“I did,” Louis replied, without a flicker of guilt. “My brother is the most honourable and best of men, your grace. He deserves to be happy, and he is certainly good enough to marry Eliza, duke’s daughter or no. There is nothing he can do about the circumstances of his birth, that is our father’s shame, not his. Nic loves Eliza with all his heart, and he would die before he allowed her to be hurt. They are meant to be together and though I am sorry it has happened this way because I know Nic will not easily forgive me, I am not sorry if my actions mean they will marry.”
“A very pretty sentiment,” the duke said coldly. “If it were not for the fact you’ve been angling for a connection to my family for months, and you well know the rest of the world will not agree with you. You’ve put Eliza in a position where those who are far beneath her will look down on her, and you damn well know it.”
“Shall we ask Aunt Helena if she regrets marrying Uncle Gabe, Papa?” Eliza said. She was still standing and had wrapped her arms about herself, but Louis could see she was trembling. “Do you wish you’d not given in and allowed her to marry Gabriel?”
Her voice cracked and Cassius reached forward to take her hand. He pulled her back to sit between him and Lottie, putting his arm about her.
“That’s entirely different,” the duke said.
“How is it different, Robert?” his wife asked him placidly. “Gabriel and Helena eloped to Gretna Green because you tried to keep them apart.”
The duke gave his wife a look of frustration before turning to Louis and Nic. “That goes no farther than this room.”
“Of course,” Louis replied. “We would never speak of it. After all, you are to be family now.”
“Not necessarily,” Bedwin replied coolly, biting the words out. “As far as we know, no one is aware of Eliza’s presence here. We have made a call on you this morning, a little early yes, but we can think of a reason for that. No one will have noticed Eliza was not with us when we arrived, so we can leave with no one the wiser. No harm done. Though you and I will be having a conversation when we get home, Eliza.”
“No.”
Everyone looked up, including Nic, as Eliza spoke.
“Eliza, let your father protect you. You did a foolish a thing, but you can still escape the consequences of it,” Nic said.
Louis could only feel compassion for the poor fool. He looked wretched. No doubt his head was killing him as well as his heart.
“No!” Eliza said again, angry now. “You pig-headed, obstinate man. You’re both as bad as each other.”
“Now wait a moment,” her father protested.
“No. I will not wait, and I will not be treated as though I did something silly without thinking it through. I know I did a dreadful thing and Nic has every right to be angry with me, but no one else does. I did think it through, as wicked as it was. I want to marry Nic, and no other. If he does not wish to marry me, then… then I must accept that, but unless he can look me in the eye and tell me so, tell me that he does not love me, I will not believe it.”
She turned her attention to Nic, who let out a breath of frustration and rubbed a hand over his face.
“Eliza…” he said, a note of pleading to her name, but he clearly could not do as she asked.
A triumphant expression dawned upon Eliza’s face, and she smiled.
“Good. I am glad that is settled, because Nic really must marry me.”
There was a taut silence.
“Eliza?” her father said, something in his voice setting the fine hairs on the back of Louis’s neck all on end. “Why must he marry you?”
“Because….” Eliza replied, her cheeks blazing as she took a deep breath and forced the words out. “I’ve been compromised.”
Nic gaped at her, his already pale complexion segueing into something closer to alabaster.
“Non,” he said in disbelief, shaking his head. “I—”
“You bastard,” the duke said, his fists clenched. “You mean to say you destroyed her chance of marrying another and you deny it?”
“Non!” Nic repeated, a glint of panic in his eyes as he stared at Eliza.
Louis realised he must have been half seas over last night because the poor devil couldn’t remember. He could hardly embarrass Eliza or infuriate the duke further by admitting that, though. Nic grasped at his hair, his face the picture of regret and guilt.
“I… Mon Dieu, Eliza, I… I am so sorry.”
Eliza’s eyes filled with tears and she shook her head, her hands twisting together.
