Miss Lavigne's Little White Lie (32 page)

“Serafine,
please
.” His accent identified him as a bloody American.

Lisette reached Daniel’s side. “Monsieur Tucker, what are you doing in London?”

“He’s harassing a
lady
.” Westin’s emphasis on the word lady left Daniel wondering what part of the conversation they had missed.

Lisette hurried to Serafine’s side and wrapped her arm around her shoulders. “Monsieur Tucker is a fellow resident of New Orleans. We are well acquainted with his family. I’m certain he didn’t intend to harass my cousin.”

Daniel’s fist tightened. “Acquaintance or no, no one gave you leave to touch Mademoiselle Vistoire.”

“I didn’t mean—” Mr. Tucker’s wild gaze flew to Serafine. “Tell him I didn’t hurt you.”

Her steely eyes grew moist. “But you did, Isaac. And it cannot be undone.”

Daniel nodded to Westin, communicating silently with his Oxford alumni.

The marquess offered his handkerchief to Serafine. “Please allow me to escort you inside, ladies.”

Once Westin had the women out of sight, Daniel advanced, snatching Tucker by the waistcoat. “What is it that cannot be undone?”

Tucker yanked free of his grip and squared his shoulders. “If you wish to deliver a sound beating, I’ll accept it as a man. I deserve any ill treatment I receive.” His valor caught Daniel by surprise. “If only I could win her heart again, I would subject myself to worse than a thrashing.”

Daniel lowered his fists. The gent’s expression would rival a wounded hound. He had never seen such pitiful eyes on a man. “Whatever you did to her, I expect you to make amends. Call on her tomorrow at 17 Curzon Street. Do not disappoint me.”

A glut of fresh heat swept over Daniel, and his muscles tensed. In Port Albis, Serafine had made claim to being no innocent. And he’d bet his fortune this scoundrel was responsible.

“Come prepared to make things right, or else.” Daniel spun on his heel and stalked back inside Hillary House.

Westin loitered at the entrance. His eyes lit with enthusiasm. “Do you require a second?”

Daniel came up short. The marquess courted death at every opportunity. It was a damned shame too, because Westin would make a fine duke one day, if he lived long enough.

“The matter is settled,” Daniel said. “Tucker will call on the lady tomorrow.”

“I see.” Westin rubbed his chin, a wicked smile on his face. “Splendid.”

Daniel didn’t ask what scheme the marquess was hatching. He had enough worries without adding the adventure-seeking nobleman to his list.

***

Another massive bouquet of flowers obscured Lisette’s view of the servant carrying them into the drawing room. Gardenias this time. “From Lord Westin again?”

“Aye, mistress. ’Tis the sixth to arrive for Miss Vistoire. Where shall I place ’em?”

Lisette bit her lip as she contemplated the area. They were running out of surfaces to hold the lovely arrangements. She hurried to the sideboard and scooped up a figurine. “Here will be fine.”

The maid lifted the bouquet with a small groan and settled it on top. She took the figurine from Lisette’s hands. “’Pears Laird Westin is smitten with the lass.”

Lisette smiled, bemused by the woman’s bizarre accent, which was unlike any other in the household. “An interesting development to be certain. My cousin is expecting another gentleman caller today.”

The maid’s eyebrows shot up, but she made no comment.

Daniel passed the maid on her way out. “What the devil is going on here? The drawing room resembles the garden.”

“I’m uncertain. Arrangements have been arriving for Serafine every half hour. Six in total so far. And all from Lord Westin.”

Her husband chuckled. “I believe the marquess is sending a message to Mr. Tucker.”

“Oh, dear. You don’t think Lord Westin intends to court Serafine? My dear cousin is angry with Monsieur Tucker, but I believe her heart already belongs to him.”

“Among other things,” he grumbled then snatched a gardenia from the vase and tucked it behind Lisette’s ear. A tender smile softened his furrowed brow. “Perfect. Just what the bloom needed.”

Lisette stepped into his embrace, but a gentleman clearing his throat at the drawing room threshold halted their kiss.

