080072089X (R) (41 page)

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Authors: Ruth Axtell

Tags: #FIC027050, #Aristocracy (Social class)—Fiction, #London (England)—Social life and customs—19th century—Fiction, #FIC042030, #FIC042040, #Great Britain—History—George III (1760–1820)—Fiction

BOOK: 080072089X (R)
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He shook his head. “Nothing. That is, nothing bad. Please, I don’t mean to cause you alarm when you’ve only just stepped in the door.”

She smiled, relief evident. “I would have returned earlier if I’d known you would be here. Has Valentine offered you anything?”

“Yes, she did. I didn’t need anything. But you must be parched if you have been walking—”

“No, I’m fine. Please, have a seat,” she said, motioning back to the sofa. “Are you sure you don’t care for some tea?”

He tried to smile in reassurance but couldn’t quite pull it off. The stakes were too high, and the moment of truth had arrived.

She peered into his face. “What is it?” she asked softly.

He didn’t bother to sit down but took a deep breath. “I’ve been asked to accompany Castlereagh to Vienna.”

She blinked as if not having expected that. “I thought you were part of the British Legation to Paris.”

“I was . . . am. But, I’ve just been told that Castlereagh is coming
through Paris on his way to Vienna. Wellington has asked me if I wish to be assigned to Castlereagh for the congress.”

Céline’s hands were clasped in front of her. She took a step back and looked away from him. “I see. Goodness, what a surprise. But it’s a good thing, is it not? I should think it an honor to be involved in the work of the congress.” She smiled, holding out a hand. “I . . . offer you my congratulations. When will you be leaving?”

He took her hand, grasping it firmly, as if needing her support. “In three days—Sunday. Castlereagh is expected tomorrow.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh.”

As he felt her hand pulling away, he tightened his hold, bringing his other hand up to cover it. “I wished to . . . that is . . . will you marry me?” The words came out in a rush.

Her eyes rounded. She tugged at her hand, and he let it go. She stepped away from him, turning her back to him. “I . . . I don’t know what to say.”

Had he miscalculated? Misread her? “I know it is all very sudden. It’s not the way I had planned—”

“You hardly know me, Rees.”

“I know you are a kind, brave, compassionate woman, who regarded her lowly butler as a human being worthy of her time and attention.”

Still she didn’t turn around. “I . . . I did as any . . . any mistress would do for one of her servants.”

“I don’t think so.” Although his voice remained firm, his hope was slipping. Of course she wouldn’t consider marrying him.

“I would not have you destroy your new career just as it is beginning. I believe you have an impressive future ahead of you. You do not need to be saddled with a traitress.”

He gave a laugh of disbelief. “No one has accused you of anything.”

“But you and I know the truth. What would your British government say if they knew your loyalties were divided?”

He had wrestled with the problem and come to his own peace. If he had to choose, he knew he would give up the diplomatic service.
“Our countries are no longer at war. The future demands we work together. France will be the poorer if individuals like you stop working on her behalf for the freedom of her people. And . . .” He forced himself to continue, despite his fear. “And, together, we can work to help uphold the peace of Europe.”

If his words affected her, she did not let on. She raised a fine eyebrow. “And how would we ever be able to trust one another? Would we be loyal to one another first, or to our respective countries?”

“To God, I would hope.”

Céline stared at Rees, silenced by his words. His proposal caught her by surprise. She had suspected his feelings, certainly, but she’d hoped for more time.

Time to plan . . . time to harden her heart. Now, he caught her when she was vulnerable. It would be too easy to give in to his moving words, the tender look in his eyes, to her very own deepest needs and desires.

No! She wouldn’t saddle him with a barren woman. She wouldn’t make him come to hate her as the earl had. As the minutes ticked by, she knew she could not marry Rees and destroy his future. She must be strong.

To escape his keen gaze, she stood before the window, looking out to the street as she formulated what to say.

He took a step toward her. “Marry me and come with me to Vienna. You are in danger here in Paris. I saw how de la Roche spoke to you yesterday. He means to harm you.”

