by L. M. Pruitt
CHAPTER EIGHT
Later that evening, I stood at the threshold of Sophie’s doorway and sighed. “Do you have any idea of what time it is, ma cocette?”
“No.” She giggled and wiggled her toes under the small mountain of sheets and blankets. “I cannot read the clock yet. I am too little.”
“I am always astounded as to how you are either too little or not little at all depending on which response will save you from a scolding.” The Duke leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms and frowning. “I think, Marguerite, we have unwittingly created a politician.”
“Please, dearest, I don’t wish to have nightmares this evening.” Patting his shoulder, I crossed the room to perch on the edge of her mattress. I pulled up the covers nearly to her chin, ignoring her giggles as I tucked them tight around her and smoothed them in to place. “Now, daughter mine, it has been a long day and your Papa and I would very much like to seek our own beds.”
“But I am not tired, Mama.” She scowled at me, the expression so much like her father’s it was impossible not to smile. “I want to hear another story.”
“From what I understand, Addy has already told you three, which is two more than usual.” The Duke strolled over to join me, or so I thought, until he laid down next to Sophie, cuddling her against him. “Is there any particular reason you are so loathe to drift off to the land of dreams, where you would be able to create your own stories?”
“No.” Sophie’s scowl shifted to a pout and she sniffled, her gaze all but glued to a spot on the coverlet. “Yes.”
“Well, then—tell your Mama and I what troubles you and we shall fix it.” The Duke glanced at me, smiling for a split second before assuming his serious mien once more. “That is, after all, what Mamas and Papas are for, is it not?”
Sophie sniffled again before scooting closer to her father. “I do not want to see the mean man again.”
“What mean man, ma cocette?” I maneuvered myself until I was able to sit next to her, ignoring the sudden bite of my stays as they dug in to my ribs. “Come now, tell us and we will make it all better.”
“The one who came to see you before dinner.” She rubbed one red-rimmed eye with a tiny fist, the gesture and the accompanying yawn exposing her earlier lie. “He looked like an angel but he was mean.”
“The Vicomte?” It was difficult to tell who was more surprised, myself or the Duke. He did, however, recover first, stroking her cheek. “I did not know you met our guest, little one.”
“I was hiding under Mama’s desk, being very quiet so Emily would not find me.” She wiggled and squirmed until she was able to free her arms, scooting close and hugging me. “But he still heard me and he came and talked to me.”
“Did he?” The Duke did not raise his voice. The warm comfort on his face did not dissolve. And yet I shivered at the quiet menace Sophie was, thankfully, too young to hear. “And what did he say to you, the man who looked like an angel?”
“He said….” She trailed off, letting out a deep, shuddery breath. When she spoke again, her voice was barely audible and thick with tears. “He said I was an abobimation and one day soon I would burn like all the other animals.”
The slew of curses that burst from the Duke was so virulent and unrecognizable I knew he had reverted to his native Provencal. I shot him a glare as Sophie cowered against me, not surprised to see the normally miniscule red band around his blue iris had expanded, obliterating any white space. “Grégoire, control yourself.”
I watched him struggle to rein in his rage, the red slowly contracting. His hand trembled as he stroked Sophie’s curls, his voice preternaturally quite when he spoke again. “The man lied, my darling. He was not an angel and he lied to you.”
“Your Papa is right, sweetheart.” Scooping her up, I settled Sophie in my lap, rocking her as she continued to cry. “The man lied. You are precious and loved and your Papa and I will always protect you.”
“You have nothing to fear, daughter.” Shifting her from my lap to his, the Duke rose, settling her on his hip as he paced the room. “Now, I will tell you one last story and tuck you in nice and tight.” He kissed her tear stained cheeks, forcing a watery giggle from her. “And you may sleep with the light on, if you wish.”
