“You love it here,” she said, the surprise in her voice audible.
Chance nodded. “I do.”
Odette took a breath and put up her chin, a gesture Chance recognised now.
“Then I shall love it too,” she said firmly.
He laughed, touched and delighted by her, but there was no time for anything more as servants poured from the entrance and his father’s butler, Harris, came out to greet them.
“Lord Debdon,” he said with a bow, before turning his gaze to Odette.
Harris never usually showed the least expression, being far too well trained display anything as plebeian as an emotion, but his eyes grew wide as he recognised her. This was tantamount to a hysterical fit in most other people, and Chance felt his pulse accelerate.
“Where is my father?” he asked.
“Lord Blackdown is in the library, my lord, with Monsieur le Marquis de Layon.”
“Ah,” Chance said, gripping Odette’s hand a little tighter. “Two birds.”
“Mon Dieu,” Odette whispered, so quietly only he caught it, but he could sense her trembling beside him.
“Chin up, love,” he murmured, and guided her into the castle.
He waved Harris away, telling the butler not to worry, he could find his father’s study by himself and had no wish to be announced. He’d go in when he was good and ready. Perhaps they might wait for the next millennium.
“They are all staring at me,” she said, her anxiety obvious as he guided her past the ranks of footmen his father insisted on having and on through the maze of the castle to the earl’s study. “They must know what I did.”
“Ignore them,” Chance told her, though his own nerves were leaping now, something that was not the least bit helped as they approached his father’s study and the sound of raised voices reached them. That it was audible even through the massive oak door that was as old as the castle itself was not reassuring. “Well, this should be exciting.”
Odette looked up at him, her eyes very wide and frightened in the lamplight. Chance leaned down and kissed her, as much to give himself courage as her. He’d been in battle—he’d survived Waterloo, for the love of God!—so facing his father ought not be this terrifying. His heart did not seem able to distinguish between war and the coming confrontation, however, and was battering behind his ribs with fury. He would not let his wife down, though.
Holding her hand tightly, he gave two sharp raps on the door and walked in.
Chapter 7
“Wherein a villain is exposed.”
15thDecember 1817. Blackdown House. Devon.
Odette clung to Chance’s hand. Had it only been that morning they had woken together on the mattress before the fire at Corry Brook Farm? Oh, how she longed to be back there now. The idea of feasting on fried potatoes and spending the day making snowmen and playing cards and kissing Chance… it was like a lovely dream, and she wanted to return to it and never wake up. Anything rather than meet the cold grey gaze of her uncle, who was staring at her like she’d just crawled out from under a stone. She could hardly bear to meet the earl’s eyes, eyes she now saw were exact same shade of blue as his son’s.
Still, she would not disgrace Chance by acting like some swooning heroine in a bad play, so she stiffened her backbone and returned his father’s uncompromising gaze.
“Now you come home,” the earl said to him with contempt. “Now, when you have caused the most chaos possible, you return and bring that… that wicked girl with you. What is the meaning of this?”
“Odette is not the least bit wicked, father, as I’m sure you know,” Chance replied, with every outward appearance of calm, though he was pale even beneath the warm glow of the lamplight. “She was upset and afraid after her uncle spoke to her harshly. The lady went for a walk to calm her nerves and got lost, as many have done before now. If you’d been a little more assiduous in looking after her, or in searching for her, I would not have had to return her myself. As it is… I am very pleased to be able to do so.”
“You dare lay this debacle at my feet?” his father demanded.
“Oh, no, sir. The blame is not entirely yours, though you did not see fit to give me the slightest information about the young lady you had decided I must spend my life with. The Marquis de Layon must share the blame equally for his machinations, and for frightening his niece enough to make her too afraid to remain in the same building as he.”
Uncle Guy did not even blink. “Keep a civil tongue in your head, pup, or I might decide to remove it for you.”
