Unfastening her cloak before he could stop her, his former mistress wore a gown meant to seduce. The Circassion wrapper dress, the latest rage among London’s fashionmongers, looked like a night chemise. Its front, composed entirely of lace, was shaped to her bosom.
There had been a time not too long ago when he had considered her one of the most beautiful women in the world. Now John stared at her display with insulting indifference.
Set off by that luxurious ebony mane, Lisette’s startling emerald eyes reminded him of Lily’s. Other than appearance, Lily and Lisette were as different as day and night.
“John, I’m so happy to see you,” Lisette said in her husky voice, her hips swaying as she closed the distance between them.
“Call me Your Grace.”
Her back stiffened at his rebuke, but her feline smile never wavered. “You don’t find me attractive?”
“I’m wondering what attracted me to you in the first place,” he said. “What do you want?”
“My daughter, of course.”
“I’m keeping her.”
“You cannot keep a child who doesn’t belong to you,” Lisette said.
“I have two hundred witnesses who can testify that you abandoned our daughter to me,” John said. “The magistrate won’t look kindly on your suit.”
“Lily is no daughter of yours,” Lisette insisted.
“Who sired her is insignificant,” John countered. “I am adopting her.”
“Lily needs her mother.”
“She’s found another.”
“No one can replace me in her affections,” Lisette said, her confidence apparent.
“I wouldn’t bet on that.”
“You can have her for one hundred thousand pounds.”
“I’ve already got her,” John said. “You have nothing with which to negotiate.”
“The law is on my side,” Lisette said.
“Get out of here now,” John warned, “before I lose my temper.”
The sultry-eyed beauty leveled a murderous glare on him. She stormed out of the study and slammed the door behind her.
John stared at the door. Why had he ever been attracted to such a mercenary bitch? The only good and fine thing to come out of that liaison had been Lily.
While John was confronting Lisette, Isabelle and Lily enjoyed the garden just below the study’s window. Isabelle played her flute, and Lily danced to the vibrating melody that sounded like the rustling of falling leaves.
As she ended her dance, Lily tossed a handful of leaves into the air and shouted, “Hooray!” Spying something unusual on the lawn, Lily scooped it into her hand and marched across the garden to Isabelle.
“What’s this?” she asked, holding the green elongated object up.
“See that maple tree over there?” Isabelle said, pointing toward the tree and then lifting the object out of the girl’s hand. “These are the maple’s winged seeds, called keys. Keys always come in pairs. See?” She broke the winged seed into two halves. “If we open this inner part, we’ll find sticky liquid inside. I like to stick it on top of my nose like this.” Isabelle demonstrated by sticking the opened winged seed on the tip of her nose.
Lily giggled. “Open mine for me.”
Isabelle opened the maple’s keys and tucked one half on the little girl’s nose. The two of them laughed.
“I want to walk around the house and knock on the front door,” Lily said. “When Dobbs opens the door, he’ll scream in fright.”
“Very well, we’ll go together,” Isabelle said.
Lily nodded and dashed across the garden to the stairs. Isabelle followed slowly, her pregnancy tiring her during the afternoons.
“Hurry,” Giselle warned. “Danger is near.”
Panicking, Isabelle ran up the stairs. “Mama, save me,” she heard Lily shriek.
Isabelle raced around the corner of the house onto Park Lane. Lisette Dupree was dragging a struggling Lily toward a waiting coach.
“Help! She’s stealing my daughter,” Isabelle cried, running down the street.
The carriage moved forward into traffic just as Isabelle reached it. She leapt back to save herself from being run over and landed on her backside.
John raced down the front stairs. His brother and his solicitor followed two steps behind him.
“Lisette grabbed Lily,” Isabelle shouted from where she sat on the ground.
“Matthews, help my wife,” John ordered without breaking stride. He started to run down the street after Lisette’s coach, but Ross caught him from behind.
“Release me.” John tried to shrug his brother off. Ross held on, and John watched the coach disappear from sight.
