The Deception

by Catherine Coulter

  He laughed. He plucked Edmund off his shoulders and set his feet on the sand. “Fetch us towels, Edmund, and cover yourself well. I don’t want you to catch a chill. Perhaps your cousin Eve would care to join us.”

  She didn’t move an inch until he finally took a large towel his son brought to him and began to dry himself. “Eve,” Edmund called, running to her even as he wiped himself down. “Did you see us? Papa threw me in the water, and I swam like a sea bass. Papa said I’d have to be careful because a fisherman might try to catch me because I swam so well. Then he’d fry me in a pan and eat me. Come and say hello to Papa.”

  What was a stunned and fascinated woman to do? She walked beside Edmund to where the duke was standing. Finally, he’d knotted the towel around his waist, and draped another over his shoulder. She studied that knot at great length. It looked well tied, but she knew she could have it unknotted in a second, two at the most.

  “Papa said that ladies can’t swim,” Edmund said. He dropped to his knees and began scooping up sand, piling it up, patting it down, shaping it into conelike shapes. Castle towers? Then he began digging a trench.

  “Your papa is quite wrong. Here, Edmund, put on your clothes, then I’ll know you’re warm enough. What are you building?”

  “Papa’s never wrong, cousin Eve. I’m going to build Chesleigh Castle.”

  “Perhaps,” the duke said, “I can teach you how to swim even better.”

  “I don’t need lessons. I’m a fish, just like Edmund. I’m more a lizard fish than a sea bass.”

  “Get dressed, Edmund,” the duke called over his shoulder. “Tell me why you’re here, Evangeline.”

  “It’s February and it’s very warm. I was out walking. Nothing more than walking until I happened to come down here and there you were and you didn’t have any clothes on. At least now you have on a towel, and there’s one about your shoulders as well, but that really isn’t the same thing at all as breeches and a shirt and other things that men wear.” “I see. You enjoy seeing the scenery, then?” “Certainly. I was raised in the country. There is always beautiful scenery in the country, particularly down on the beach, coming out of the water.”

  He knew he was very well made indeed, like his father before him. He also boxed at Gentleman Jackson’s, as his father had before him. He was fit and lean and hard, as his father had been before him. He grinned at her like a thief with an eye on the silver. “I would certainly have enjoyed the scenery if I’d been the one out walking and come across you coming out of the sea.”

  Her tongue stuck in her mouth. Never would she have imagined such a thing, never. She, a young lady, raised properly, she was certain of that, and yet all she could think of since she’d met him was that she wanted to leap on him and kiss him until she expired. She thought he’d continue to tease her, because he was so good at it, baiting her and reeling her in more times than not, but oddly, after a moment his dark eyes searched her face, his expression thoughtful.

  “You must go back to the castle, Evangeline,” he said very gently. “I’ll try to see that Edmund doesn’t shout to the world that his cousin Eve watched both him and his father swimming.”

  She looked out over the water, then back at him. “I can’t believe that I’m doing this.” “Doing what?”

  “You know very well what. I was standing here just staring at you. You know that. And what I did last night. I’m not like that. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I am sorry. I’m just not myself. I guess, truth be told, I don’t know who I am. And then there is what I must be, and that is very bad indeed. It’s all very difficult.” She turned on her heel and began her walk back up the cliff path without a backward glance.

  Evangeline overheard Mrs. Raleigh say to Bassick as she came around the corner at the top of the grand staircase on her way to luncheon, “I’ll miss him, Mr. Bassick. He wasn’t here long enough this time. I wonder why he must return to London? And on Friday? Why, that’s only three days from now.”

  She heard Bassick say something, but she couldn’t make out his words. Then Mrs. Raleigh said, as clear as the church bell on Sunday morning, “I was rather hoping that since Madame arrived, his grace would be content to remain longer.”