Odette shivered at the look in her uncle’s eyes. His French accent was barely audible, as he felt he must excel in all things and so spoke five languages fluently. This need for perfection was not only aimed at himself, either. André had suffered cruelly for not being the man the marquis had wanted him to be. Now she would feel his wrath as her perfect reputation was sullied and spoiled.
“Well, child,” he said, and the lack of inflection in his voice had always frightened her the most. She could bear it when he shouted and ranted, but that icy cold usually preceded the worst of him. “You have overturned all my plans and reduced yourself to a pitiful nothing, a whore to be bought and sold, and for what?”
Odette did not have time to gasp at the ugly words as another shock overtook the first. Chance dropped her hand, moving so swiftly she hardly saw it happen. One moment he stood beside her, the next he was standing toe to toe with her uncle, his face a mask of tightly controlled fury. Now she saw the soldier he had been, the warrior beneath the civilised exterior.
“Insult my wife again, Monsieur, and I shall have satisfaction at the end of a pistol.”
For the next few seconds pandemonium reigned as Odette shrieked and ran to Chance, tugging on his arm.
“Non! Non, non, non,” she cried, terrified that she might lose him before their lives had even begun.
“You’re married?” the earl shouted, coming around his desk to confront his son. “How on earth—?”
“Wife?” exploded her uncle at the same moment, his eyes popping with fury. “What do you mean—”
“Quiet!”
Chance’s voice echoed around the room and, rather to her astonishment, both the earl and her uncle were silenced. From the look in his eyes, Chance was a little taken aback too.
“Yes, we are married,” he confirmed. “We saw Uncle Will this morning. He married us.”
A measuring look that Odette was not certain she liked entered the earl’s expression, but she had no time to consider as her uncle stalked up to her, eyes blazing.
“Did he take you yet?” he demanded.
Odette gasped, her cheeks blazing scarlet.
“Don’t play the coquette now, girl,” he sneered. “It’s too late for that. Are you or are you not a virgin? Have you consummated the marriage?”
“N-Non,” Odette said, before she could think better of it.
A triumphant gleam entered the man’s eyes, and he turned back to the earl. “Sign the settlement. It’s to be done just as we arranged, though I will add a clause stating I be recompensed as you have been spared the expense of a wedding. Otherwise it is all as before, you only need sign the papers.”
The earl leaned back against the desk, his expression unreadable.
“But the deed is done,” he said, spreading out his hands. “They’re married.”
Uncle Guy stilled, a dangerous glint in his cold eyes. “Nothing that can’t be annulled. You heard the girl, it’s not been consummated. They’re not legally wed yet, and they won’t be if you don’t keep to our terms.”
“What terms?” Chance demanded, looking between the two men who were disregarding both him and Odette, too intent on their own power struggle.
“Might I remind you of exactly what you risk, my lord?” Uncle Guy said, his tone smooth. “The reason this little arrangement was so important to us both.”
The words might have been mild, but that a threat was being issued was in no doubt.
&n
bsp; The atmosphere in the room, already taut and strained, seemed to thicken with the violence of feeling between the two men. A soft knock at the door made Odette almost leap from her skin, so on edge were her emotions. She turned to see Lady Blackdown come in. Odette had liked the woman, who had been the only one to show her any warmth when she’d come to this daunting place. She was tall and elegant, with honey gold hair arranged in a simple yet stylish arrangement, and her elegant figure clad in deep green.
“Chauncey, darling,” she said, her eyes alight with pleasure as she rushed to her son and embraced him. “We were so worried when you didn’t come home. I told your father you must have gotten stuck in the snow, for I knew you would not be so rude on purpose.”
Though there was a reproachful note apparent in her greeting, her expression was full of warmth.
“Yes, Mama, just as you say,” Chance replied with a sheepish smile, clearly deciding he need give no more explanation at this stage. “But I was never so glad for it. I found a lost lamb, you see.”