“What the bloody hell are you doing?” John demanded when his brother released him. “The bitch stole my daughter.”
“Were you planning on chasing the coach to Lisette’s?” Ross asked. “How many hundreds of witnesses could she call into court to testify to the fact that you’re mad and unfit to care for Lily?”
Isabelle kept her gaze fixed on her husband. Though she wanted Lily returned to her immediately, she breathed a sigh of relief when he nodded at his brother. She’d worried that her husband would strike Lisette. Or worse.
“Are you hurt?” John asked, putting his arm around her.
“I’m fine,” Isabelle assured him.
John allowed his brother and his solicitor to lead them inside the townhouse. The four of them stood in the foyer to discuss what should be done.
“We must retrieve your daughter by legal means,” Matthews said.
“I don’t give a damn for legalities,” John said. “Let’s pay the bitch what she wants and have done with it.”
“Lisette will come back for more when the money is gone,” Ross said.
“Two hundred wedding guests witnessed Lisette Dupre’s announcement and abandonment of the child,” Matthews said. “We’ll go to the magistrate, present him with the facts, and ask for temporary custody. I can almost guarantee that your daughter will be home tonight. Once she’s returned, I’ll negotiate with Lisette for permanent custody.”
John nodded in agreement and then turned to Isabelle. “We’ll be back as soon as we fetch Lily.”
Isabelle worried her bottom lip as she watched them leave. Ignoring Dobbs and Juniper, who stood nearby, she climbed the stairs and sought the privacy of her bedchamber.
Isabelle locked the door behind her. Then she leaned back against its comforting solidness and took a deep breath.
Disturbing thoughts raced through her mind. So many things could go wrong. What if the magistrate was busy? What if he refused to grant them temporary custody? What if Lily was not returned home by nightfall?
Whenever you need me, I will be with you faster than an eye can blink.
“Giselle. Are you here?”
Silence.
“Giselle, I need you!”
Chapter 18
“Lower your voice, child. You’ll rouse the dead.”
Isabelle saw the old woman sitting in her favorite chair in front of the hearth. Hurrying to her, she knelt on the floor beside the chair.
“Lisette abducted Lily,” Isabelle told her, touching the old crone’s gnarled hand, desperation tingeing her voice. “My husband has gone to get a magistrate’s order for temporary custody, but I cannot wait. Wait if the magistrate refuses? Lily will believe that we abandoned her, too. Will you help me?”
“Yes, I’ll help.” Giselle patted her hand turned her head to stare into the darkened hearth as if she needed time to think.
Isabelle watched her in silence and, as the moments ticked by, grew increasingly nervous. If only John had gone after Lisette, Lily would be home with them at that very moment. And if only she hadn’t allowed Lily to walk ahead of her to the front door. What if Giselle couldn’t formulate a plan?
“Have you so little faith in me?” Giselle asked, giving her a sidelong glance.
Isabelle blushed at having been caught thinking unkind thoughts.
“I am sorry for my lapse in faith.”
“I forgive you.” The crone’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “I have a plan.”
“I knew you would think of something,” Isabelle said, brightening. “What should I do?”
“Go as quickly as you can to Grosvenor Square.”
“Grosvenor Square?” Isabelle echoed.
Giselle nodded. “You cannot confront Lisette Dupre alone. The dowager and her sister will accompany you.”
“The dowager is an old woman,” Isabelle said. “How can she help?”
“Never denigrate the aged,” the old woman told her. “Experience can outsmart youth any day of the week.”
“I cannot involve my husband’s mother in this,” Isabelle refused, shaking her head.
“I’ve said this many times before—you humans are a tiresome lot. You snivel and whine and plead for divine guidance, but do you ever follow it?”
“I’m sorry, but the dowager cannot—”
“The dowager has vast experience and myriad tricks at her disposal,” Giselle interrupted. “Trust me, child. Her ingenuity will surprise you.”
“What do you know about the dowager?” Isabelle asked, narrowing her gaze on the old woman.
