“Damn, father,” Robert encouraged him with a grin. “I am frankly amused at seeing this side of you.”
“Amused?” The duke shifted in his chair showing his discomfort in being exposed. He took another sip of his drink and continued. “I had been informed that his business was going bankrupt and arranged to dig him out of the hole by becoming a silent investor.”
“That’s what you meant about losing your money,” Robert pondered.
“So I made a business transaction with your uncle in exchange for sending Philippe off to the West Indies on a ruse to close the deal.” The duke snickered and shook his head. “God, I was a deceitful bastard, wasn’t I?”
“Then you had mother all to yourself, and one thing led to another.” Contentment sparkled in his father’s eyes. He retained no hint of regret in winning her heart.
“She didn’t love Philippe. I knew when we reunited that I wanted both of you to be my family for the rest of my life.” He paused momentarily, hardening his voice. “I didn’t steal her from anyone. Her heart had always been mine.”
“Had you no affection for Jacquelyn at all?” Robert struggled with the hard-heartedness his father displayed.
“I married out of duty, not love, and fully intended to divorce Jacquelyn. Your mother willingly came back to me, even though she, too, had married another.” His cheek twitched as if he wanted to smile but suppressed the urge. “Of course, I encouraged her to do so.”
“But…” Robert halted, afraid to point out how it had turned out so terribly painful for everyone involved.
“But what?”
The look in his eye challenged him to continue. Robert couldn’t bring himself to do so. As if his father sensed what he wished to know, he answered the question for him.
“I do not regret loving or marrying your mother, nor do I regret you as my son,” he answered with conviction. “I do, however, regret the consequences of that love, and how I deceitfully went about getting what I wanted.” He scowled. “I destroyed another man both directly and indirectly. Indirectly, I am as much to blame for Angelique’s kidnapping as any other.” He pulled his eyes away from Robert and looked at the empty glass in his hand. “Love carries a steep price, son. Be forewarned.”
After his father’s last words, it felt as if he had withdrawn from the room. Robert sensed the conversation had ended. In the last ten minutes, he had learned more about his father than he had known in a lifetime. Often his lectures had fallen on his deaf ears, but now he understood father’s motives. What he thought was utter control, had been a bid to save him from his own mistakes. It became clear that the hardened duke merely wanted to prevent the consequences of poor decisions in his life. It confirmed his uncle’s comment made only a few weeks ago.
His father rose to his feet and smiled at him. “I better not have another, or your mother will be scolding me for sure.”
Robert struggled with an overwhelming urge to embrace his father. He hadn’t felt that way since he was ten years old when he sent him off to boarding school. Nevertheless, the stubborn blood of his parent that flood through his veins instilled enough hesitation to forgo the show of affection. Instead, he rose and stood in front of his father, and offered his hand in a gentleman’s handshake.
The duke took one look and furrowed his brow. A second later, he clasped his hand and closed the gap between them. With one arm around his shoulder, his father gave him a hearty pat on the back and then withdrew.
“Go see your stepfather,” he whispered in a raspy voice.
His father turned to leave, and Robert spoke once more. “Things have turned out as they should,” he said, feeling compelled to offer comfort. His father returned a blank look, oblivious to the meaning behind his words.
Robert sat back down in the chair and heaved a troubled sigh. “What a fucking mess,” he muttered. “God, Jolene, I hope you know how you are going to bring this to a conclusion without another war ensuing between the wounded.”
After a few minutes of reflection, Robert rose to his feet and fingered the paper his father had given him. It was time to find Philippe.
Chapter 19
Family Heirlooms
As they sat around the dinner table their first evening together, Jolene had finally settled down into a peaceful state of mind. The duke, duchess, and Robert appeared to enjoy their accommodations. Her decision had been a wise one, along with her idea to rent for a two-month period. Hopefully, it would be ample time to execute her plans.
“Duchess, you indicated that you wished to visit your parents’ graves,” Jolene began a conversation. “May I ask where they are laid to rest?”
“Pere Lachaise Cemetery,” her mother replied.
“Is that far from where we are located? I am as unfamiliar with Paris as much as London.”
“It is about five kilometers from here.”
Impressed over her mother’s concise answer, she realized that the duchess had not forgotten the Paris landscape.
“It would appear, Lady von Lamberg, that you will need another tour guide,” the duke spoke lightheartedly. He glanced at Suzette. “Though I dare not speak for my wife, I’m sure she would be more than happy to accompany you if you desire to see anything in particular.”
“Well, I can show her too,” Robert interjected. “It’s not as if I don’t know Paris.”
Robert sounded miffed he had not been considered, which made Jolene wonder what he remembered about the city.
“No doubt your cousin Geoffrey, when he arrives, will be vying for the task as well,” the duchess remarked.
“Thank you for that vote of confidence,” Robert replied.
“I’m not sure what I wish to see,” Jolene clarified. She looked directly toward her mother. “You can be assured, though, that if I have any questions about the city, I shall come directly to the source.”
“I would be happy to answer anything you would like,” she coolly replied.
Their conversation had left the familiar and reverted to the formal. Perhaps Jolene’s uneasiness expressed earlier over her mother’s touch had caused the deterioration. Jolene attempted to soothe matters between them.