  “Well, his grace never does the expected,” Bassick said, and this time she heard him. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, the two of them were standing there, smiling at her. There was a bit of assessment in Mrs. Raleigh’s eyes. Evangeline knew that the duke would be leaving. But Friday was too soon. She didn’t want him to leave so soon. Appalled at herself, she knew he was making it much easier for her by leaving. Why was he going? “Madame, good afternoon,” Bassick said. “No unexpected guests as yet?” she asked. “I wouldn’t have been surprised,” said Mrs. Raleigh. “Lady Pemberly is a good lady, truly; it’s just that she rather likes to tread upon everyone in her vicinity. So unlike Lady Charlotte, Rohan Carrington’s dear mama, a lady who is so charming that everyone is in a rush to assist her or simply stand there staring at her, she’s so beautiful.”

  “I understand,” Bassick said, all upright and stately, “that Lady Charlotte is also very much involved in the cat races.”

  “That, Mr. Bassick, is surely a great sport. But even there, I fear, there is some scandal and corruption.” “There is corruption in the cat races?” Evangeline said, eyebrows raised.

  “Oh, yes,” Bassick said, nodding his head. “Wherever there is an exchange of money, there are those who will be up to no good. There have been investigations, and most of the excesses and abuses have been eliminated.”

  “It is a shame that the cats can’t race for the sheer fun of it,” Mrs. Raleigh said as she shook out the skirt of her lovely pink gown. Was it the same pink gown she’d worn just this morning at breakfast? Evangeline wasn’t at all certain that it was.

  Evangeline said, “I head you saying that the duke is leaving.”

  “Ah, yes, we’re disappointed,” Mrs. Raleigh said. “We’d hoped he’d remain longer on this visit.” She paused, then smiled. “Of course, when all is said and done, one simply never knows, does one? Ah, the forest green muslin is indeed a treat on you, Madame. I see that Dorrie removed all the flounces that used to drape off the hem. Most disconcerting, those flounces. Her former grace loved this dress, flounces and all. She refused to accept that they were a bit on the overdone side.”

  Evangeline nodded, thinking about Houchard, who’d known all about Marissa and her clothing. He’d said, “You won’t have to wear your rags long, Mademoiselle, you will see. Ah, yes, his grace will drape you with lovely clothes from his dead wife’s closet.” He’d given her a very cold smile then. “And, of course, he will want payment from you; men of his class always do. You will do what you must to keep him in ignorance of your activities.” He’d paused again, rubbing his chin with one long, thin finger. “I worry that you will lose your head over him, Mademoiselle. Foolish of me to be worried about that given the fact that I have your dear father, and he is but a heartbeat from death, but still, I understand the duke is a man that women want, wildly. I don’t understand it since he is English and all know that the English are clods and boors. However, if it is true, you will keep your head, Mademoiselle. And if you do part your legs for him, and if you do whisper to him after he’s given you pleasure, you won’t ever forget that I have a gun at your father’s head.”

  She wished now that the duke had already left. Houchard had even been right about that. The duke was a man like none other she’d ever met. He was a man she’d never imagined could exist. And he hated Napoleon. Soon, she would be no better than Edgerton. The thought made her want to vomit.

  When she met the duke in the dining room, she was still thinking of the pit yawning at her feet, her brain squirreling about for a solution, for anything that could keep her from betraying him, from betraying her country. He was standing by his chair at the head of the table, smiling slightly. She tried to smile back at him, but the guilt was eating at her innards and she knew the pain of
it showed on her face.

  The devilment in his dark eyes immediately disappeared. “What’s wrong?”

  Her head snapped up. “Wrong?” Oh, God, was she so transparent? If she was, it boded ill for her success, for her father’s life. “Why, nothing, your grace.” “You looked like you’ve lost your favorite pet.” That brought a wan smile. “No, although I loved my pug Bonnie very much. It was a very long time before I wanted another dog.”

  “You have disarmed me, flushed me out of the bushes. I was going to tease you, perhaps try to make you blush for your quite refreshing and quite improper behavior on the beach. You are always surprising me, Evangeline. Come, sit down. You can see Edmund after your lunch.”

