The Duke's Daughter (24 page)

His mind began to race.

Perhaps if he threw himself into the business of learning to run his future estate, he could forever escape having to face the consequences of what he had done. A lifetime of thinking himself a coward was no more than he deserved. So long as no one else knew.

He had convinced himself of this course of action when Lucy finally spoke.

‘Have you thought what you might say to Pascal’s family if we manage to arrange an audience with them?’ she asked.

He shrugged his shoulders. What do you say to someone whose son or brother died at your hand?

Time and time again he had replayed those few frantic minutes in his mind. It had been so very brief, so horrifyingly real.

Fifteen years of hard soldiering had culminated in a bloody fight to the death. If he had not been able to overcome the Frenchman’s desperate attempts, Avery knew he would have been the one lying dead on the battlefield in Belgium that fateful June day.

‘Considering how little French I speak, whatever I say, it will be brief,’ he replied.

Lucy frowned, disapproval evident on her face.

Avery sighed.

‘Truth be told, I’ve been having second thoughts about the whole thing since the moment we arrived. Apart from offering them my deepest regrets, I don’t have the foggiest idea what I could say.’

Lucy nodded.

‘If we do manage to locate the Rochet family, perhaps I can help. As you can see, I speak fluent French. You just have to decide what you want to say, and I can translate it for you.’

I really don’t deserve you. Lord knows you don’t deserve to be saddled with me for the rest of your days.

Not for the first time did Avery chastise himself for taking Lucy to his bed. He had been selfish in allowing his uncontrollable lust for her to dictate the situation at the Key.

He offered her an apologetic smile. Having shared a bed and the pleasure of her body for several weeks now, there was no going back. His babe might already be growing within her body.

She leaned over and placed a comforting hand on his knee.

‘I know this is difficult, but remember I am here with you. You won’t be going through this alone,’ she offered.

He bit his tongue, holding back the terse response that threatened. What the devil did Lucy know of such things? She had never stared a dead man in the face.

He pushed her hand away. Words of comfort and support were still so very alien to him, he honestly didn’t know how to deal with them.

‘Shall we ask the driver to take us to your cousin’s house rather than back to the hotel?’ he asked.

With any luck William Saunders would have a decent bottle or two of whisky at his disposal. For a man who prided himself on his restraint with alcohol, Avery desperately needed to take the edge off his mood.

Lucy reached inside her leather satchel and pulled out a slightly crumpled letter.

‘Will is going to call on us at the hotel just before supper. I received this note while you were in the barbershop having a shave this morning.’

She handed him the note.

It did little to lighten Avery’s dark humour. The first thing which struck him as being odd was the fact the letter was addressed only to Lucy. Not to the both of them and especially not him. He felt the sting of being reminded of his humble origins.

The perfunctory note stated that William Saunders would be in attendance at Le Meurice at six o’clock to discuss matters with Lady Lucy Radley and her husband. He folded the paper in half once more and stiffly shoved it back at Lucy.

‘Now what have I done wrong?’ she asked.

‘Nothing, you haven’t done anything wrong. It’s just sometimes I forget that I am not of your class. That to some of your acquaintances I do not warrant even the mere mention of my name. Forgive me if I am being overly sensitive about such matters. I should learn not to take personal slights to heart.’

Lucy growled. Avery could understand her frustration with him. He was finding it difficult to bear his own company.

‘No.’

‘No what?’

‘No, I won’t forgive you. Don’t you dare ever take a step backwards if you think someone is being rude just because of your family background. You have served your country well and are now the future Earl Langham. No one has the right to treat you poorly. Though in this case, I doubt Will intended to cause you offence. He more than likely just forgot your name,’ Lucy replied.

‘Will, is it? I take it you and he are close?’ Avery snapped.

Lucy shot him a second disapproving look.

‘For pity’s sake, Avery, Will is family! You have nothing to get all riled up over. He is going out of his way to help you. A little gratitude might be in order when you meet him.’