“Whenever you would like to visit the Pere Lachaise Cemetery, let the driver know. The motorcar is for everyone’s use.” She paused and continued with a sympathetic voice. “Duchess, if you would like someone to accompany you, I’d be pleased to stand by your side. I understand the death of one’s parent more than any other, having buried two in the past fifteen years.”
Robert glanced at Jolene with a questionable gaze and then looked at his mother waiting for her response. For a few moments, she contemplated the offer, but remained silent sipping her soup. Her obvious delay caused the duke to speak on her behalf.
“Suzette may want to visit alone, as she—”
“No, that’s all right, Robert,” she interrupted, placing her hand on his forearm. “Frankly, I think that I would like the company of another person. When I visit, I usually return in a morose mood. Perhaps sharing it with you is what I need to return in a better one.”
“Tomorrow then?” Jolene did not want to delay.
“Yes, that would be fine.”
“I will arrange it with the driver.”
The remainder of their dinner encompassed superficial chitchat. When it had ended, Robert set down his napkin and scooted back his chair. Surprised at his action, he held out his hand toward Jolene.
“I would thoroughly enjoy the opportunity of an after-dinner stroll in the garden. Would you accompany me?”
“Do you mind?” She turned toward the duke and duchess.
“No, not at all.” The duke replied, rising to his feet as Jolene stood. Her mother failed to comment either way.
* * * *
Robert offered his arm, and Jolene took it as he escorted her out the patio doors to the veranda overlooking the garden. The sun had fallen behind the neighboring buildings and shadows shrouded the foliage and pathway.
“Thank
God,” Robert exhaled. “I’ve been waiting to speak with you for hours.”
“Why?” She walked over to the rose bed and examined the flora.
“You seem so calm about this entire matter, Jolene. I, on the other hand, have turned into a worrisome sibling.”
“Well, I assure you, I had my own rather emotional episode after we arrived,” she mentioned.
“What episode?” His sister hesitated for some time with a scrunched brow.
“After our arrival, mother affectionately touched me on the arm. It bothered me.”
“Why?” Robert could not understand her reasoning.
“I don’t know,” she curtly replied. “It just did.”
Jolene reached out and felt the petals of a red rose between her thumb and index finger. “Everyone and everything is still a jumbled puzzle in my mind, and I guess I’m becoming frustrated trying to make pieces fit by shoving them into places they do not belong.”
“A puzzle? That’s an understatement,” Robert replied. “Father, after a few drinks this afternoon, had another confessional episode in the library.” Her distraction of playing with the flower abruptly ended. She grabbed his hand and pulled him over to a garden bench.
“Sit down and tell me,” she eagerly inquired.
“He expressed regret for the hurt he had caused Philippe.”
“Really? I find that surprising,” she said, straightening her spine in dispute. “From what I’ve read, my opinion has formed to the contrary. I doubt he considered the potential damage to Jacquelyn or Philippe. His love for mother blinded his good sense, if he had any.”
“Well, that’s quite harsh,” Robert countered with a scowl. “He didn’t even know I existed until by chance he passed Philippe in a park. I was with him that day and distinctly remember the encounter. It is burned into my memory.”
“I don’t understand what you mean that he didn’t know. What are you saying?”
Robert shifted his body in frustration. Being in Paris had resurrected his own ghosts from the past. Jolene appeared edgy. “Let’s change the subject,” he implored. He reached over and grabbed his sister’s hand.
“I have Philippe’s address.”
“You do?” Her face lit with excitement.
“Yes, father gave it to me.” He pulled the paper out of his pocket and held it in his hand. “Once again, he encouraged me to visit.”
“Will you?”
Robert held no doubt that he wanted to see Philippe, no matter what had transpired in the past. The fond memories of their relationship together were few. After all, he had been five years old and memories from childhood fade. Nevertheless, he clearly recalled the whipping he received for flipping over the bassinet. In retrospect, perhaps Philippe knew about his mother’s infidelity. No doubt, he had directed a lot of his anger toward his rear.
“You know, I think I will—that is if you don’t mind if I see him first.”
“No, I don’t mind, except that I am anxious to see him too. Nevertheless, I’ve committed to going with your mother to the cemetery tomorrow, so my time is hindered.”
A joint trip to the cemetery held no intrigue for Robert. Perhaps Jolene wanted more time alone with her to ask questions. “Well, why don’t I go tomorrow and let you know what I find out.” Robert opened the paper. “I have his last home and employment address. He apparently works at a cigar shop, of all places.” He read the street address. “It’s on Rue Saint Honoré, wherever the hell that is,” he said.
“I’ll have the car tomorrow, though, what shall you do?”
“Let me ask someone on the staff if they know the location. Should it be in walking distance, I could use the exercise. If not, I will hail a cab. Don’t worry.”
“Oh, Robert, we are so close.”
Her enthusiasm felt contagious. “You are carefully planning something to bring this all to a conclusion. How are you going to do it?”
A sly smile slowly spread across her face. “It depends on many factors, but I hope to bring them together and reveal who I am all at once. Then I expect them to behave like adults and allow me to bring our family together.”
