Simply Shameless (24 page)

Helene sighed gratefully as he finally left the room. Philip took off his hat, coat, and gloves and held his hands out to the fire. After a while, he came to kneel beside her chair.

"Are you all right?"

She forced a smile. "I'll be fine once I sit still for a while. I've never been a good traveler."

He patted her hand. "I'm sorry if we traveled too fast. I assumed you wanted to get here as quickly as possible."

"I did and I thank you for your efforts." She wrinkled her nose at him. "Although these days I'm not used to having a man direct my travel arrangements."

"Did you expect me to sit back and let you take charge?"

She studied his affronted expression. "I suppose not. You do not strike me as the kind of man who would ever be comfortable with a woman telling him what to do."

"Disappointed?"

"Not at all. You are far more of a challenge."

"I'm glad to hear it." He got to his feet as there was a knock on the door. He opened it to admit a buxom young maid.

"Good evening, sir, ma'am." She smiled at Helene. "I've got a hot brick for your feet and an herbal tisane from the missus, who says you should drink it while it is hot."

"Thank you. Do you know if there have been any messages forme?"

"I'll check, ma'am." She bobbed a curtsey. "If there is one, I'll bring it up with your dinner."

Helene grimaced at Philip as he shut the door behind the maid. "I should imagine that if George left me a message, it will be in my own name. Perhaps you shouldn't have told the landlord we were married."

Philip shrugged. "I'm sure we can think of a plausible explanation."

"I'm sure you can." She sipped at her tisane and inhaled the soothing scents of honey and chamomile. "I've heard many a married man make excuses for appearing to forget he had a wife. Some of them were even quite imaginative."

"You needn't worry, then. Just tell me the best one and leave it to me."

Helene briefly closed her eyes as her headache started to ease. "If George has left me a message, I might need to go out after dinner."

"Surely that can wait until morning? It is far too late to be wandering around the streets of a notorious seaport."

"I didn't ask you to accompany me."

He went still. "You don't think I would allow you to go out unescorted?"

"It's not a question about what you 'allow.' I'm not your wife, remember?"

"But you are a vulnerable female."

"I'm quite capable of taking care of myself."

A knock on the door interrupted them. Philip got up to open the door.

"We haven't finished this discussion, Helene."

She smiled sweetly. "Yes, we have."

The maid who had brought the tisane placed a large covered tray on the sideboard and turned to Helene. "There was a message came for a blond-haired lady. Would that be you?"

Helene nodded encouragingly as Philip pretended to inspect the steaming plates of food on the tray.

"Here you are, then."

"Thank you."

Helene took the sealed note and slipped it into her reticule. The maid bobbed another curtsey and took the covers off the food. The succulent smell of roast lamb and chicken filled the room. To her surprise, Helene realized she was hungry.

"I'll bring up some more plates and some nice cheese and port as well, sir." This time the maid addressed Philip.

"That would be excellent."

Helene allowed Philip to serve her a plate of food and took it to the chair closest to the fire. She balanced the plate precariously on her knees as Philip joined her. For a while, there was silence as they both ate. Helene didn't manage much, but her stomach was definitely steadier. Philip continued to eat, washing down his food with copious amounts of a fine red wine. Her fingers slid into her reticule and touched the note.

"Aren't you going to open it?"

She almost jumped as he fixed his gaze on her. "I suppose I should. If we are lucky, this might prove to be a wild goose chase."

He removed their plates and sat back in his chair, his hazel eyes considering. "You still haven't told me what or whom we are chasing."

"I might not have to." She opened the seal on the letter and quickly scanned the contents.

"Ah ..."

"Well?"

"She is here."

"Who is?"

"My daughter."

"I thought your daughter was safely ensconced in your house in London. What happened? Did she run off?"

"This is my oldest daughter."

Surprise flared in his eyes. "Exactly how many children do you have?"

"Three, my lord, that is all. My eldest daughter recently married, and I need to speak to her."

"How recently did she marry?"