  It was not until after the duke had dismissed the footman that he said, “What were you thinking about?”

  “Nothing, really,” she said, and fell silent. She must become a liar. It would be the only way she had a chance to survive. She raised her chin as she watched him fork several slices of very thinly sliced ham onto his place. She should say something utterly boring, something that would nauseate him with its blandness, but what came out of her mouth was “I was afraid you and Edmund would freeze in that water.” “I was too, but Edmund was determined. We were only in the water for ten minutes, no more. We swim when I’m in residence here and if the weather is mild enough. It’s invigorating, to say the least. It will freeze the hide off your bones to say the best. That doesn’t sound like it makes sense, but it does. Do you understand?” “Yes.”

  “Edmund and I are usually down at the cove at about the same time every morning. Oh, yes, I saw you coming out of the cave. Do have a care if you visit it again, especially when the tide is coming in. When I was a boy, I was foolish enough to hide there from my tutor, and got a good soaking. My father did too since he had to save me. I remember it was one of the very few times that he gave me a good hiding.” She smiled, trying to picture him as Edmund’s size. It wasn’t possible. “I’ll be careful. I noticed that the cave walls were damp and covered with slime. When the tide is high, it fills the cave completely?” “Very nearly.”

  “It’s a pity that one can’t continue walking to the south of the cave, but the cliff juts right out into the sea.”

  “Yes. But still the remaining scenery must have pleased you.” Why couldn’t he leave it alone? He was losing what little was left of his brain.

  “Indeed. I never try to miss an educational opportunity.”

  One of his black eyebrows shot up. “Surely I didn’t provide you with an excess of new knowledge. I’m just a man like your husband, the saintly André.”

  She nearly choked on the bite of peas. She’d blundered. Lie, she thought, lie very well or you’ll sink. Her chin went up. “No, don’t be silly. Naturally you were nothing at all new to me. You were something quite old, in fact. I believe, however, that the towel you were wearing knotted around your waist was new, very new, I would say, given my examination of it. Behold. I am a woman of the world, your grace.”

  “I was just thinking that,” he said and she knew he was mocking her and enjoying himself. “I knew just how worldly you were after I— No, I won’t say any more. It isn’t well done of me. Finish your lunch, Evangeline.”

  She was shaking her head. “I’ve come to realize that I’m the perfect foil for you. You can sharpen your wit endlessly on me.”

  “Fair is fair. It’s what my mother does to me. Now, don’t get me wrong. You’re quick, you’ve a ready tongue— No, I won’t continue along those lines. Those lines would surely bring me lower than I am right now.”

  “Perhaps it’s time I left you,” she said, and prepared to rise.

  “No, don’t go. I would consider it running away. Come, Evangeline, admit it. You enjoy trying to outdo me verbally.”

  She settled back into her seat. She folded her hands and propped up her chin. “I try never to run away, even when it would be in my best interest. As to outdoing you, well, I have to admit that you’re not a nitwit, as I have found most Englishmen to be.”

  The duke nodded agreeably. “Since you grew up in the country, in Somerset, I’m not at all surprised at your prejudice. Red-faced squires abound. Provincial locals swagger about. Little lordlings have their noses in the air and their brains beneath their boots. All in all, I would agree that the lot of them wouldn’t provide an impressionable girl exquisite examples of wit and grace and elegance.”

  “As in the qualities you exemplify?”

  “Certainly. I trust you say that without irony. Now, was your husband such a man like those in Somerset? Tongue-tied around you? Only dealt well with his horses? A crashing bore at dinner? Dozed in the parlor after drinking too much port?” “Certainly not. He was French.” “Shall I describe him, then? Let me see. He was short, quite dark, was thin through the chest, swaggered about on skinny legs, and undoubtedly possessed of an oily kind of charm, and didn’t bathe every day.”

  Evangeline saw the hole she’d dug at her feet. She’d described her mythical dead husband, André, with Henri in mind, the young man who’d wanted her in France. The duke’s description fit him quite nicely.

