am so sorry, Lady Ariane,” she said, kneeling to pick the cards from the floor. “Geoff did not mean—well, whatever he said, he did not mean it. His—his mind was elsewhere. Was it not, my love?”

“My mind was elsewhere,” Geoff repeated mechanically. “Oh, Ariane, please do not be angry. I forgot where—what—what we were doing. I—I touched your hand. I’m sorry. It just—it just mixes me up sometimes.”

Madeleine restored the cards to the table, and looked to Helene for support. But Helene had gone deathly white. She was staring at Geoffrey as if he had just sprouted horns and spewed hellfire out his nose. Lady Ariane had slammed her cards back into the wooden box.

“Oh, Helene, do forgive us!” said Madeleine, returning to the sofa. “Geoff is young. He—he was just teasing, and did it badly.”

Helene seemed to snap from her trance. “I—yes, of course, my dear,” she said, forcing a smile. “He is just a child. What can children know? Ariane, kindly get out the backgammon. I do not like those cards.”

Ariane eyed Geoff nastily. “There is nothing wrong with the cards,” she said, her tone petulant.

Helene lifted both brows. “I said
kindly get out the backgammon,
” she repeated in a no-nonsense tone. “Those cards—they have upset Geoffrey. And me. Now be a good hostess.”

Ariane hung her head. “I am sorry, Geoff,” she said. “I—I know you were just teasing.”

“But I did it badly,” he muttered. “It was not funny, I know. I cannot think what came over me.”

Ariane looked mollified and went to the shelf for the backgammon set. Madeleine still stood between them, trying not to wring her hands.

“I think perhaps we ought to go, Helene,” she said. “We have had such a lovely afternoon and evening with you. But I think we are all very tired. I know that Geoffrey is.”

Geoff was looking at her with utter remorse. “Mamma is right,” he said quietly. “I am a little tired.”

Helene smiled and rose gracefully from the sofa. “I completely understand,” she said, floating across the floor to kiss Madeleine’s cheek. “I will make your good-byes to my husband, and to Mr. MacLachlan. I cannot think what they are doing still in the dining room.”

“Hiding from us, most likely.” Madeleine flashed a rueful smile. With her eyes, she again asked Helene’s forgiveness, and was rewarded with a sincere hug.

Just then, the dining room door flew open. “How unforgivably rude we have been,” said the earl, opening his hands expansively. “We fell into a conversation about business, and time quite escaped us. Lady Bessett, please do not say you are leaving. The night is young, is it not?”

Madeleine was trying to look at the earl, and not at Merrick. Merrick, however, had no such compunction, and was staring at her quite overtly. “I am afraid Geoffrey needs his rest, my lord,” Madeleine managed to say. “And we have intruded upon your hospitality quite long enough.”