She gave a short laugh. “I don’t think he’s forgiven me for besting him in England.”

“Then it will only be a matter of time before he discovers how I bested him.”

She turned to stare at him. “How you bested him?”

“If he woke up in a garden shed the night you left Dover, with the door jammed on him, and a knot on his head the size of a bowline, he has me to thank.”

She gasped. “What did you do to him?”

“I stopped him the night you crossed the English Channel.”

She shook her head at the image of de la Roche bested by Rees. “So, I have much more for which to be grateful to . . . my butler than I realized.”

“I don’t want your gratitude.”

How she longed to reach up and touch his face.

“There is something else you should know. I debated whether to tell you or not, but I think there should be only truth between us.”

Her heartbeat began to quicken. What other awful revelations were still to come? When would her sordid history of spying be finished?

“It was your sister-in-law who betrayed you to the British. That was why I was sent to spy on you.”

“Agatha?” she breathed.

“Yes.”

She brought a hand to her face, her thoughts trying to make sense of it. “I knew she disliked me, but I never thought she’d go to such lengths.”

“I found her journal shortly before you left London. Perhaps you didn’t realize how intensely she disliked you.”

She stared at him, feeling the blood drain from her face.

“I didn’t mean to upset you more.”

She shook her head. “No, that’s quite all right. I appreciate knowing the truth. It’s just that—” Words and looks of her sister-in-law’s came back to her. She should have suspected. Céline gave a short laugh. “I should have known, yet I scarcely thought her competent enough.”

“It doesn’t take much competence to whisper a suspicion in someone’s ear, especially when they are a guest in your house.”

Céline had to sit down. “I haven’t been in contact with my sister-in-law since I left England. Where is she now?”

“Continuing to live in your London townhouse.”

“She must have blackened my reputation among the
ton
.”

“Actually, she has said little about you. As far as I know, she has allowed the story to circulate that you went to France to aid a sick
relative. Perhaps now that she has achieved her aims, she feels it would reflect poorly on herself, as well as on the late earl, to lord it about that you were a French spy.”

Céline smiled. “You are doubtless right. Poor Agatha.”

He seemed surprised. “You are not angry with her?”

“Would you be? Isn’t her bitterness punishment enough?”

“Yes.” When she said nothing more, he said, “You are a noble woman.”

She knotted her hands together when the silence drew out. He came toward her. “Let me protect you. I know de la Roche won’t rest until he enacts his view of justice. Come to Vienna.”

When she said nothing, her heart torn, he knelt at her side. “I know I have little to offer you; I’m only starting out in the diplomatic service, but I have spoken to Wellington.” He smiled ruefully. “Forgive me for my presumption in bringing up your name, but I wanted to have him know my intentions toward you . . . in case the British held anything against you.”

Ah, perhaps, there she would have him. His job security. “And?”

“Wellington would welcome you with open arms. It was he who suggested bringing you to Vienna with me.” He smiled. “He said he would prefer you work on our side than against us.” He sobered. “Even if the British did accuse you of something, we could emigrate to America.”

He would give up his dreams for her?

“I hadn’t meant to ask you in this way, but things changed all of a sudden. I had wanted to spend this time in Paris to court you properly. I realize I am not a gentleman to aspire to so noble a lady—”

“What nonsense!”

His gray eyes stared into hers. “Have I been a pretentious fool to suppose you felt something for me? Tell me now—and I shan’t bother you anymore—I promise.”

She couldn’t let him think that. “You have not been at all pretentious! You shouldn’t be wasting yourself on someone like me! Much less
sacrifice your career. All you need is a brilliant marriage to a wealthy debutante, and you will quickly rise to the top of the diplomatic corps—”

“Like the one forced upon you?”

His words left her speechless. How could she fight his onslaught? For every argument, he had a solution. Suddenly, she teared up. No, she mustn’t let him see she was weakening. She blinked back her tears and stood. “Oh, please don’t make this harder for me!” She took a turn about the room and came to a standstill before him, swiping angrily at her eyes. “You haven’t thought this through. You are so high-minded, and I’m frivolous . . . and I will hurt your career—”

He smiled down at her indulgently. “Do you think I spent ten years of my life in the Foreign Office to let that monstrous edifice come between me and the woman I love?”