“Don’t, Nic. Don’t be sorry, I…” she said, her voice thick. “Please I… I’m sorry. It’s all my fault and… and….”
Louis watched in dismay as her hand lifted to her temples and swayed. She crumpled to the floor with a flurry of skirts and petticoats.
“Eliza!” Nic was beside her in an instant, lifting her into his arms. He laid her on the sofa and chafed her hands. “Eliza, mon amour. Wake up, please. Don’t worry, you must not worry. I will make it right. I’ll do anything you want, love.”
Louis turned to look at the duke who was studying Nic. Eliza was coming around.
“He loves her,” Louis said quietly. “I know you do not like or trust either of us, and I cannot blame you for this. Yet, for all I hold the title, Nic is the better man. He cannot change his blood, but he will never let her down in any way that matters. I know this. He would move mountains to make her happy. If you supported them, it would not be so bad as you fear.”
The duchess nodded, then took her husband by the arm and pulled him away. The two of them stood speaking together, heads bent.
Nic had given up any pretence of being anything other than a man in love and fussed about Eliza, sending her sister off to fetch her a glass of water and propping her up with cushions. Louis watched with a smile. Well, Nic might never speak to him again, but at least he would be happy.
Eliza looked up as her mother approached her.
“Are you well, darling?” The duchess asked with concern. “All this excitement must have worn you out.”
“I’m fine, Mama. I am only sorry for making such a scene on top of everything else. It’s so ridiculous swooning whenever I get overwrought. I do hope it stops in time, for it makes me feel quite foolish.”
“I need to get that blasted doctor back,” Nic growled. “He thinks because you have recovered that the threat is passed. Well, it damn well isn’t. I had better remind him of that fact.”
There was a shocked silence.
“You brought Dr Archambeau to England?” Bedwin asked, his astonishment obvious.
Nic turned at the question, frowning.
“Yes, he did,” Louis said to the duke before Nic could make out it was nothing. “I told you. He would move mountains. That particular mountain will cost him dearly one day. Perhaps tomorrow, or perhaps in years to come, but he will pay. But nothing is too much for Eliza. He was beside himself all the time she was ill.”
The duke let out a long breath and folded his arms. Everyone waited until he spoke. “I cannot pretend anything about this situation pleases me, but… it seems, for the moment at least, there is no choice. Mr Demarteau, you have leave to court my daughter. We will announce the engagement shortly.”
Louis grinned and was about to congratulate them both when the duke spoke again.
“However, the engagement will only be until we are certain Eliza is not with child.”
“Papa!” Eliza exclaimed in horror, but her father held up a hand and silenced her.
“By then, you will have discovered a little of what it will be like to be married to this man, to be a part of his world, and you will see how he fits into yours. So, then we will discuss the situation again. If there is a child, you will have no option but to marry. If not, and you have come to your senses, the engagement will be at an end.”
“But—”
“But,” the duke said, speaking over his daughter, his expression resigned, “if by then there is no change in your
feelings, I will support your marriage.”
He hardly sounded overjoyed at the prospect, but Louis supposed he could not really blame the man for that.
“I won’t change my mind, so it is pointless hoping that I will,” Eliza warned him crossly.
“Eliza,” Nic said, taking her hand. “Your father is trying to protect you and he is quite right. If nothing changes, if you are certain I am the man you want, then I will marry you and consider myself the luckiest of men. If, however, you discover, as I believe you will, that our lives are too disparate to come together easily, you may walk away from me, and I will understand and offer you no reproach.”
Eliza’s expression was fierce as she replied. “You think me a faint-hearted creature indeed, all of you.”
Nic's voice was tender and sincere. “I think you are the bravest, strongest woman I have ever met, Eliza, else I would not have fallen so hard. I only want your happiness.”
Louis saw Lottie give a sigh of pleasure at Nic’s words and go a little misty-eyed. Cassius smiled and hugged her to him. Eliza only had eyes for Nic.
“You make me happy, Nic. Only you.”