Giselle gave her an ambiguous smile. “Are you going to sit there all evening? Or are you planning on rescuing your adopted daughter?”
“Very well, I’ll trust you on this.” Isabelle stood. “Are you coming along?”
“I wouldn’t miss the fun for all the harp music in Heaven.” With those words, Giselle vanished as if she’d never been there.
Isabelle grabbed her black hooded cloak. Pressing her ear to the door, she listened for activity in the corridor. There was none. She opened it a crack and peered outside. No servant was about. Isabelle stepped into the corridor and closed the door.
Isabelle glided down the corridor to the servant’s staircase and then descended to the ground level. She would need to cut through the kitchen. At the bottom of the stairs, the noise from inside the kitchen was louder as her husband’s staff prepared for supper.
Steeling herself with a deep breath, Isabelle pasted a serene expression onto her face and stepped inside the kitchen. All conversation ceased, and surprised gazes turned to her.
“Continue with your duties.” Isabelle marched through the kitchen, dismissing the staff with a casual wave of her hand.
Escaping out the door that led to the garden area, Isabelle stepped out of sight of any curious servants who might be watching. She paused to lean back against the side of the house. Her heart pounded frantically within her chest and breathing was difficult.
It’s the babe mingled with my guilt. Lord, she would never make a competent criminal. Sneaking around like this made her nervous.
“Are we going to rescue Lily or not?”
Isabelle gasped and her hands flew to her chest. She raised a finger to shush the old woman, who burst out laughing at the gesture.
“No one can hear me but you.”
Isabelle nodded at her old friend and scurried across the area to the stairs. Reaching the street, she pulled the hood of her cloak up to cover her blond hair. She didn’t want to be recognized by any passersby.
Autumn’s late-afternoon sun cast lengthening shadows, and Isabelle looked up at the sky to judge the hour. The sun would be setting in no more than two hours, and she wanted Lily back before nightfall.
Grosvenor Square lay only two blocks to the east. Ten minutes later, Isabelle stood outside her mother-in-law’s mansion. She hurried up the front stairs and banged on the door.
When the door opened, Randolph, the dowager’s majordomo, stood there. Isabelle brushed past him into the foyer.
“Just a minute, miss—”
Isabelle whirled around and flicked the hood off her head. “Yes, Randolph?”
“I am sorry, Your Grace,” the man apologized. “I didn’t recognize you.” He glanced out the open door. “Where is your carriage?”
“I walked. Where is Her Grace?”
“Her Grace and Lady Montague are in the drawing room.”
Isabelle dashed up the grand staircase to the second floor and then down the corridor. “I need your help,” she cried, bursting into the drawing room. “Lisette has abducted Lily.”
The two older women turned to stare at her. Finally, the dowager said, “Calm yourself, Isabelle.”
“Extreme agitation isn’t good for the baby,” Hester said.
“You don’t understand.” Isabelle hurried across the room toward them.
“Sit down,” the dowager ordered, pointing to a chair. “Tell us what happened.”
“Lisette Dupre came to Saint-Germain Court and abducted Lily,” Isabelle told them, sitting on the edge of the chair. “John and his solicitor have gone to the magistrate’s to procure temporary custody, but I cannot leave Lily in that woman’s care for even one night.” At that, she burst into tears.
“Control yourself,” the dowager ordered, waving a handkerchief in front of Isabelle’s face. “We cannot solve this problem if you insist on weeping.”
“Weeping isn’t good for the baby,” Hester added.
The dowager rounded on her sister. “Silence, you peagoose.”
“That isn’t a very nice thing to call your only sister.”
The dowager rolled her eyes. “I apologize.”
“I forgive you.”
Wiping her tears, Isabelle sniffled and smiled at their byplay. She loved these two elderly aristocrats. Aunt Hester’s wonderful simplicity always tickled her emotions.
The dowager rose from her chair and crossed the room to tug on the bell pull. A moment later, a footman walked into the drawing room.