Daniel’s grumpy demeanor reappeared, and he didn’t look behind him. “What do you want, Baptiste?”

“We had an appointment ten minutes prior, Captain. I’ve been waiting in your study.”

Daniel looked up at the ceiling and issued a heavy sigh.

“We could reschedule if you prefer,” Monsieur Baptiste offered.

“Oh, no. This interruption serves as the perfect illustration as to the necessity of our meeting.” Daniel leaned down to whisper in her ear, “Later, my dear,” then he placed a chaste kiss on her cheek.

Lisette’s face flushed. Husbands might be entitled to kiss their wives at will, but they didn’t do so in the presence of others. Monsieur Baptiste was like a father to her. Even a kiss on her cheek felt scandalous.

She hurried to the nearest flower arrangement and fussed with it. “Please, conduct your business with Monsieur Baptiste. I expect Serafine’s gentleman caller will arrive soon, and I have my chaperone duties to fulfill.”

The men excused themselves, leaving her to await Monsieur Tucker’s arrival. She hoped Monsieur Baptiste appreciated Daniel’s offer to stay in the rented rooms her husband kept. She too had grown a bit tired of the gentleman’s company after two weeks, but she still wouldn’t ask him to return to New Orleans as Daniel had suggested. If not for Monsieur Baptiste, she never would have met her husband, and her life wouldn’t be as perfect as it was now.

A light knock sounded at the door. “Enter.”

Daniel’s butler carried in a small dish holding Monsieur Tucker’s calling card. “Please inform Mademoiselle Vistoire she has a visitor,” she said.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Lisette smoothed her skirts and wiped the moisture from her palms. She hoped today’s meeting went well, because in reality one thing kept life from being as good as it could be: Serafine’s happiness. If Daniel’s conclusion was correct and Monsieur Tucker had compromised her dear cousin, he best be prepared to make things right. Otherwise, her husband would have to race her to the dueling pistols.

Twenty-eight

Daniel sauntered into his study with Baptiste trailing behind. He nodded toward the empty chair across from his desk. “Have a seat.”

Rounding the mahogany piece, he sank into the leather seat and propped his elbows on the padded armrests.

Baptiste offered a terse grin, as if the action caused him discomfort, and then sat. “Before we begin, I have a matter of import to discuss.” He reached into his jacket and extracted an envelope. “This arrived in the morning post.”

He nudged the letter across Daniel’s desk. Paulina’s rudimentary script stood out against the starkness of the folded foolscap. Even travel across the ocean hadn’t eliminated the scent of rose attar. His former mistress had drenched the letter. It was a wonder the ink hadn’t streaked and become illegible.

“The missive was inadvertently mixed in with your wife’s correspondence. I noticed the New Orleans address when I offered to carry the mail to Mrs. Hillary. Naturally, a letter from home captured my interest.” Baptiste shifted on the chair. “I didn’t wish Madame to receive a shock.”

Daniel snatched up the letter. “I no longer have an association with this woman. I don’t know why she would write.”

“It’s not my place to judge your actions, sir. You have generously provided safe haven for me. I simply wish to protect the girl from further heartache. I hope you understand.”

Bloody
hell.
He never would have considered he and his burdensome guest might have something in common. “Lisette is to know nothing of this letter.”

“Indeed, which is the reason I brought this matter to your attention. Will you respond and insist Miss Fanchon cease correspondence?”

That was one option, or Daniel could ignore Paulina’s letter. She would come to understand his decision to end their association remained firm.

“I will handle the situation.” Daniel’s brusque tone resulted in a sliver of remorse. Mr. Baptiste was trying to be of assistance. The man cared for Lisette, or he wouldn’t have saved her the embarrassment of discovering Paulina’s letter. “I appreciate your discretion.”

“I realize you wished to speak with me, but there is another matter I would like to discuss first, if it pleases you.”

Daniel’s shoulders stiffened. The man’s demeanor hinted that he wished to request a favor, and Daniel had extended all the courtesy he could offer. When he had married Lisette, he hadn’t consented to accepting responsibility for the welfare of a grown man.