"Why should that matter?"

"Because I've lived in your house for over a week, and not one female has mentioned a wedding. That must be unheard of."

Heat blossomed on Helene's cheeks. "She is of age. Her decision to marry was her own business."

"How old is she?"

"One and twenty." She watched the puzzlement on his face deepen and resigned herself to yet more explanations.

"You had a child when you were fifteen?"

"Oui."

"Before you even met me?"

Helene inclined her head. Philip sat forward in his seat and linked his hands between his knees.

"I have to assume she married without your consent." He frowned. "Did she marry unwisely?"

"It depends on your point of view. In most people's eyes, she has done remarkably well. I believe her husband is a peer of the realm."

His eyebrows rose. "Yet you are not happy."

"I... am her mother. I wish to speak to her to make sure everything is all right and that she was not coerced or forced in anyway."

"Why would you think that?"

Helene got to her feet and went to the window overlooking the street below. "Because I have a vague recollection of the man she married from the pleasure house."

"You assume that anyone who has been there is in some way suspicious?"

She rounded on him. "Of course I don't. I would just like to see my daughter and reassure myself that all is well."

He rose to his feet and looked down at her. "Then let us be off."

"You are not coming with me."

"Then you are not going."

"Philip Ross, you have no right to order me around."

He shrugged. "I have every right. No lady under my protection goes out alone at night. It is far too dangerous."

She stamped her foot. "I am not a lady!"

"You wish to be mistaken for a prostitute again? Because if you go out alone, I'm certain that will happen."

She glared at him as he moved to block her exit by leaning against the door. Her fingers itched to pick up the fire tongs and bash him hard on the head.

"If you come with me, you wait outside."

He bowed. "I'll wait outside the room you occupy. I refuse to compromise more than that."

"You refuse to compromise?" Helene grabbed her bonnet and placed it on her head. "You are the person behaving like a complete bully."

"Take it or leave it, Helene."

She stared at him for a long fierce moment, imagined his lifeless form stretched across the hearth.

"All right. Marguerite and her husband are staying at the Royal Dover Inn."

"The Royal Dover?" He paused as he shrugged into his coat. "That is the best accommodation in town. It hardly sounds as if she is anxious to avoid detection."

"As I said, she is of age. I can't simply steal her back."

Helene tied the ribbons of her bonnet and reached for her pelisse. Philip plucked it out of her hands and helped her into it. He kissed her throat, making her shiver.

"I'm sure everything will be fine."

"Easy for you to say," she muttered as she drew on her gloves.

He held the door open for her. "That is true, but I do understand, Helene. I have children of my own."

More than you know. Helene kept that sour thought to herself as she went down the stairs and out into the unwelcoming darkness of the night.

Chapter Nineteen

When they entered the Royal Dover Inn, Helene was almost grateful for Philip's commanding air and instant expectation of being attended to. Within no time at all, she found herself whisked away into a private parlor to await Marguerite while Philip stood discreetly on guard outside the door.

Helene spent the long minutes of waiting in a fruitless attempt to marshal her arguments for Marguerite. But nothing seemed to help. What on earth could she say? Their relationship was far too fragile to risk saying the wrong thing.

The door opened and Helene swung around to face Marguerite. She was dressed in a fashionably low-cut blue silk dress that matched her eyes. Her dark hair was drawn back from her face and piled high on her head. Two ringlets brushed her olive-tinted cheeks. In stature, Marguerite resembled Helene, but her coloring was all her own. She looked as apprehensive as Helene felt.

"Maman. Is something wrong?"

Helene tried a smile. "No, my dear. I just wanted to wish you happy and make sure that everything was well with you."

Marguerite paused by the door as if expecting an ambush. "How did you know I was in Dover?"

Helene shrugged. "A friend of mine told me you and your husband had booked passage for England."

Marguerite frowned. "Are you saying you had me followed?"

"How could I do that? I'm not working for the government, nor am I that wealthy."

"But you have many clients who could help you."