“Jeeves, tell Randolph to fetch me my big reticule,” the dowager ordered. “Then have my carriage brought around.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“I want my big reticule too,” Aunt Hester called.
Jeeves turned around and nodded in acknowledgment of the second order.
After the man had gone, Isabelle turned to her mother-in-law. “His name is really Jeeves?”
“I call all of my footmen Jeeves,” the dowager told her. “It’s easier to remember. Shall we go and fetch my granddaughter?”
Isabelle rose from her chair, and the three of them left the drawing room. They reached the main foyer, where Randolph was waiting with two of the biggest reticules Isabelle had ever seen.
“Be careful, Your Grace,” the man said, opening the door for them.
“Thank you, Randolph. I will be as careful as I am skillful.”
“Very good, Your Grace.”
Isabelle looked from the majordomo to the dowager. The man had no knowledge of where they were going. Why would he tell his lady to be careful?
“Where does Lisette live?” the dowager asked, once they were seated in the carriage.
Isabelle stared blankly at her mother-in-law. How could she have been so stupid to forget she needed the woman’s address?
“Fifteen Soho Square, child.”
“Fifteen Soho Square,” Isabelle answered.
The dowager turned to the waiting coachman, who said, “I know the street, Your Grace.”
Fifteen minutes later, the dowager’s coach halted in front of Lisette’s house. The coachman opened the door and, in turn, assisted each of them down.
Isabelle started up the front steps, but the dowager’s hand on her arm stopped her. “Walk behind me,” the dowager ordered. “I’ll handle this matter.”
Isabelle inclined her head and deferred to her husband’s mother. She fell into step behind her, and Aunt Hester followed. Giselle had advised her to trust the dowager’s vast experience, and so she would.
The dowager grabbed the door knocker and banged, demanding entrance. The door opened to reveal a middle-aged woman, obviously the housekeeper.
“May I help you?” the woman asked.
Without bothering to answer, the dowager brushed past the woman. Isabelle and Hester
slipped inside behind her.
“What do you think you’re doing?” the woman asked. “This is private property.”
The dowager whirled around and arched a brow at the woman’s impertinence, reminding Isabelle of her husband. “Where is your mistress?”
“State your business,” the woman said.
“Do you know who we are?” the dowager asked, narrowing her gaze on the servant. “I am the dowager Duchess of Avon.” She gestured to Isabelle and Hester. “This is the Duchess of Avon and Lady Montague, widow of the late earl. Now, where is Lisette?”
“I apologize, Your Grace,” the woman said, flustered. “Lisette is—”
“I’m here.”
Isabelle saw Lisette Dupre, ravishingly beautiful, descending the stairs to the foyer. Watching her, Isabelle felt a tinge of jealousy that John had once been involved with her.
“Alice, open the door for them,” Lisette said, crossing the foyer. “The ladies won’t be staying.”
“Where is Lily?” Isabelle demanded.
Lisette glared at her. “My daughter is in her bedchamber. If you—”
“Alice, fetch the child,” the dowager interrupted.
“Stay where you are, Alice.” Lisette dropped her gaze to their enormous reticules. “Unless John has sent you here with what I want.”
Isabelle watched her mother-in-law fix a frigid smile on Lisette. The dowager lifted her reticule and opened it. Instead of money, the old aristocrat pulled out a pistol and pointed it at Lisette.
“What are you doing?” Isabelle cried, appalled by the prospect of the dowager doing violence to another. And then she noticed Aunt Hester’s pistol trained on the ebony-haired beauty.
“Do you want Lily or not?” the dowager asked her.
“Yes, I want her.”
“Then kindly let me handle this,” the dowager said. “Alice, fetch the child here.”
Alice glanced at her mistress. Lisette glared at the dowager, but then nodded at her servant.
“This is beyond absurd,” Lisette said. “Abduction is illegal.”
“The aristocracy has always been privileged enough to stretch the law a bit,” the dowager said, her tone haughty.
Lisette smirked. “Do you even know how to use that thing?”
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