“Say your piece, Baptiste.”

“I have become a burden to you and Mrs. Hillary. It doesn’t sit right with me.” He cleared his throat and adjusted his waistcoat. “Mrs. Hillary has made her wishes for me to remain in London known, and I do not wish to plague her with fears for my safety. I’m certain she is correct to assume Reynaud would bring harm to me if I was ever unfortunate enough to cross paths with him. Nevertheless, I cannot remain in this household or continue as a recipient of your charity.”

Daniel leaned back in his chair. “What solution do you suggest?”

“I’ve a good head for business, having worked alongside Monsieur Lavigne the last seventeen years. And I’ve been responsible for the plantation’s continued success since his death. Neither your wife nor Master Rafe were suited to manage the mill.” Mr. Baptiste leaned forward, a gleam of excitement in his eyes. “I know I could use my talents to earn my keep. I would make an excellent man of business.”

“I have a man of business already.”

“I’m aware, sir. But perhaps you have connections that might help me secure a position. A letter of reference would open doors for me. And once I’ve secured employment, I could rent a room and provide for myself.”

The idea had merit. In fact, it was bloody brilliant and eliminated the need for Daniel’s speech tossing Baptiste out on his arse.

Daniel yanked open a drawer, dropped Paulina’s letter inside to deal with later, and extracted a sheet of foolscap along with a key. “I keep rented rooms in Piccadilly. Since I no longer have use for them, you are free to reside in the space until you are able to find employment and your own lodgings. I’ll arrange for your move today.”

Dipping his quill in ink, Daniel scrawled the address on the sheet. “As for your letter of recommendation, I will have it completed in a couple of days. I have more pressing matters requiring my attention at the moment.”

Such as issuing a challenge to Mr. Tucker if he didn’t make amends to Lisette’s cousin.

***

Serafine maintained her rigid posture as Isaac was ushered into the drawing room. A small bouquet of white daisies was cradled in the crook of his arm. His gaze darted around the room at the mammoth arrangements perched on the sideboard and tables before lowering to his own offering. A ruddy flush colored his cheeks, giving him the freshly scrubbed appearance of a boy after his bath she used to find dear.

Lisette rose with a smile. “Monsieur Tucker, how nice of you to call.”

Isaac was here for one reason only. Captain Hillary had threatened him.

He bowed first to Lisette and then to her. “Good day, Madame Hillary. Mademoiselle Vistoire, it’s lovely to see you again.”

“I see you’ve brought flowers for Serafine.”

His cheeks darkened considerably, and he hugged the bouquet to his chest, crinkling the black and white paper wrapped around the stems.

Lisette wrinkled her brow. “Is that
The
Morning
Herald
, monsieur?”

“Oh, well, yes. I had thought to read it later, but then the stems were wet and dripping on my jacket. I didn’t want to soil my…” He glanced down at his smudged glove then shoved his fist behind his back. How like Isaac to act first without thinking.

Lisette swept forward and relieved him of the daisies. “Indeed. I will take these to the housekeeper to place in a vase.” She worried her bottom lip as she looked around the room. “Heavens, where shall we place them? Lord Westin’s arrangements do take up a lot of space. It seems Serafine made quite an impression on the marquess last night.”

Serafine’s face heated and she shifted on the settee. Lisette’s attempts to needle Isaac were too transparent. He would likely consider himself fortunate to push Serafine onto another gentleman and flee.

Isaac’s pallor took on a greenish hue in the drawing room light. “Mademoiselle Vistoire is indeed impressive.”

“
Oui.
I know no one more remarkable. Any gentleman would be lucky to have her for his wife. Please, have a seat, monsieur. I shall return in a moment with the flowers and refreshments.”

Lisette swept from the room. When her lively energy no longer charged the air, Serafine and Isaac stared at one another. She held her breath, frozen, unsure, and irate. Serafine had been proud and strong when she had met Isaac in New Orleans. His rejection wouldn’t reduce her to a mousey shadow of herself.