“I am being sensible. Have you forgotten that she saved my brother’s life? And the poor woman is going to learn her brother is dead. I can only imagine how terrible the blow will be.” Hen wrapped her arm around her husband’s waist. “Darling, you would never want me or Gwyneth to be treated in such a harsh manner. She can stay in the east wing, away from the library and the family rooms.”
Rathbourne smoothed a wisp of hair along the side of Hen’s cheek. “You’re right. Let her rest tonight.”
He turned and spoke to Michael. “You will not share the news of her brother with her. We will make arrangements for her.”
Hen gave him a pleading look. “A very sound plan. Don’t you agree?”
Michael didn’t want his sister to have to play peacemaker, but Rathbourne tested the patience of a saint and Michael was no saint.
“She has to be exhausted, and to deliver crushing news after her journey will make it more difficult for her,” Hen added.
“Fine. But if she is not to stay here after tonight, where will she stay?” Michael asked.
Rathbourne placed his arm around Hen’s shoulder, tucking her to his side. He kissed her on the top of her head. “I don’t want you to be upset. Why don’t you go and have tea with her while I speak with your brother and Ash. We will come up with a plan for Mademoiselle de Valmont.”
“You won’t bully my brother.”
“For heaven’s sake, Hen, I don’t need to hide behind your skirts.” Michael frowned at his sister.
Rathbourne raised his supercilious eyebrow again. “It won’t take long for Ash and I to decide, then Kendal can join you in the drawing room with Edward and Uncle Charles.”
Chapter Six
When the door opened, Gabby startled and sat more upright on the settee. A petite woman in an unadorned green morning dress entered the drawing room. Her auburn hair was pulled back into a simple knot at her neck. At first glance, Gabby thought this tiny woman was a servant, but the winged arc of her eyebrows, the straight nose, and the luminescent green eyes resembled a familiar face.
Gabby stood and tried to smooth the wrinkles out of the ill-fitting dress she had been wearing for over a day. She patted down her wayward curls that hadn’t been tended to.
“Bonjour, Mademoiselle De Valmont.” The lady curtsied, her French accent as impeccable as her brother’s. “Welcome to Rathbourne House. I’m Lady Rathbourne.”
Gabby curtsied and spoke in English. She wanted Lady Rathbourne to know she spoke English as fluently as the lady spoke French. “Thank you for your hospitality. I apologize for the inconvenience of my visit. Lord Kendal had originally planned for me to rest at Kendal House to break up my journey.”
“Michael explained how demanding your trip has been. You must be weary.” As Lady Rathbourne smiled, the resemblance to her brother was even more apparent. She had the same round dimples in each cheek and the same shining eyes that tilted up in the corners. “Please be seated. Let me ring for tea before the gentlemen descend and nothing will be left for us to eat. You soon will have the opportunity to meet all the Harcourt men.”
“Thank you, my lady.” Gabby reseated herself on the damask settee and folded her hands in her lap.
“I owe you an incredible debt. You saved my brother’s life. He just told me of his wound and his fever.”
“You owe me nothing. Lord Kendal and Denby risked their lives enabling me to escape France.”
“Yes, Michael explained that you needed to make a hasty departure, but he never actually explained how you met.”
“I’m sure you are interested in the circumstances.” Gabby understood Lady Rathbourne’s interest in Gabby’s sudden appearance. Did the proper English lady believe Gabby wanted to manipulate her brother into marriage?
The door swung open, and a stunning raven-haired woman rushed into the room. “Brompton told me the good news, Henrietta. I’m so happy Michael is back safely— Oh, my goodness. I do apologize. I didn’t know you had a visitor.”
“Please come in and meet Mademoiselle Gabrielle. She made the journey with Michael from France.”
Gabby stood and curtsied to the lady who appeared to be of the same age.
“How exciting. You journeyed with Lord Kendal?”
The curvaceous young woman, breathless from excitement, spoke in gushes. Not at all what Gabby would have expected from an English lady, but more like her friend Jeanine at the convent. A textile merchant’s daughter, Jeanine had not been trained in restraint and the finer attitudes of a lady, and Gabby liked her for it. Until the death of her parents, Gabby had shown the same uninhibited spirit, unrestrained in her curiosity.