  “He bathed often,” she said. Then remembered that Henri was addicted to the cologne bottle. She’d hated that musky, slightly sour smell on him. She frowned. “At least I think he did.”

  “You think he bathed often? Really, Evangeline, if you had half the curiosity in your husband that you have shown for me in the past two days, I can’t imagine that you would have any doubts at all on the subject.”

  For a long moment she simply stared at him, knowing she was near to slipping into that hole at her feet, deeper now than it had been just a minute before. “Er, actually, André, well, I’m not really certain. You see, he was a very modest gentleman.”

  “He sounds like an idiot, a—” The duke stopped, seeing that Evangeline was quite red in the face. “Forgive me,” he said, rising slowly. “He was your husband. Now, I’m off to see a new hunter. Enjoy your afternoon. My heartfelt best wishes in your time with Edmund.” He paused by her chair, looking down at her. “Is there anything I may bring you?”

  Yes, she thought, he could bring her a very different life. He could bring her father freedom. He could not then look at her with hatred and contempt. She shook her head, mute.

  “Very well. When I return, would you like to go riding with me? I have some business with several tenants. I can show you some of my favorite spots.” One more time, she thought. Surely it wouldn’t be horrible to have one more time alone with him. She nodded. “I should like that very much.” “Excellent. I will see you later.”

  Chapter 17

  “There are too many letters. I never know when one should go behind another or in front of it. And nothing that sounds right has the same letters in it. Surely I don’t need to know all those letters? Just the ones that the words sound like?”

  Evangeline said as she patted Edmund’s small hand, “I know there are lots and lots of letters. I hadn’t realized that there were perhaps too many of them. You’re probably right. And there are endless combinations, Edmund. I believe you must simply forgive all the long-dead folk who came up with them, and accept that all the letters, all the strange combinations, are here to stay. You’ve no choice in the matter. You must simply gird your loins. I learned them. Surely you, as a very bright boy, can also learn them.”

  He looked convinced for only a moment. Not good headway. She said then, “I thought, Edmund, that you wished to be like your father.” His whole face changed. He straightened and said in a very creditable lordly voice, “I am like my father. Grandmama has told me countless times I’m like my father and like my grandfather, and I remember him very well. He was a wonderful grandfather, but then he died, like my mama, and I didn’t see him anymore.”

  “Your father knows how to read and write, as did his father before him. Your father girded his loins, stiffened his spine, and learned every letter and every combination.”

  “You’re rig
ht,” Edmund said slowly. “I’ve seen him read. You don’t think he’s pretending to read just to draw me in so I’ll do it too?” “I’d guess he enjoys reading.” He eyed her suspiciously. She examined her thumbnail. “If you learn your letters, Edmund, I promise you that after your father returns to London, I’ll swim with you mornings that are warm enough.” She frankly couldn’t imagine even sticking her toe in the cold sea, but if it remained warm, she’d do so. And she’d teach Edmund how to swim better than his father had.

  He looked her up and down. “You are big enough,” he said, then leaned over to feel her arm muscle. She flexed it. “Yes,” he said, “and you’re strong, for a girl.” But still he fidgeted, looking everywhere but at the blocks of letters strewn out over the desktop.

  She sighed deeply and folded her hands over her heart. “All right, if you learn your letters, then I’ll play the highwayman and you can chase me down.” “Can I shoot you once I catch you?” “Yes,” she said, her head drooping. “You can shoot me.”

  Edmund smiled. He squared his shoulders. “All right, I’ll do it.”

  “A is for an apple that’s big and red and tastes tart and wonderful.” She placed her hand over Edmund’s fingers, tracing the letter. “Can you think of another word that begins with A?”

  Edmund said almost immediately, “A is for ass. Papa’s always calling Phillip Mercerault an ass. I can’t tell you what Phillip calls him. It’s not a good word, my papa told me, for a lady’s sensitive ears. He said I was never to say it unless I was alone or with my pony.”