Once I was sure Sophie would not notice my absence, I slipped from the room, not surprised to find Emily and Adelaide hovering in the hall. Gesturing for them to follow me, I waited until we were ensconced in Sophie’s classroom before speaking. “Addy, I appreciate you staying with Sophie while the Duke and I were at dinner but you should seek your own bed now.”
“Pardon my saying so, Miss Marguerite, but I’m just as responsible for Miss Sophie as Emily.” Crossing her arms, Adelaide lifted her chin, humphing under her breath. “You can’t scold one of us without scolding the other.”
“First, neither of you are children, so I am not scolding so much as expressing my annoyance and dissatisfaction.” I took a deep breath, struggling to keep a tight grip on my own anger. While I was more than slightly upset with Emily, the vast majority of my rage was reserved for the Vicomte. Taking it out on the nursemaid would only make me feel guilty later. “Second, we have discussed this before—while you are, without doubt, highly important to both Sophie and myself, you are not the individual tasked with ensuring my daughter does not wander through the house unsupervised.”
“I’m so sorry, Miss Marguerite.” Emily’s dark brown eyes watered briefly before she blinked the tears away. After ten years as a part of my household, she was well aware of my feelings concerning crying while being reprimanded. “I was organizing her closet and she was supposed to be putting her toys away and--.”
“I am not interested in your excuses, Emily.” I snapped the words out before I was able to bite my tongue, the stranglehold I had on my temper slipping. The color drained from her already pale cheeks until she seemed nearly translucent. “This is not the first time you have been derelict in your duties and when the evidence is considered I daresay it won’t be the last.”
“Now, Miss Marguerite--.”
“Addy, I have made my feelings regarding your participation in this discussion quite clear.” I clenched my hands together, my nails digging in to my skin. “If you are unable to remain silent, then please leave.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Adelaide nodded, the very stiffness of the simple gesture telegraphing more plainly than any words her disappointment in me. “I’ll see myself out.”
The door closed behind her with a distinctive snap and I resisted the urge to rub my temple. This evening was fast becoming the sort which would require a dose of medicine and a quiet room. Inhaling and exhaling with deliberate slowness, I said, “Emily, if you are unable to care for my daughter, please say so.”
“You know I love Miss Sophie.” Emily clutched her apron, twisting and wringing the soft gray fabric until I wouldn’t have been surprised if it was permanently wrinkled. “I was there in the room when she was born. I was the first person to hold her after you and the Duke.”
“That is not what I asked.” In spite of my efforts, my voice rose, echoing through the quiet room. “Can you or can you not care for my daughter in the manner I have deemed appropriate?”
“Not by myself, Miss Marguerite.” She shook her head, a single tear trailing down her cheek, her lower lip trembling. “I’m sorry, I am, but she has too much of her father in her. No one person could keep up with her.”
“I see.” Pursing my lips, I nodded. “You will continue as her nursemaid until I am able to find a suitable replacement. At that time, you may either transition to another area of the household or you are free to seek employment elsewhere.”
“Yes, Miss Marguerite.” Bowing her head, she swallowed hard. “Is there any other way I can be of service, Madame?”
“Not this evening.” Stepping to one side, I gestured at the door. “You’re dismissed. I’d advise you to seek your bed.”
“Yes, Madame.” Keeping her gaze averted, she exite
d the room, leaving the door open behind her.
I had time to take only a single breath before the Duke knocked on the doorframe. He glanced at me for the barest of seconds before wincing. “Is it safe to enter, little daisy, or should I first don my armor from the War?”
“I’m not in the mood for jokes, Grégoire.” I rubbed my forehead again before finally giving in to my exhaustion and lowering myself to the nearby chair. “Is Sophie asleep?”
“She is, although she insisted on having both of her stuffed puppies with her.” His somewhat comic expression died away, leaving behind the same barely banked fury I knew showed on my face. “She has not done that for ages.”
“I want him dead, Grégoire.” I dug my nails in to the rolled arms of the chair, my knuckles creaking in protest. “I will tolerate his attacks on my heritage and my character. I will not tolerate him terrorizing my child in my home.”