Lady Rathbourne smiled indulgently. “This is my husband’s sister, Lady Gwyneth Ashworth. Did you come with your husband?”
Lady Ashworth sat in the chair across from Gabby. “Yes. Since he had to meet with your brother, I accompanied him. I wanted to see Uncle Charles and Edward. I miss everyone. Our household is very quiet in comparison to Rathbourne House. You must be so delighted to finally have your brother home.”
Lady Rathbourne toyed with a strand of flyway hair resting on her cheek. “It’s been quite a shock for Michael to discover that I’ve married and moved the entire household to Rathbourne House. Cord is talking with him now.”
“I hope Michael isn’t too upset, since I’m so very glad to have you as a sister. And I’m sure my brother is pleased to finally meet him.”
“There was a bit of male one-upmanship, but I’m sure…” Lady Rathbourne looked down at her feet. “But by now, Michael is regaling them with his adventure in France.”
Lady Gwyneth rolled her exotic black eyes toward the ceiling. “Most likely drinking brandy. Is Brinsley here too?”
“I’m not sure,” Lady Rathbourne said too quickly.
If Gabby hadn’t been paying attention she might have missed the silent communication of the rounded eyes and raised eyebrows between the women. Whatever Lord Rathbourne was discussing with the men, his wife knew but didn’t want to share.
“Will you be staying at Rathbourne House long? It will be delightful to have another woman in this household,” Lady Gwyneth said.
“No, I don’t want to impose. I will talk to Lord Kendal about moving immediately to my brother’s house.”
Gabby was exhausted from her travels and would have liked to avoid getting into a carriage for a very long time. Her stomach growled, reminding her how hungry she was, and she hoped the tray would soon arrive. Lord Kendal had been too excited to return home to stop for a midday repast and then refused to take tea at Kendal House.
The door swung open, and Gabby sat forward in expectation of the tea tray’s arrival. Instead, a large dog rushed into the room with a young boy who must be Lord Kendal’s younger brother. The golden curls, wide light eyes, and the dimpled smile were identical to his older brother.
“Hen, has the tea tray arrived? Gus and I are starving.”
Lady Rathbourne and Lady Gwyneth laughed at the same time. “I swear Gus and Edward can divine the arrival of the tray before Mrs. Brompton has brought it.”
“We’re growing.” Edward bent down and patted his dog’s head, while his canine friend sniffed around the table in the center of the seating arrangement.
“Gus, the tray has not arrived yet. Please sit down.” Lady Henrietta pointed to the floor.
The retriever cocked his broad head to one side and then dropped to the floor in a pivotal position next to the table, demonstrating his knowledge of where the tray would be placed.
“Edward, come meet Mademoiselle Gabrielle, our guest.”
The young imp tilted his head in courtly fashion and bowed grandly from his waist, as if meeting a royal. “My lady.”
“How do you, my lord. I admire your fine, stout companion.”
Edward grinned, emphasizing the Harcourt family charm and the same mischievous twinkle she had seen in Lord Kendal’s eyes. Like his older brother, Edward was destined to break many hearts. But she would
never give her heart to a man who confused her with Yvette or Mimi. Or that was what she told herself.
“Edward, is Uncle Charles up from his nap yet?”
“I’m not sure, Hen. He didn’t join me and Mr. Marlow in the library.”
The door opened again, admitting two burly footmen with trays laden with food. Another footman carried a tray with cups, saucers, and two teapots.
She wouldn’t impose any longer once she had eaten. Then she would insist on being taken to Lucien’s home.
Chapter Seven
Michael was hungry, tired, and more than a little irritated with his new brother-in-law. He didn’t want to act like an ass in front of Ashworth, but he’d really like to settle a few things with Rathbourne in the way of men.
Michael always had imagined that Hen would marry someone he could relate to, someone easy to joke with, and, more importantly, someone who cared about linguistics. There was nothing humorous or relaxed in the way Lord Rathbourne pulled back his shoulders into a rigid posture or the way he stared at Michael, as if he were some strange foreigner from Arabia.