“Miss de Bethencourt!” his mother exclaimed, and before Odette could blink she was enveloped in an embrace every bit as fierce as Chance had received. “Oh, thank the Lord, you’re safe. You are safe, unharmed?” she demanded, taking a step back to look her over, her concern genuine and so touching on a night filled to the brim with anxiety that Odette’s eyes filled.
“Oui, Maman,” she said, daring to address Lady Blackdown as a daughter might.
The lady stilled and covered her mouth with a gasp. Her gaze flew from Odette to Chance, who smiled at her.
“I’d like you to meet my wife, Mama, my Lady Debdon.”
“Lady Debdon?” his mother repeated in a daze.
Odette held her breath, wondering if Lady Blackdown’s happiness was only for her safety, if she no longer wished to welcome Odette into her family, if….
Odette gave a choked laugh as she was embraced again, and this time the lady pulled Chance towards her too, one arm around each of them.
“Oh,” Lady Blackdown cried, her voice thick with emotion. “Oh, you naughty children. I was so looking forward to seeing you both marry, but… but I’m so glad… so… so… ha—happy.”
She dissolved into tears and Odette watched in astonishment as the icy Earl of Blackdown ran to her, his expression one of horror.
“Lucinda, Lucy, my love… don’t cry.”
Lady Blackdown was gathered into her husband’s arms, heedless of the assembled company.
“You see what you’ve done, boy!” the earl said, furious now as he turned on Chance once again.
“Oh, no, Arthur, don’t. Please, I’m only crying because I am so happy and relieved. Look at them. Can’t you see they are made for each other? I just knew it… I knew the moment I set eyes on her. I told you we ought to have warned him. If you’d only let me send the letter I wrote….”
“What difference would that make?” his father demanded with a snort, adding with no little sarcasm. “He got stuck in the snow!”
Lady Blackdown returned a reproachful glance, looking up at her husband from under her lashes.
“Arthur,” she said, her voice soft and gently chiding.
Lord Blackdown dissolved.
Odette turned to Chance, wide-eyed with astonishment. During her brief stay here she had only seen the forbidding earl himself on two occasions, both times with her uncle. He had not been present at her meetings with Lady Blackdown.
Lady Blackdown had been charming and kind. The earl had been cold and icily polite. The two of them together, though….
Chance winked at her and bent down to whisper in her ear. “My mother is a force to be reckoned with. He adores her.”
This was patently obvious as the earl let out a defeated huff, kissed the top of his wife’s head, and looked back at his son.
“Well, boy, hiding behind your mother’s skirts again, I see, but… well, we shall silence any talk. It will cost me a pretty penny, but I don’t suppose that will bother you a whit. Just get on and do your blasted duty. I want grandsons, and lots of ’em.”
Odette felt her colour rise again, but Chance only grinned and slid his arm about her waist.
“Yes, sir,” he said, bowing respectfully.
“Hmph,” said the earl, though there was a glimmer of humour in his eyes.
“Blackdown,” came a warning voice from the corner of the room that sent shivers chasing down Odette’s spine. “Aren’t you forgetting something? Remember what you stand to lose if you don’t sign that agreement.”
To Odette’s alarm, her uncle slid his cold gaze to Lady Blackdown before he met the earl’s furious eye once more.
“I don’t forget, damn you,” the earl said, his lips thinning into a taut line of displeasure.
“What agreement?” Lady Blackdown asked, her keen eyes settling on the marquis sharp and full of interest.
“Oh, just the marriage settlements, my love,” the earl said soothingly. Nothing for you to fret about. Now, why don’t you take the young people off and get them some refreshments? No doubt they’re famished after their tiring day.”
“In a moment, darling,” the lady said, smiling at her husband, though there was a glimmer of steel to the expression that gave Odette pause.
She glanced up at Chance to see his attention also riveted on his mother. Clearly, this was an expression he recognised.
“What is in the settlements, Arthur, dear?” she asked, though she still watched Odette’s uncle.