“Oh!” Lottie wailed, snivelling and searching her reticule for a handkerchief which clearly wasn’t there. Louis handed her his, and she snatched it with a word of thanks, blowing her nose noisily.
“Good grief,” muttered the duke.
Chapter 13
Fred,
you are a rotten friend and I’m not talking to you.
Now tell me everything about Eliza!
―Excerpt of a letter from Lady Catherine ‘Cat’ Barrington (youngest daughter of the Marquess and Marchioness of Montagu) to Lord Frederick Adolphus (younger son of the Duke and Duchess of Bedwin).
4th April 1839, Hans Place, Knightsbridge.
With a little help from her mother and sister, Eliza was granted a few moments’ privacy to say goodbye to Nic. When their father had grumbled about leaving them alone, Lottie had rather bluntly asked if that horse had not bolted. The duke had gritted his teeth and stalked out.
Now she had him to herself, Eliza felt ill. Her head was pounding, and she had not needed to feign swooning earlier. The stress of the day and guilt over what she had done weighed her down. She did not feel she’d behaved well at all, even though her intentions had been for the best. Worse, Nic was looking at her with such concern and… and she must tell him the truth. Even if he hated her for it.
“Are you well, love?” Nic cupped her face with his hand. It was big and coarse, and Eliza sighed, turning into it like a cat seeking a caress. “You’re awfully pale.”
“I’m fine,” she said, not very convincing. “It’s just—”
“Do you regret it?” he asked, his voice rough.
Despite everything, Eliza rolled her eyes. “No! Of course I don’t regret it. Do you really think I would have done all of this if I wasn’t certain? It’s only… Oh, Nic, I’ve trapped you and… and what I said, it wasn’t even true.”
He frowned at her. “Which bit?”
Eliza sighed. “Not the bit where I said I loved you and wanted to marry you.”
“Oh.” He stared at her. “You mean…?”
“I mean the bit where I made you look like a wicked seducer of innocents, when you’re nothing of the sort.”
His mouth fell open.
“Dieu merci,” he said, his relief obvious and heartfelt and only making her feel worse than ever. “Thank God, I… I couldn’t bear the thought that I… that we’d… and I couldn’t remember.”
“I’m so sorry, Nic,” she said, feeling her eyes prickle with tears that he was only glad and not angry with her. “I wouldn’t blame you if you never trusted me ever again after this, though I swear I will never lie to you again. I did it so you couldn’t escape me, though, so that papa had no option to agree to our marriage. Aren’t you very cross with me?”
He let out a breath and snorted. “Of course I’m cross, I’m furious with you for being so damned reckless, but I… Oh, for heaven’s sake, Eliza. You did all this for me, to be with me. How can I be angry about that?”
Eliza let out a sob of relief and buried her face in his chest, clinging to him.
“I won’t change my mind, Nic. I won’t.”
Nic tilted her head towards him and wiped a stray tear away with his thumb. “Let us not think on it, Eliza. We will take these weeks that have been given us, and I for one will live every moment of them. You wanted me to court you, so court you I will. Properly, as you deserve.”
He kissed her, chaste and tender, and drew back with a wicked grin as Eliza pressed closer, seeking more.
“Oh, no, little minx. You must behave yourself. This will be done properly from now on, even if it bloody well kills me.”
“And what if it kills me?” Eliza demanded tartly.
“You made your bed, darling,” he whispered in her ear. “Now you must lie in it.”
“Alone!” she said, huffing. “Where’s the fun in being brazen and dreadful if I my reward is yet more respectability?”
“Ma pauvre petite, how you suffer,” he crooned, leaning down to kiss her cheek.
“Eliza!” Lottie called from down the hallway. “You’d best come now before Papa has an apoplexy.”
Eliza sighed. “Oh, very well, but when shall I see you again?”
“I will call on you tomorrow.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
Nic pressed a last kiss to her lips and with that, Eliza had to be satisfied.