“Oh, good luck with that,” Robert choked, hardly believing her scheme. “I suggest you have the French Legion standing by to maintain the peace,” he teased. There would be no way in hell all these sensitive people would come together like rational individuals. Did she envision they would ecstatically share a hug at the moment she announced her name? He shuddered to think of the explosive reactions.
“You jest,” she said, standing up. “Come and walk with me through the remainder of the gardens before it gets dark.”
“You’re going to need some kind of evidence besides a tattered letter and worn diary from a dead lady’s maid. I do not think that anyone will accept your word straightaway. They will think you have ulterior motives.”
“Well, you did,” she said smiling.
“Hmm,” he said, rubbing his chin. “I guess I did. But what convinced me were the obvious pieces fitting together in that puzzle of yours as the weeks progressed.”
“You need not worry, Robert. I have proof and infallible proof at that.” She bent over, plucked a single flower from the floral bed and began twirling it around.
“What proof?” She was teasing him with that damn flower as if she had one up on him.
“Jewelry.”
“What jewelry?”
She smirked. “Jacquelyn stole the Holland family jewels when she left your father. Did he not tell you?”
Flabbergasted over another revelation, he halted his step. “I had no idea there were any family jewels. Whatever I saw on mother, I assumed that father purchased for her as gifts.”
“No doubt he did, but Jacquelyn came to Austria with a collection of family jewels that dated back centuries. They are Holland heirlooms. A few she sold, Dorcas revealed in her diary, to survive when they first arrived. The remaining pieces my father kept in safekeeping until I had reached an age of responsibility. He gave them all to me.”
“Shit,” he gasped.
Jolene scowled.
“Oh, sorry,” he quickly apologized. “And you have them with you?”
She nodded affirmatively. “I’m sure your father will recognize them. All the pieces bear the letter ‘H’ and a crest on the back. I assumed they were the jeweler’s mark. It wasn’t until recently that I realized the ‘H’ stood for Holland.” A brisk breeze blew through the trees like an omen rustling the leaves.
“Jolene, you do realize that you are opening old wounds with everyone. What do you hope to accomplish in the end?”
She had pulled every petal off the bud until nothing remained but a green stem. The palm of her hand opened, and it dropped to the grass beneath her feet as if she had accomplished something symbolically.
“When I look at my life, I admit that I have not suffered any wounds from what happened to me. As a baby, I certainly did not notice any difference. When mother died—”
“Jacquelyn,” Robert interrupted, correcting her a bit annoyed.
“All right, Jacquelyn,” she briskly modified. “My memories are spotty bits of her presence in my life, the coffin, and the rose. Afterward, the count literally grafted me into his family tree.”
“You were the victim of a crime, but you profited from it the most. It’s almost ironic, when you think about it,” Robert said. He slipped his arm around her shoulder in a brotherly fashion attempting to give her comfort.
Jolene nodded. “I know.”
“You are intelligent and gorgeous, I might add.” Robert smiled endearingly at her. “And you have everything you possibly could need financially for the remainder of your life.”
“True,” she agreed, gazing off into a nearby bush. “But I am alone.”
He drew her closer with his hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to be alone, Jolene. You have a family now.”
“By blood but not in heart,” she replied, furrowing her brow.
“When al
l is revealed, what will you do then?” Robert dropped his arm and stepped back anticipating what he did not want to hear.
“My life is in Austria,” she quickly responded. “I have no desire to leave everything the count has entrusted to my care. I would feel as if I betrayed his love for me.”
“But what about your real father and mother?”
“I want them to know that it all turned out as it should have. The guilt they carry over my loss should cease, the anger and hatred toward one another over what happened should end. Reconciliation should flow between everyone involved. Not until that happens, will I truly open my heart in love to any of them. It’s just not in me.”
Jolene tilted her head into the evening breeze and closed her eyes. She appeared to be drying tears that threatened her calm demeanor. “You still feel no endearment toward my mother, do you?” Robert dolefully asked.
Her eyes opened sparkling with moisture. “It blows hot and cold. I hope to learn more about her when we visit the gravesites tomorrow. I’m going to see if she tells me about her childhood.”
“Well, you’ll know a hell of a lot more than me if she opens up.” Robert kicked a rock near his foot sending it a few feet into the flowerbed.
“What about the duke?” he asked in a deep voice, emphasizing duke jokingly.
“You would ask,” she teased. “All I can see is his hand between your mother’s legs and the other on her exposed breast.”
Robert laughed aloud, and Jolene joined in. Nevertheless, he felt awkward that she continued to harbor ill feelings toward his mother and father. As far as he was concerned, Jolene von Lamberg possessed her own set of faults. She had irrational hopes of righteous intervention into their family affairs, driven by her staunch sense of morality. Obviously, she had never loved a man or experienced the sensation of physical passion that can drive a person to make rash decisions. Because of it, she had become somewhat judgmental of their parents. Robert wondered if she would ever realize those faults.
“I don’t mean to say that I have not grown fond of you, dear brother,” she offered. “On the contrary, my feelings for you grow each day. Thank you for being by my side through this journey.”
The Price of Love Page 19