Helene sighed. "That is true and I confess, I did want to know when you returned to England."

"Why?" Marguerite gathered her black silk shawl closer to her breasts. "I told you I was safe, and I asked you to leave me alone."

"I know." Helene sat down and gestured to the seat opposite her. "Will you sit a moment so that we can talk?"

Marguerite glanced uncertainly at the door. "I have to get back soon. Justin is coming to eat dinner with me."

Helene took a deep breath. "Are you all right?"

"I am fine, Maman." She smiled radiantly. "I am in love. Isn't that the best feeling in the world?"

"It is, my dear." Helene couldn't help but smile back. "I'm just glad to see you are happy."

"How could I not be? Justin makes me feel like the most precious woman in the world.

He says he worships me."

"Then you are indeed a lucky woman."

Marguerite sighed, her expression blissful. "I know. And what is even better is that I've told him all about my life, and he doesn't care that I'm illegitimate."

"Did you tell him about me?"

"He knows who you are. In truth, he thinks it is highly amusing that you are my mother.

He also seems to think that is why we rub along together so well."

Helene wasn't sure she liked the sound of that. Did Justin Lockwood believe Marguerite had the same wide sexual tolerances as her mother? "Was that why he had married her?

Marguerite sank down onto the seat beside Helene. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was going to get married. It all happened rather quickly. I met Justin in the village while I was running some errands for the nuns. His horse had thrown a shoe, and he was having some trouble getting anyone to understand I his terrible French."

Helene managed to smile. "I don't intend to intrude on your marriage, my dear. You need have no fear of that."

Marguerite looked at her, her expression relieved. "I'm so glad to hear that. This is a wonderful opportunity for me to share my life with a man I respect and love."

There was no sign of strain in Marguerite's words. No hint of coercion. It was obvious that she didn't need to be rescued after all. Despite her misgivings, Helene had to believe everything would work out for the best.

She clasped Marguerite's hand. "You will write to me?"

"Of course, Maman. And when we're settled, we can meet more regularly."

"I would like that."

Marguerite hesitated. "You must not think me ungrateful for everything you have done for me. I know how hard it was for you after I was born."

"I wish I'd done more. I wish I'd kept you with me through it all."

Marguerite looked earnest. "You did your best, didn't you? You kept me alive, gave me an education and opportunities you were denied. What more could any child want?"

"You might want to ask Christian and Lisette that question." Helene sighed. "They still hate me. Did you know they have turned up in England?"

"The twins have? How did they know where you live?"

Helene watched Marguerite intently. "You didn't tell them?"

"Of course I didn't. I promised not to." Marguerite smiled. "That is so typical of them.

When I was younger, I hated you for a while too. Then you had the courage to come to me and tell me the truth. Now I am proud to be your daughter."

A tear slid down Helene's cheek. Just as she resolved to let her daughter make her own choices and be happy for her, Marguerite had given her the greatest gift of all—forgiveness. Was there anything sweeter than that for a mother?

"Thank you, Marguerite." Helene hugged Marguerite hard. "I truly wish you happy."

For a moment, neither of them spoke, just held each other in an all-encompassing, crushing embrace.

"Je t'aime, Maman," Marguerite whispered.

"Je t'aime, aussi."

"I'll write to you. I promise."

"I'll write too."

Marguerite disengaged herself, wiped at her cheeks, and jumped up. "I have to go now.

Justin and Harry will be waiting forme."

Helene stood up, too, her smile dying. "Sir Harry Jones is traveling with you?"

Marguerite nodded, setting her ringlets bobbing as she opened the door. "Yes, isn't that wonderful? He has certainly enlivened both our spirits and our journey through Europe.

I'm not sure what we'll do with ourselves when he has to go home."

With a last kiss, Marguerite skipped lightly up the stairs, her dark satin gown quickly blending with the gloom. Helene repressed an urge to call her back, to warn her—but of what? Married couples often took other people along on their honeymoons. If Justin Lockwood had truly meant his marriage vows,