Marguerite took a deep breath. "Confession? May I ask what you had to confess, Jack? You never told me anything about a confession."
He jumped up from the bed and came across to her. But she was not going to allow him to kiss away her hurt. Not this time. She held him off with an outstretched hand. "We are married, Jack. There should be no secrets between husband and wife. But it seems that there are. You have been hiding something from me. I suspected there was something, soon after we arrived at the Park. And now I see that I was right."
He coloured. "Um. Yes. But I had reasons. Until Dominic returned, there was nothing I could say. Not even to you."
"Why not?" she retorted. "Is your brother more important than your wife?"
"No, of course not. But I had done something very stupid. And I was honour-bound to tell him first, before anyone else. I lost a fortune at the gaming tables, you see. I fortune I did not have, needless to say. It happened a few days before we had to leave for Vienna, so Leo had to pledge pretty much everything he owned in order to bail me out. There was no time to do anything else."
Marguerite wasn't listening to most of what he said. That one single terrible sentence was echoing round in her head. He had lied to her. It was the worst kind of betrayal. "You swore to me that you do not gamble," she said bleakly.
She sank down onto her stool and dropped her head into her hands. But she would not weep. Even for this. She was stronger than that.
"And I do not," he protested. "I swore to Leo that I would stop. And I have. Ask him if you doubt me. In all the time we spent in Vienna, I did not go near the gaming tables. Not once. Believe me, my dearest, I do not gamble any more. I would not risk what we have for such empty pleasures. Gambling is a diversion for men who cannot find a woman to love."
Her heart began to pound. She raised her head. "Is it? Truly?"
He came to kneel at her feet and dropped his head into her lap. "Truly," he murmured.
There could be no more doubts. She did believe him. She began to stroke his hair. Neither of them spoke for a long time.
"Tell me what Dominic said. I imagine he was very angry at what you did?"
He raised his head a little and looked up at her. "He was furious, but mostly because Leo had towed me out of River Tick and had not told him about it. You've seen how Dominic can pucker up when he feels he is not being given his due as head of the family? Sometimes, he's utterly formidable—he was with me, I'll admit—but sometimes, with family, he makes a joke of it. That was what he did with Leo. The poor fellow was on the point of rushing off to round up our private army when Dominic asked—just a passing remark, you understand—whether Leo was planning to mention my gambling debts one of these days. Leo's jaw almost hit the floor." Jack chuckled. He was clearly seeing the scene again in his mind's eye. "Dominic will take on the debt and pay it. Leo's pledges are to be redeemed."
"Dominic is generous. And Leo agreed to this?"
"Leo had no choice." Jack chuckled. "When Dominic lays down the law, in his grand Duke of Calder manner, we younger brothers know better than to argue."
"I see." She gulped. "So how much do we owe to Dominic? And how are we to repay him?"
Jack stretched up and planted a smacking kiss on her lips. "We owe him nothing. Nothing at all. He has forgiven the debt. What's more, you are to be mistress of your own household again, my love. Dominic is giving us the Four Oaks estate, as a wedding present."
"But he cannot—"
"That's what I said, too. Didn't work. Dominic says it's a debt of honour to Papa. He'd promised Papa that he would make us both independent." Jack shook his head and added, "Once we were old enough, and sober enough, not to waste our substance, that is. Apparently, Dominic has decided that, since I was sober and sensible enough to marry a wonderful woman like you, I am now a fit owner for Four Oaks." He rose to his feet and kissed her again. "Thank you, my love. You have secured our independence. As well as my happiness."
An estate of their own. Marguerite could hardly believe it.
"We will go there as soon as I return from France. Provided, of course, that you ladies have not burnt the Park down in our absence. Mama tells me that she is delighted to have three daughters. Much more fun than three boring sons. I suspect she is plotting mischief."
"I promise that the Park will still be standing, Jack. But…how long will you be gone? You will take care, will you not?"
"Have no fears, love. Leo is the best shot in England, and Dominic isn't far behind. And we're taking a dozen stout fellows from the estate, just in case we meet local opposition. We will be well defended. More to the point, your mama and sister will be well defended, too. Dominic is determined to bring them back to you. And so am I."
Marguerite sighed. "I do worry about them. Very much. I want them to be here, with us, and safe."
"They will be. Very soon."
"How long, do you think?"
"Not long. I dare say we will be in Lyons within the week, as long as the tides are not against us." He grimaced. "Once we're on dry land, we'll be travelling fast. It should not take many days to reach Lyons. The return journey may take longer, I suppose. It will depend on your mama."
"Oh. Yes, of course. She can be, er, a little difficult. She may not want to leave."
"Have no fear on that score, love. Dominic has a plan."
"Does he? But Mama is not one to take orders, even from a duke. She—"
Jack grinned at her. "When you come to know Dominic better, you will understand that his plans are very well thought out. And that they usually work."
Marguerite shook her head. She was not at all convinced.
In the face of her resistance, Jack was forced to explain Dominic's plan. By the end of his recital, she was laughing. And so was he. "Even you have to admit that it is a good plan. Don't you agree, love? I promise that we will bring them off safe."
Marguerite nodded. She was too moved to speak. Instead, she turned back to her mirror and started randomly pulling pins out of her hair.
Jack moved behind her, standing close. He said nothing more, but his presence was comforting. His hands came to rest gently on her bare shoulders, stilling her busy fingers. It was a solemn promise. And it meant everything. Reassured, she leaned back into his strength.
She would not think about the risks to Jack or to the rest of her family. This mad dash would succeed. The Aikenhead Honours would rescue her family. She knew that now, in her bones.
