“Why does an Englishman want to see me? I know no one in England.”
Danielle looked so incredulous Anne had to smile. “It does seem somewhat odd, but the gentleman was persuasive enough that I agreed to ask you.” She looked sympathetically at her companion. “My dear, at least hear the man out before we decide what next to do.”
“Will you stay with me?”
“Wild horses could not keep me away,” Anne declared. She rose and urged Danielle to her feet. “He will be here soon, but there is just time for us to get something to drink.” Anne had no doubt the mysterious Mr. Blackwell was unbearably punctual and was in all likelihood standing outside the gate this very minute!
~* * *~
Blackwell glanced at his pocket watch, straightened from his lean against the wall of the house opposite the Condessa’s, and crossed the street. No change in the routine that he had noticed; the Fenton’s called for the children at the usual time; the stolid Portuguese maid had left them at the gate, and the excited barking of the dog hinted at an exuberant reunion. Why then was he experiencing such unease?
Annoyed at his fancies, he put it down to the upcoming meeting. Naturally he felt some concern about the girl’s reaction. He rapped on the door, mildly surprised to have it opened immediately by Mrs. Fenton. He stepped inside, glanced around the empty courtyard, and at Mrs. Fenton’s curt nod and terse “Miss McKenzie and Miss Durant are in the house,” followed her to the small room where he had met with Miss McKenzie the previous day.
The two stood shoulder to shoulder by the window, in a not entirely unexpected aura of solidarity, and an air of protectiveness confirmed his surmise that Miss McKenzie was very attached to her pupil. At close study, Miss Durant was taller than he realized, with the budding curves of a young woman, and her face showed evidence of recent tears. Not a good sign.
“Miss McKenzie.”
“Mr. Blackwell.”
Amused at her regal nod, he stepped forward and held out his hand, forcing her to do the same, although her reluctance was evident, and her obvious annoyance when he clasped her hand just those few seconds beyond propriety was shamefully enjoyable.
“May I present my friend, Miss Durant? Danielle, this is Mr. Blackwell.”
Her expression warned him not to repeat his offense with her charge, and while he had the urge to do so, if only to see her reaction, he did not want to tease the child and nodded in a friendly manner in response to her stiff curtsey.
“Miss Durant.” An uncomfortable, short silence ensued. Blackwell was uncertain of his ground here and judging from her noncommittal expression, it seemed he was to receive no assistance from Miss McKenzie. What, if anything had she told the girl? And was she planning to remain with her during this conversation? Not something he had considered, assuming they would be meeting outdoors, but if they remained indoors…. Never assume anything, Westcott. In any case, perhaps it might be wiser to have Miss McKenzie present, if the child was agreeable to it.
“Please sit down, Miss Durant.” Her quick glance at her companion was confirmation enough and his nod encompassed both woman and girl. “Miss McKenzie is free to remain, if you so desire.”
A shy look and a murmured “yes”, and they both sat on the settee while he took the chair opposite.
“Miss McKenzie may have told you I have come from England especially to find you and deliver a message. What you may not know is that this is to be done at my discretion.” Danielle looked puzzled, but Miss McKenzie appeared thoughtful. Did she realize how much depended on the situation here? His eyes met hers. No fool, this woman. She knew, and was an ally, at least for the moment.
“I was to ensure that you are well and happy, Miss Durant,” Blackwell said in an even voice, watching her closely. The quickly veiled pain in her eyes was his answer and he stifled an impatient curse. Trouble ahead and you can be sure there is not going to be a quick resolution to this increasingly complex affair. Damn you, St. Clair, for pulling me into this. “I do not believe it to be the case here, however.” He leaned back and assumed what he felt was a calm expression unlikely to alarm her. “That being so, I will relay the information as charged, but first I must ask some questions.”
The girl looked at Miss McKenzie for guidance, received a small smile of encouragement, and nodded.
“Before coming to Portugal, you lived with Madame and Monsieur Durant in the town of Trets. What of your life there, mademoiselle? Was it enjoyable? Did you attend school?”