“What can one innocent young woman do in your home?” Michael demanded.
“Go through my office or your sister’s. Pick Uncle Charles’s mind for codes.” Rathbourne’s tone was condescending.
Michael wasn’t used to being treated like an idiot. His intellectual prowess was well respected in both the academic and espionage circles. Some considered him a genius; not that he would ever use that term in describing himself. Uncle Charles and Henrietta, though, were definitely in the genius category.
“Does she know about your work as a code breaker or about your mission in France?” Rathbourne questioned.
“No. I told no one.”
“But the woman tended to you when you were delirious. Was Denby always with you? How do we know that you didn’t disclose your code breaking role in England?” Rathbourne asked in a steely voice as if he was interrogating a treasonous spy.
Michael sucked in his breath and tried for civility. “She knows nothing. She told me I spoke about Hen and our mother.”
“You don’t know what you might have shared in your delirium. We will have to keep her under surveillance.”
“This is ridiculous.” Michael had enough. He walked toward the door. “Gabby will not be treated badly after saving my life. I will take her back to Kendal House where she is no threat to England’s secrets.”
Rathbourne bolted from his chair, his harsh jaw clenched again. He spoke in a precise, clipped manner. “I won’t allow it. You’ll upset Henrietta.”
Michael spun around. He was known for his easygoing manner, but since arriving at Rathbourne House he was a cauldron of seething frustration. With his hands fisted at his sides, he was ready to inflict physical harm. “Allow it?” he shouted. “You might have stolen my entire family, but you have no control over me or my actions!”
“Stolen your family?” Rathbourne’s face contorted into rage. “Of all the asinine comments. You would separate Edward and Uncle Charles from your sister?”
Michael stepped closer, ready for an altercation. “As asinine as thinking Mademoiselle Gabby is a spy. Uncle Charles and Edward are my responsibilities. And I don’t shirk my responsibilities.”
Ashworth, now standing, waved his arms in the air. “Gentlemen, please. Kendal, sit down. Let’s discuss this like the English gentlemen we are. You don’t want Lady Henrietta rushing back in here when she hears the shouting, do you? You both promised her to try to get along.”
“As long as he didn’t provoke me,” Michael protested.
Lord Rathbourne pinned Michael with a damning glare. “Provoke you?”
“You’re the one who has accused Gabby of being a French spy.”
“Gentlemen!” Ashworth raised his voice. “Think of Lady Henrietta.”
“You’re right. It’s best not to get Hen riled.” Michael sat down in the chair next to Ashworth. “Hen doesn’t lose her temper easily, but when she does, watch out. With one glib remark she can level a man.”
Lord Rathbourne sat back down at his desk. “She does have a sharp and deadly precise way with words.”
Michael laughed at Rathbourne’s tone of awe in regard to Hen.
“You two are pathetic.” Ash shook his head. “Lady Henrietta, like Gwyneth, is a most gentle and accommodating woman.”
“Gwyneth, accommodating? Since when?” Rathbourne chortled.
“My wife is always reasonable in her demands.”
Michael was shocked to hear Rathbourne hoot with laughter. Was it possible that his sister’s husband had a sense of humor?
“My sister doesn’t have a reasonable bone in her body.”
Michael looked back and forth between the two men, trying to grasp the connections. “You’re married to Lord Rathbourne’s sister?”
“Yes, and Cord is married to your sister. Cozy, isn’t it?”
And, struck by their mutual bonds and fueled by the brandy, the men chuckled together—a tentative sense of camaraderie.
When the door opened, all three men jumped to their feet. Michael found it difficult to control his laughter. Exhaustion and brandy might not be the best combination.
A giant of a man, broad-faced, with longish black hair and piercing eyes, stood at the door. “What is so humorous?”
Ashworth said, “These men were cowering because they thought Lady Henrietta had come to give them hell.”
Examining the stranger’s fierce face, Michael tried to remember where they had met.