Louis had escaped once the duke had given Nic and Eliza a few moments alone together. He knew he must face his brother again, but he felt in no desperate hurry to do so. Nic’s temper was best given time to calm. Louis wasn’t so addled as to expect to forgiveness, but perhaps it might not be so bad once Nic had time to reflect on everything he’d gained today. So, he took a Hackney, with no very clear idea of where he was going, and found himself back in the bustle of Covent Garden Market.
The gentlemen’s club where he had spent last night was here on Henrietta Street. Hunter’s, owned by Nathanial Hunt, was a different beast from Rouge et Noir. Since Hunt had become brother-in-law to the Marquess of Montagu, one of the most powerful men in the country, Hunter’s had become the most exclusive club in the city, catering only to a very select clientele, and money was not the prevailing factor for gaining entry. Getting in was nigh on impossible unless you knew someone. Happily for Louis, Cassius had put in a good word for him, but his membership was still only a temporary one. Rouge et Noir, whilst also catering to the richest and most powerful in Paris, was less select. Everyone met there. The artistic community loved it, and the rich enjoyed rubbing shoulders with the notorious and eclectic melange of people that gathered there, men and women alike. It was not entirely respectable. For this reason, Nic had forced Louis to keep his distance for some years, and Louis had resented it quite badly. His life seemed dull and colourless when he was so closely watched by the beau monde in case he did something shocking and revealed himself not to be one of them.
Their father’s plans for Louis had been just that, their father’s plans. Nic had so desperately wanted his father’s love and admiration that he had made a solemn promise to ensure Louis took his place in the world and restored their name to what it had been. Nic always kept his promises. It had done him no good. Their father had died despising Nic’s illegitimacy as much as he always had. Not that he had any affection for Louis, either. His heir had never been more than a means to an end. No matter how Louis had worked to learn everything he must know to be the Comte de Villen, it had never been enough. The only difference was, Louis had never cared for his father, or his good opinion. He was a fool who’d cast Nic’s mother aside without a backwards glance, let Louis’s mother down and abandoned his baby son.
Louis had no intention of ever forgiving him for that. Anything he did, he did for Nic. Nic wanted this for him as much as his father had, but his reasons were different.
He wanted Louis to have what was his birthright, for him to be where he belonged. Except Louis did not feel like he belonged. But Nic had saved him from a life of abuse and penury, and cared for him in a way no one else ever had. Louis would never forget that.
Hunter’s was closed now, sadly, for Louis would have liked to take a nap in one of their quieter rooms. He’d not slept at all last night. He’d spent much of it gambling with Ashton Anson, whose company he enjoyed. Ash was an easy-going fellow and did not pry, though Louis suspected he saw more than he let on. As his membership was not yet confirmed, Louis had taken pains to behave himself and not win any large sums of money that might have raised alarm. Still, he could not force himself to lose either, and he knew he had attracted attention.
Tant pis—oh, English, Louis—never mind.
For now, he just wandered the market. He liked it here. It reminded him of the bustle of Paris and their old life at Franconi’s.
On every side, one’s senses were assaulted, not always pleasantly, but there were delights to be found. The flower stalls were not as gaudy as they would be later in the year, but there were still blooms enough to put on display and the fruit and veg was the best to be found anywhere. Louis bought a meat pie from a stall whose scent was enough to make his stomach clamour with hunger, and he ate it with relish, realising he’d not eaten a bite since last night. He finished and rubbed at his chin, irritated by the prickle of his beard and wondering when it might be safe to go home. Louis was considering this point when a small figure crashed into him.
“Oh, sorry, guv,” the girl said… at least, he thought it might be a girl beneath the layers of grime.
She turned to bolt, but Louis had run streets like these and learned a very similar trade. He snatched at her wrist and held on.
“Give it back, child,” he said with amusement.
“I ain’t got nothing! Let me go! Let me go!” she protested, tugging at her wrist and squirming furiously.
Dare to be Brazen (Daring Daughters Book 2) Page 15