Danielle again looked puzzled, but answered readily enough. Yes, she did live there with her parents and her brother, Guy. They had a fine house on the grounds of the school where Papa taught. She did not go to school there as it was for boys, but attended a day school in the town. Guy was still too young for school when her father died, but Maman taught him his letters and such, as she had done with Danielle. All was well until Monsieur’s death. They had to move to a smaller house, since someone else had Papa’s position. The new house was good, but Maman was so sad, missing Papa, and Monsieur Meraux, who worked at the school, but not as a teacher, came many times to visit. She did not know what Monsieur Meraux’s position was. The storm of words burst out as if the floodgates had opened within this wary, reticent girl.
“Then he married Maman.”
The child paused for air and Blackwell glanced at Miss McKenzie, who appeared as amazed at this volubility as he felt. Evidently this was as new to her as it was to him.
“Did you mind very much, this marriage?” Miss McKenzie asked, with such casualness that Blackwell almost smiled with approval. He also had this question in mind.
Danielle dropped her gaze to the hands folded in her lap. “I should not, since it made Maman pleased, but I missed Papa and did not like Mr. Meraux too much.” She raised her head and looked earnestly at Blackwell. “He was not unkind, you understand, but he watched me sometimes and was very strict about my friends. Even before Maman died, I was hardly allowed to go out except to school, and afterward….” She faltered, and then went on in a low voice. “I was never allowed to go anywhere without him. I was to stay home and keep the house, as a proper woman should.”
“Indeed,” Miss McKenzie said with a sniff.
The wealth of meaning conveyed in the short word drew a strangled laugh from Blackwell. No doubt as to Miss McKenzie’s beliefs on the role of women. Not that he disagreed, especially since in this instance the female was little more than a child at the time—and not much past that now.
“How long ago was this, Miss Durant?”
She let out a long, somehow sad breath. “Since Papa died, three years now. Guy was very young and it was hard for him, especially after Maman was gone. The house was sold, and we moved to Ville de Cuers. Everything was strange and we were often alone, which I did not mind but it is difficult for a little boy to have no one but a sister to play with.”
“You are an excellent sister, Danielle, and I am sure Guy feels lucky to have you.”
Miss McKenzie was quick with her praise and since Blackwell was seething inside by now, he welcomed the moment to bring his temper under control.
“Why did Monsieur Meraux come to Portugal?” Blackwell doubted she knew, but was unwilling to solicit any further unsettling personal information right now. Besides, the more he knew of Meraux, the better.
“I don’t know. It has to do with the men he brought home once. Something about wine, I think. I saw and heard them for a just a minute, and they frightened me.”
To his dismay, her eyes filled with tears. Blackwell looked at Miss McKenzie in unconscious appeal, but she was a step ahead, pressing a handkerchief into the girl’s hand and putting an arm around her shoulders.
Miss McKenzie looked at him, brows raised in question. “Perhaps you might tell Danielle of her message now, if you have all the information you need.”
Need, maybe; more than he wanted, certainly. Certainly she—they, could not be left in Meraux’s hands, although what he was to do with them was another s
tory. Now he had no choice but to lay another sorrow on this girl’s head, for it seemed clear she had no idea she was adopted.
“Is it something bad, Mr. Blackwell?”
Blackwell winced at the plaintive little question and hesitated no longer. Tell her straight out, Westcott. Beating around the bush will not cushion the blow. “I know this will come as a shock, but this begins with the fact that the Durants were not your natural parents. You were adopted by them as an infant.”
Danielle stared at him in disbelief and Miss McKenzie stirred and took her hand.
“That cannot be true! Why do you say such a thing?” She turned away from him. “It is a lie, isn’t it, mam’selle?”
“I do not believe Mr. Blackwell would lie about such a thing, Danielle.”
“Miss Durant—Danielle. Listen to me.” He reached over to pull her hands from Miss McKenzie’s and grasped them firmly. “Don’t think for a minute you were not loved. Monsieur and Madame wanted you very much. You would never have been told this if they had lived. You are their daughter in every way.”