“I will speak with Bienvenu and--.”
“I do not care what the King says!” I surged to my feet, my entire body shaking from the ferocity of my anger. “That man is evil! He is a scourge, a poison, and I want him wiped from the face of the Earth!”
“And you think I do not?” He stormed in to the room, grabbing my shoulders and shaking me none too gently. “If I was not concerned with what the King would do to us, I would hunt Balogh down like the dog he is and kill him in the streets!”
“And what do you think the King will do when He hears of this latest insult? Add more time to the Vicomte’s exile?” I laughed bitterly, shaking my head. “After all other attempts have failed, that will be what finally forces him to correct his behavior.”
“I do not know what Bienvenu will do to the Vicomte but I am very sure of what He would do to me if I were to follow through on your request.” Closing his eyes, he leaned in, pressing his forehead to mine. “What He would do to you. There is no vengeance in the world worth that.”
I closed my eyes as well, breathing him in. Despite the anger still coursing through my veins, the familiar scent began to calm me. And the calm led to a thought. I opened my eyes to find him studying me with quiet intent. “Is it possible for you to invite the King to a private dinner? Something informal, perhaps? Simply Bienvenu and Benedict?”
“It has been quite some time since the King had what He calls one of His little ‘adventures’.” He smiled slowly, his fangs peeking out. “I’m sure He would be very amenable to the idea.”
“I know Sophie will be ecstatic to show them both how much work she’s done on the dollhouse they gave her for her last birthday.” Returning his smile, I straightened the lapels of his waistcoat before smoothing down the crushed velvet. “She does, however, have a tendency to prattle on while she’s playing.”
“I’m sure the King will forgive her if she says something amiss.” Reaching up, he twirled a loose curl around a finger, his smile growing wider. “We must make sure she has all the furniture for the front parlor completed.” He kissed me, quick and hard, before chuckling. “We are a pair, you and I.”
“Yes, we are.” Sliding my arm around his waist, I steered us toward the door and, hopefully, bed. “How unfortunate the Vicomte did not choose to remember that before declaring war.”
CHAPTER NINE
“Why are you awake so early?”
I paused in the middle of pinning my hair, glancing over my shoulder at the Duke, still sprawled across the mattress. “It’s the middle of the month, dearest.”
He stared at me for a moment before understanding dawned. Flopping back on the pillows, he said, “Ah. Yes. The day when you risk life and limb in an attempt to soothe your overactive conscience.”
“Some would say my conscience is non-existent.” Turning back to the mirror, I studied my reflection before sliding another half dozen pins in to the tightly knotted mass atop my head. When I was satisfied nothing short of a gale force wind would loosen it, I opened the jewelry box where I kept my mother’s pieces. Pulling out the simple pearl seed earrings, I said, “It’s one day a month, Grégoire. I don’t understand why this bothers you so.”
“Perhaps because I am always bothered when I must be concerned for your well-being.”
“Oh, stop.” Huffing out a breath, I spun to face him. “You act as if I am going in to a war zone instead of a church.”
“The human district is a war zone. It has always been a war zone and I have very little doubt it will continue to be one.” He sat up, the sheets falling to his waist. He raked a hand through his hair, still disheveled from sleep and our exertions the previous evening. “You know there have been rumors of civil unrest for quite some time.”
“To borrow from you, Your Grace, there have always been rumors of civil unrest.” Rising, I crossed to the bed, perching on the edge of the mattress. I arched a brow, staring at him as imperiously as possible, considering I was still in my robe and he was all but nude. “After fifteen years, I pay them almost as much attention as you do.”
“Despite what you may think, I actually do pay attention to the state of affairs in the human district. It is, after all, one of the primary tent posts of my vocation.” Leaning forward, he stroked a single finger down my cheek, smiling when I shivered. “And since we can agree I am very good at both my avocation and my vocation, would you please do me the kindness of following my subtle advice and cancelling your visit?”