And this was her last night with her husband for weeks, possibly longer. It needed to be special. "If you are to leave at first light, you will need your sleep, my love. We should perhaps …er… retire now?"
Jack muttered something, low in his throat. Since it was barely a croak, Marguerite could not make out the words, even though they were in French. He had moved even closer to her, so close that she could feel the warmth of his body through the layers of his evening dress and the fine silk of her gown. Her own body was starting to respond again, but she kept her eyes on her mirror and went back to pulling at her hairpins. After a moment, she closed her eyes to work by touch alone. For this special night, she wanted all her senses to be making memories.
She heard Jack's quick intake of breath as her curls tumbled down her neck and brushed across his fingers.
Then the hands on her shoulders were no longer at rest. They were stroking across her bare skin and lifting her into his arms for a long, drugging kiss. When, at last, he raised his head, his eyes were dark with passion. "Marguerite, ma chère épouse. Je t'aime à la folie, tu sais? Et pour toujours."
Marguerite had to swallow hard in order to get her words out. But they came from the heart. "Moi aussi, mon amour. À tout jamais."
THE END
Historical Note
Napoleon Bonaparte sailed from Elba to land in France at 5 p.m. on Wednesday 1 March 1815, fulfilling the promise he had made a year earlier to return with the violets. He was careful to avoid the well-defended port of Toulon. Instead, he landed a Golfe-Ju
an, between Cannes and Antibes, with about 1000 men, more than half of them from the Imperial Guard. They spent the next two days scrambling over the mountains, en route for Gap and the road to Grenoble and Lyons. Napoleon had judged, correctly, that the King's forces would not look for him away from the main routes. By the time news of his escape reached Paris, three days after he landed, Napoleon was already nearly 100 miles inland. Thus began the Hundred Days.
The historical events I have shown in His Forbidden Liaison happened much as I have described. When Napoleon met his first opposing royalist troops, south of Grenoble, he did challenge them to shoot him, though the sources differ on precisely what he said. The soldiers rallied to him, as did the regiment that was waiting for him in Grenoble. In Lyons, the troops changed sides even before Napoleon arrived; the King's brother, who was supposed to lead them against Napoleon, decamped for Paris instead. Napoleon remained some days in Lyons, issuing decrees and summoning the parliament to Paris. He also summoned his wife and son back from Vienna—though, if you have read Leo's story, His Reluctant Mistress, you will know that that did not go quite according to plan.
By the time Napoleon reached Paris, on Monday 20 March 1815, his journey had become a triumphal royal progress. Not a shot had been fired. The regiments sent to oppose him along the route from Fontainebleau to Paris presented arms instead. At 10.30 p.m. he was carried shoulder-high into the Tuileries palace. His eyes were shut, and he was smiling.
Since other European capitals did not have the French telegraph system, news took many days to reach them and was often inaccurate. In London, Jack's eyewitness testimony would have been vital. In Paris, the Duchess of Courland set out for Vienna on the same day King Louis XVIII fled the country. More than five days later, on Good Friday, 24 March 1815, she arrived with the news of Napoleon's imminent triumph in Paris. By Easter Sunday, a new Allied Coalition had been formed and the Duke of Wellington had been appointed commander-in-chief. Little more than a week after that, Wellington was back in Brussels to take command of the army.
Very soon, it was over. Napoleon lost the battle of Waterloo—on 18 June 1815—though, as Wellington admitted, it was a damned close-run thing.
The Aikenhead Honours Series
A Brotherhood of Spies
Driven by duty—tamed by love?
Book 4
His Silken Seduction
Ben Dexter—wounded, abandoned, a baron in disguise. In the enemy's bed.
Ben Dexter, heir to a viscount, is the most junior member of the Aikenhead Honours and Wellington's spy in Lyons in the spring of 1815. When Ben is badly wounded, he assumes the identity of a German traveller in order to survive. He has little choice, for he is sheltering alone in a weavers' household that supports the enemy, the newly-returned Emperor Napoleon.
Ben's nurse is a beautiful silk-weaver. Day after day, her hands caress his battered flesh. Her touch is driving him wild. But she's the enemy. She must not discover who he is. Surely she will betray him?
He has a choice—duty, or desire.
Will he dare to trust her with his life, his mission, and his heart?
An extended edition of the ebook originally published by Harlequin S.A. in 2009
Click here to see at your local Amazon
Dear Reader : from Joanna Maitland
If you enjoyed His Forbidden Liaison, I'd be really grateful if you could leave a review at your usual online store or on your favourite reader website. Your review can help other readers to find and enjoy my books, too.
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Thank you!
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Joanna Maitland Titles
Regency Historicals
Unsuitable Matches Series
A Penniless Prospect†
Marrying the Major*
Rake's Reward*
Star Crossed Lovers
My Lady Angel†
Bride of the Solway†
Star Crossed at Twilight
The Aikenhead Honours
His Cavalry Lady
His Reluctant Mistress
His Forbidden Liaison
His Silken Seduction
Individual Stories
A Poor Relation†
The Earl's Mistletoe Bride*
A Regency Invitation
[with Nicola Cornick & Elizabeth Rolls]
* new ebook edition coming soon
† titles available as Mills & Boon/Harlequin Historicals
Other Joanna Maitland Stories
Lady in Lace ~ Regency Timeslip
One Christmas Tree to Go ~ Victorian Timeslip
[Novella in Libertà Books anthology: I Hate Christmas]
I, Vampire ~ Romance with Bite
[Novella in Libertà Books anthology: Beach Hut Surprise]
His Forbidden Liaison: A brotherhood of spies in Napoleonic France (The Aikenhead Honours Book 3) Page 26