She swallowed, stunned by his words. “L-love?”

He put his hands on her shoulders and gave her a little shake. “Yes, my dear, sweet republican. Love. Do you truly think any of the other is worth losing you—and any chance for happiness?”

Her lips trembled.

“What is it—why won’t you have me?” he asked gently.

It was her undoing.

“You said you wanted a family—” she blurted out at last. Her voice broke. “Don’t you see, I am barren!”

The ugly word stood between them.

Instead of bowing his head in acquiescence, he strengthened his hold on her. “Is that all it is?”

She stared at him. “Is that all! Isn’t that enough?” Her voice firmed. “No, Rees, I will not destroy your life. Go home to England and marry your English girl.”

When Rees at last left—unwillingly—Céline sank down on the sofa with her head in her hands. She had done the right thing, she kept repeating to herself.

Why then did her heart feel so empty?

“You fool!”

She lifted her head at Valentine’s contemptuous tone. She should have known her maid would have heard the whole thing. “I hope you weren’t standing there when Rees—Mr. Phillips left.”

“Is that what he calls himself now?”

“That is his real name.” She leaned back against the sofa, too tired to get up. “I thought you didn’t like him.”

“I don’t.”

“Then why did you call me a fool?”

Valentine folded her arms across her chest and eyed Céline as if she were a recalcitrant child. “What does is matter whether I like him or not? It’s clear he is besotted with you. He’ll do anything for you.” She jutted her chin at her. “Does he know of your wealth or does he think you live in poverty now?”

“I don’t think so.”

“He’s not even a fortune hunter! If I know that one, he’ll rise to the top.”

Céline bit her lip to keep from crying. Even Valentine could see Rees’s sterling qualities. “B-but . . .” She tried again, her lips trembling over the words. “But I c-can’t give him children.”

“Bah! What of that. If he doesn’t care?”

“But he will someday.” She brought her fist up to her mouth, determined not to give in to tears, for she knew if once she began to cry, she wouldn’t be able to stop.

The next day she received a note from Rees.

My Dearest Céline,
Yesterday I didn’t mean to make light of your fears of being childless—or, rather, of not being able to give me children. Children are a blessing of the Lord, and while it is true that I would have loved to have children, given the choice, I would much rather have you. There is no question in my mind about that.
I have loved you almost from the moment I met you. Even though we were on opposing sides during the war, I came to admire your courage and abilities in carrying out a very dangerous mission for your country. I also admired you as the mistress of a large household. You cared for every single person working in it. Even yesterday, when you knew of your sister-in-law’s perfidy, you showed no signs of rancor toward her.
You are a jewel among women. Any man would be privileged to gain your heart. I know I am not worthy of your love. I would be satisfied with your mere affection and regard, if you would but give me the chance to care for you.
Please come to Vienna with me. You will be under the protection of the British government, as well as my own. I pledge you my life. I know that together the two of us can work to build a lasting peace in Europe. The time when we sat and read and discussed things together during my recuperation in your house showed me that we are not so very different in our outlooks and beliefs. We both want what is good for humanity as a whole. We believe in democracy and the rights of man.
If it is childlessness you fear, did it never occur to you that perhaps it was not you who was at fault, but your late husband?
And if it turns out that it is you who are barren, the Scriptures say that the Lord makes the barren woman to be a joyful mother of children.
In closing, the only words I can offer you are to trust in the Lord. You said that you had made your peace with God.
Well, perhaps now it is time to trust in His goodness toward you. Trust that He will bless our union whether we beget children or not.
I love you, Céline. Please marry me and come with me. I leave on Sunday morning.
Your servant, Rees

He had written the address of the British embassy at the bottom.

Céline was unable to sleep that night. She lay for hours, staring at the darkness. She had reread Rees’s letter more than a dozen times.

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