“You do realize if you point out the subtlety of a thing you have, in fact, destroyed said subtleness.” I laughed and kissed him when he groaned. “Dearest, I will take all the guards you wish. I will follow all their orders and I will leave if there is so much as a hint of danger. But I will not cease my charity work.”
“I don’t suppose it has occurred to you that many would consider your school to be a form of charity.”
“Considering how much money I make, I would call those people wrong.” Kissing him again, I stood and walked to the far wall, pulling the cord which would summon Grace from her room. “I will be home in time for lunch, as I always am.”
“Unfortunately, I will not be able to join you.” Flinging the sheet aside, he stood and stretched, completely unconcerned with his nudity. When I coughed and nodded at the pulley, reminding him of my maid’s impending arrival, he sighed and shrugged in to his robe. “I will be spending the day with Henri finalizing the plans for Nicolae’s visit.”
“I shall leave instructions with Cook to prepare your favorite meal for dinner.” When he raised his brows and flashed me a wolfish grin, I rolled my eyes. “Besides that, Your Grace.”
“As long as I may have my true favorite meal for dessert.” Crossing over to me, he captured my mouth with his, not ending the kiss until the door opened and someone—more than likely Grace—gasped. Pulling back, he tapped my nose and winked. “Until this evening, my little daisy.”
I watched as he left through our joined closet for his own dressing room, admiring the movement of his body under the thin robe. When Grace cleared her throat, I shook my head sharply before turning to her with a smile. “Good morning. I’m sorry to wake you so early but I’m afraid I need your help in order to make myself presentable enough for my visit at the church.”
“Oh, it’s no trouble, Miss Marguerite.” Closing the door behind her, she bustled over to the wardrobe containing my corsets and stays. “I just wasn’t prepared for the Duke.”
I laughed as I stripped out of the robe, snagging the chemise I’d remembered to lay out the night before. “One never is, darling. One never is.”
“I’m sorry, Lady Saint-Laurent.” Octavian, the oldest member of the Duke’s personal guard in more ways than one, reentered the carriage, taking the seat opposite mine. “Apparently there was a block-wide riot last night and they’re still in the process of cleaning things up. The police chief has granted us permission to be rerouted and is sending a dozen officers with us.”
“That wasn’t necessary, Octavian.” I glanced up from the fashion plates I’d been browsing to pass the time. “You know I don�
��t require special treatment while we’re in the district.”
“And you know, my lady, that if the Duke were to find out I had been even somewhat lax in your safety he would have my head, in both the figurative and literal sense.” His smile was so brief as to almost be a figment of the imagination, his face solemn and serious. “But you may set your mind at ease. I used the Duke’s name and title and not your own.”
“Hmm, well, I suppose it will have to do.” Marking my page, I set the magazine aside and sighed. “Tell me, Octavian, do you find these trips of mine as annoying and pointless as the Duke?”
“I believe the Duke is simply concerned about your safety, my lady.” He smiled again, a real smile, when I snorted. “Truthfully, my lady?”
“Truthfully.”
“The Duke was reborn nearly three hundred and fifty years ago. I myself was reborn almost two hundred years ago.” Octavian scratched his chin, frowning. “We have been driven from numerous countries, our friends and companions killed, simply because humans could not handle the reality of our existence.” He shrugged. “It makes it difficult to feel sympathy now that the order of things has been reversed.”
“I am not asking the Duke to sympathize with those living in the district. I simply….” I trailed off, shifting my gaze to the covered window. One of Grégoire’s hard and fast rules was the shades must always be drawn, no matter the time of day. “I would have ended up here if things had been different. If my house had not been in that exact location, if someone other than the Duke had been assigned the position of alderman….”
“If the Union army had won the First Battle of Antietam or there had been a decisive victory at the First Battle of Gettysburg….” He sighed and shook his head. “We could find a hundred, a thousand, events which might have changed the course of history, my lady. That does not mean we must make amends for our good fortune.”