“Glad to have you back on British soil.” A wide grin spread across the man’s face. He crossed the room and slapped Michael on the back. “You gave me a hell of scare in Paris.”
Michael shook his head in disbelief and pointed. “You’re the man who was hiding behind the tree.”
The giant’s thick eyebrows slashed together. “It’s called ‘covert operations.’”
“It must have been one hell of a big tree,” Ashworth added irreverently.
“If you were on our side, why in the hell did you chase my man and me out of France?” Michael asked.
“I wasn’t after you. I was guarding you. I left a false trail for Fouché and Napoleon’s men to give you time to make your getaway.”
“You could have fooled me.”
“When you were playing a nun?” the amused man asked.
“Then, sir, I’m in your debt.” Michael offered his hand. “As you already know. I’m Kendal.”
He tilted his head to the side. “Brinsley, at your service.”
“Brinsley has shared your daring escape dressed as nuns, but how did you end up wearing religious garb?” Ashworth inquired.
Rathbourne moaned aloud. Obviously his brother-in-law didn’t appreciate how sticky the situation had become in France.
“Both Fouché and Napoleon’s men were after us,” Michael said.
“After you stole the French code book from Le Chiffre, which wasn’t included in your assignment,” Rathbourne added.
“I wasn’t planning on stealing the book, but as you already know, I was shot returning home.”
“Yes, ruined your cover, forcing Fouché and Napoleon to come after you. Then you almost got your sister killed by sending the damn code book to her.” Rathbourne’s sharp voice matched his harsh stare.
Michael jumped out of his chair. “Who tried to kill Hen?”
Rathbourne gestured for Michael to sit back down. “I’ll explain later.”
Michael stared at Rathbourne’s implacable expression. He refused to believe Rathbourne’s hyperbole that his sister had been in danger. This was England, not France. To keep the peace with Rathbourne, Michael kept quiet, but he was growing tired of his brother-in-law’s insinuations about his competency. Henrietta would tell him everything and wouldn’t be judgmental like her husband. After all, Hen had never held his escapades against him.
“Look on the bright side, Cord. You rescued Lady Henrietta, gaining her trust so that s
he was willing to marry you. I would say it all ended well.”
Cord leaned back in his chair, his face relaxing in pleasurable memories. Michael didn’t want to see the face of a satisfied male reflecting on his sister.
Ashworth drank from his glass. “Now that we’ve put all that behind us, please explain your disguise as nuns. I’ve been in many disguises undercover, but never anything as intriguing as a nun.”
Brinsley effortlessly lifted a heavy mahogany chair that stood in front of the fireplace and placed it next to Ashworth. “Yes, do tell how you got the nuns to cooperate.” Brinsley ambled to the side table and poured himself a glass of brandy. Clearly he was part of the inner circle. “I wanted to go the nunnery and ask them why they assisted you, but with both Fouché’s and Napoleon’s men watching the convent, I couldn’t risk it.”
“Fouché’s men followed Denby from our home. He escaped by hiding behind a statue of the Blessed Virgin in Notre Dame Cathedral. Mother Therese came to his rescue. In exchange for their wimples and dresses, we had to agree to escort a boy, Pierre, out of France.”
“What happened to the lad who was with you?” Brinsley’s enormous hands held the brandy glass to his mouth.
“It turns out that the lad wasn’t a lad, but Mademoiselle Gabrielle escaping the clutches of Napoleon.”
“The boy was not a boy?” Brinsley took a big swallow of his brandy. “You really do get into the most interesting situations.”
“Why is Napoleon after this young woman?” Ash asked.
“He wants to marry her off to his brother and keep her fortune for his war coffers.”
“Well, then, it was a good thing you got her away from France,” Brinsley said. “But what of her family?”
“Very tragic. Her parents were guillotined during the Reign of Terror.”
“An orphan with a large inheritance?” Brinsley asked. “I’m glad I assisted her escape.”
“The Sisters sent Gabby to join her brother in England.”
“Then her brother will protect her from the fortune seekers in England.” Brinsley reclined back in his chair.
A Cantata of Love (The Code Breakers 4) Page 4