“Except my birth,” she whispered. But some of the distress eased from her eyes and her voice steadied. “May I know who my real parents were?”
Blackwell paused, reluctant to tell her she was the offspring of an amoral nobleman who had seduced and abandoned an innocent girl.
“It is best in the open,” Miss McKenzie murmured, sympathy on her face, as if she suspected what he was going to say.
“Your mother was very young when she met your father. He was handsome and wealthy and she believed him when he promised marriage. Instead, he left her enceinte and in disgrace with her family. When his sister, your aunt, learned of it, she took your mother to a convent to have her child, planning to send you both to another part of France into a new life. But your mother died soon after you were born and your aunt, hearing of a couple who longed for a child, placed you with them. She knew them and could be sure you would be well loved and cared for.”
“I see. I am a bastard, then.”
“No, you are not!” Blackwell released her, stood, and looked sternly at her. “You are the daughter of Madame and Monsieur Durant. They gave you their name along with their love.” He walked to the window with heavy steps. This was as hard a thing as any in his life. Gad, he wanted to be home, riding out over the Hampshire hills, playing games with Sarah. Instead he was tearing a child’s life apart.
“Mr. Blackwell is quite right. You are Miss Durant and there is no reason you should be otherwise.” Miss McKenzie made her brisk, matter-of-fact statement, rose, and pulled the girl to her feet. “Since it appears this conversation will go on for some time, I suggest we take a turn in the courtyard and have something to drink before we continue.”
Concern for the passing time warred in his head with a fervent desire to escape the confines of this room, but the pull of fresh air won and he followed them outside. Not much was left to explain and any decisions necessary could be made tomorrow. Perhaps a good night’s sleep might provide him with a solution to the problem of what to do with these children!
~* * *~
Anne stepped through the doorway and took a deep breath. Never could she have imagined the revelations of the past hour. That poor child, whose every conception about her life was undermined, and this on top of her earlier disclosure. She eyed the girl beside her, wondering at her ability to appear as if nothing earthshaking had happened.
The Englishman’s unsmiling demeanor had also returned, although she had not missed the compassion on his face earlier. He was not as unaffected as he appeared, and she was uncertain of his reaction when told of Meraux’s plans for Danielle. She watched him pace the length of the courtyard, around the fountain and back again, as if demons rode his shoulder. Perhaps they did. She knew little of his life and he was clearly unhappy to be involved in theirs. As you are involved. You could no more abandon these children than…than fly to the moon. Making an instant decision, she sent Danielle off to ask Maggie for some refreshments, intercepted the gentleman wearing a rut in her courtyard, and stopped squarely in his path.
“Mr. Blackwell. I am sorry to interrupt, but I have something to tell you before Danielle returns.” He stared at her, looking none too pleased, but nodded curtly and stepped around her.
“Walk with me.”
Anne glowered at his back. She never much cared for being ordered about, and if it was not so important, she would stand right here until he came around again. Instead, she hurried to catch up to him. At least his pace slowed to accommodate hers.
“I do not know what else you have to tell Danielle, but you should know she came to me in great distress today. In the past, she confided very little, which I mentioned to you yesterday, but this overwhelmed her and it is not surprising she told me of it.” Was he listening? Anne peered sideways at him. He was. His eyes were intent on her face and she looked away hastily.
“Go on.”
Anne sighed. More orders—perhaps he had served in the military. This was not the time to protest, however. “Meraux intends to wed Danielle next month on her birthday, has threatened to separate her from Guy if she refuses, and has withdrawn permission for them to visit me.” There, it was out, and brought him to a halt.
“The devil you say! The blackguard is supposedly her stepfather!”
Anne moved a few steps back. His response was all she depended upon, but the look of fury on his face was a bit intimidating. “He is, yes, but is he also her legal guardian? I’ve hesitated to ask. Perhaps you can.”
Blackwell scowled at her, seeming suddenly to realize why she had put a distance between them. “I don’t bite,” he growled, and gave her the half twist of his mouth that passed as a smile with him. “Or shoot the messenger.”