“Oh, just the usual, my love,” Lord Blackdown said at once, though Odette noticed the earl was sweating now, clearly realising, as her son had realised, that Lady Blackdown was going nowhere until she knew the details.
“Men’s business, my lady,” Uncle Guy said.
Odette suspected her uncle could have said nothing more calculated to make the lady dig in her heels, a conviction only strengthened as she saw the earl close his eyes.
“Oh, men’s business,” Lady Blackdown said, a dangerous edge to the softly spoken words. “How intriguing. Tell me, Arthur dear, is this the same men’s business you were discussing the night the marquis and his charming niece arrived here? The business where he was blackmailing you by threatening to expose your illegitimate daughter?”
There was a deathly silence, and the earl went the ghastliest shade of ivory Odette had ever seen. He staggered to a chair and sat down hard, clutching the arms so fiercely his knuckles were white. Odette gasped, fearing he would take ill.
“Fetch your father a cognac,” she said to Chance, who was gaping between his parents in obvious shock.
He just stood there, staring at the earl as if he was seeing him for the first time.
“Dépêche toi,” Odette urged, chivvying him up.
Chance jolted out of his trance and hurried to the decanter.
“My love,” the earl said, staring miserably at his wife. “My love….”
His voice was thick with emotion.
“What, Arthur, dear?” Lady Blackdown said gently.
The man who had exuded power and rugged health just moments earlier seemed to shrink before their eyes.
“I’m sorrier than you’ll ever know. We were barely married, and I… I did not realise what I had, did not realise the value, how precious it was. I was a damned fool. I have no excuses for you.”
His wife moved closer and reached for his hand, twining their fingers together. “How about that we were little more than children ourselves, and married far too young? That we barely knew each other, and that a marriage takes time and patience and commitment?”
“Lucy,” he said, staring at her in wonder. “You could forgive me?”
“I forgave you a very long time ago, Arthur.”
“You knew? You knew all these years?” he said, obviously stricken.
Lady Blackdown offered a sad smile and nodded. “I always hoped that you would tell me, but it is you who must forgive yourself. Your daughter is a fine girl and you’ve looked after her well, bu
t you must ask her forgiveness too, for keeping her a secret so long. That was not well done of you, my love.”
“No,” Lord Blackdown said, his expression one of such naked adoration Odette felt they ought not be there at all. “No, it was not.”
Lady Blackdown leaned down and kissed her husband’s forehead. “You learned a lesson, Arthur, and you never, ever let me down again… until now, that is.”
Lord Blackdown straightened, meeting his wife’s gaze. A touch of colour rose in a face that was handsome, if austere.
“Father,” Chance said, offering his sire a glass of brandy.
He met Chance’s cautious gaze and let out a soft laugh.
“Thank you,” he said, and took the glass, downing the drink in two large swallows.
Then he stood, straightened his waistcoat, and approached Odette. She watched him with trepidation as he reached for her hand.
“I hope you can forgive me for what has passed until now, for…. My behaviour has not been that of a gentleman, far from it. I pray you might forgive me for my hand in this sordid business and allow me to start over. I welcome you to our family, Odette. I only hope you will not hold my actions against my son, for he played no part in it. He is a good man, an honourable one, and I am proud of him.”
Chance looked taken aback by this, but Odette thought she saw relief in his eyes alongside the surprise. She thought perhaps he had waited a long time to hear such words. For her part, she was only too happy to forgive the man. The burden he had been under was obvious now it had been lifted from his shoulders. The change was apparent and immediate, a glint of warmth and sincerity visible in his expression where she had found none before.
“I should be most ’appy to do so, monseigneur.”
“English, child,” her uncle snapped. “The word is happy, and you address him as my lord.”
“You’ve said quite enough,” Chance said, turning on her uncle. “I think it best you leave and do it quickly. You will not be staying for Christmas.”
“Perhaps your wife might like to have a say in that decision, Chauncey, dear,” his mama remarked mildly, moving to stand beside her husband.
Winter's Wild Melody Page 7