Anne smiled at the allusion, but was unable to resist a gentle retort. “Nor do I, sir, which is well for you today, I believe.” And amazingly his lips curled in an actual smile, one that for some reason stole her breath away. Feeling a flush rise in her face, she whirled around. “There is Danielle now with some refreshment for us.”
Aware of his eyes on her back, she slowed her pace to a stroll. She was not running away. Anne took a sip of the juice Danielle handed her and kept her eyes on the girl. She had no idea why a simple smile should so fluster her.
Blackwell took the offered beverage with murmured thanks, drank the whole of it in several long swallows, and set the glass aside. “We haven’t much time and still have some ground to cover. Will you be comfortable out here?” He waited until they had settled on the bench before continuing his tale.
“Your aunt was greatly concerned as to your safety when she heard of your mother’s death and your relocation to Portugal. She asked some friends in England to investigate, and I agreed to act as emissary. If the situation requires, which in my opinion it does, you were to be told of your parentage and that a trust fund awaits you. This gives you some independence, Miss Durant.”
“But Monsieur Meraux….”
“You are not to worry about Meraux. Miss McKenzie has told me of his threats. I assure you that you cannot legally be forced into marriage, at any age!”
Anne slumped against the wall in relief and grasped one of Danielle’s hands. She had suspected as much, but having this forceful gentleman willing to stand behind the child was the most important thing.
Danielle’s reaction was less happy and a bleak note in her voice reminded Anne that, of course, Guy was a major concern.
“What of my brother? I will not leave him, Mr. Blackwell.”
The Englishman stooped down in front of them. “You will not be leaving him, Miss Durant. I give you my word. Meraux’s threats are just that, threats.”
No one could refute the sincerity in the man’s voice. Anne saw the look of belief grow on Danielle’s face and breathed a silent thanks to this stranger who had walked into her life. He would take the children into his care. Anne was relieved, and pleased at their good fortune, no matter her own sorrow
at the thought of losing them.
You have your own problems to work out and best get to them. Now you are free to flee to England—if you can find the funds to do so. Mr. Blackwell could no doubt accommodate her, but just the idea of asking him made her shudder. Anne wrenched her mind from the gloomy thoughts and turned her attention to her companions. Blackwell had risen and resumed his pacing, albeit keeping in front of them, and was again issuing orders, which seemed to be a habit with him.
“I have not worked out a plan as yet, but I want you to do your best to act as usual when you go home today. I will come with the Fentons for you tomorrow, and you will not be returning, so if there are any items either of you want to bring, have them packed and ready. Don’t bother with more than a change of clothing, as we can purchase anything you need.”
“Are we to stay here?”
Danielle looked from the Englishman to Anne in wonder, a feeling Anne shared. She would be happy to have them with her, but this tiny house hardly had room for another two people. She blinked in surprise and waited, her eyes on her guest, who she felt certain had something in mind. He had been at no loss in making provisions to date. Nor did he fail her now, and she dropped her head to hide a smile.
“I think it best that you stay with a friend of mine. Senhora Gomez will be pleased to have you and this is the first place Meraux will look, if he does so, although I doubt it.”
Blackwell did not say why he believed the Frenchman would not look for the children, but judging from the anger she sensed seething under his calm façade, he intended to ensure that the man stayed away. How, Anne did not care to ask—or want to know, for that matter. Craven she may be, but she was very glad to have it taken from her hands.
Interpreting Danielle’s look of apprehension, Anne smiled at her and stood. “Mr. Blackwell’s friend will take good care of you, and I will come to visit.” She held out her hands. “My dear, this has been an exhausting day for all of us. Take up your flute while I find Guy. Your maid will be here soon, and we want to keep to the normal routine for now.” Danielle rose and returned Anne’s hug, but a whispered “thank you” and a tremulous smile was all she could manage before she fled. A few minutes later the halting note of the same melody practiced previously floated out and Anne smiled.
An Inconvenient Wife Page 6