Avery stared once more out of the window. He and Lucy sat in angry silence as the carriage continued on its way back to their hotel.

A tight constriction pinched his chest. He struggled to breathe.

‘Stop the carriage,’ he said and banged on the roof.

The carriage continued on. Avery rose up from his seat and began frantically banging on the carriage roof.

‘Stop this bloody thing!’ he bellowed.

Lucy reached up and flipped open the roof hatch. ‘
Arrêtez s’il vous plaît
,’ she called out to the driver. The horses immediately began to slow their pace. The carriage pulled over to one side of the street. Lucy and the driver exchanged a few more words, none of which Avery understood.

‘He says we are only a few hundred yards from the hotel. If we want to walk the rest of the way we only have to turn right at the next corner and we will be in rue Saint Honoré.’

‘Good,’ Avery replied.

He reached over and pushed the carriage door open. He stepped out onto the pavement, grateful as the fresh air filled his lungs. Lucy followed him to the door and offered Avery her hand.

For an instant he toyed with the notion of waving her away and sending her back to the hotel. He wanted to be alone. But when he saw the hurt etched on her face, he knew he had no choice. Only a selfish heel would refuse her.

‘Come on then,’ he said, helping her down.

They stood and watched as the carriage pulled back into the street. Avery sucked in another deep breath and puffed out his cheeks. Fearing a repeat of the panic attack he had suffered on Strathmore Mountain, he prayed his stomach would remain calm.

Lucy silently took his arm and they began the short walk back to the hotel.

Lucy avoided all but the barest of conversations with him for the rest of the morning. Avery continued to wrestle with his inner turmoil. Rather than try to explain the overwhelming sense of panic which had gripped him during the ride back to the hotel, he let Lucy continue to believe he was in a stinking foul mood.

At luncheon Lucy took a small platter filled with fresh fruit and cheese outside and ate alone on the balcony. As she left the room she closed the door behind her. The message was clear. Until Avery pulled himself from his dark mood, she was not interested in sharing his company. Another skill she had at her disposal, having grown up in a large family.

He partook of his meal at the small writing desk in their suite. It was only after he had pushed the piece of fish on his plate to the very edge that Avery realised he had been so preoccupied with his racing heart that he had not removed his gloves.

‘Yet another failure,’ he muttered.

He pulled his right hand from the fine leather glove, before gently releasing his wounded hand from the other. Looking down at the angry lines slashed across his skin, a rush of shame welled up inside of him.

‘Bloody hell,’ he cursed.

He had allowed the voice of self-doubt to speak loudly in his mind. To once more chip away at his self-belief and confidence in his endeavours. Poor Lucy, ever supportive of him, had borne the brunt.

She was sitting alone on the balcony of their suite, believing that he didn’t want her help. That he didn’t need her. Only he knew how far from the truth that was. There were times when he looked into her eyes and she made him feel he could conquer the world. But right now he had allowed himself to be brought low, to once more feel the bitter sting of humiliation.

‘Avery?’ Lucy said.

He looked up. She was standing in the doorway, with a book tucked under her arm. In either hand she held a glass of wine.

‘It’s warm outside, would you like to join me?’

It was so typical of Lucy. She wasn’t demanding a grand statement of apology for his earlier behaviour. She accepted him for his many shortcomings, and now she just wanted her husband to come and sit with her. To enjoy the Parisian sunshine.

‘Yes, of course,’ he said, abandoning his meal.

Outside, he took a seat beside her, and they spent the next hour drinking wine and reading.

‘Tell me about William Saunders,’ Avery said.

The warm September afternoon had slipped away and their visitor was soon expected to arrive.

Lucy pursed her lips. She had seen Will for the first time in many years during his recent trip home to London.

‘His mother is my aunt Adelaide on my father’s side. Will has lived in France for many years. This year was the first time he has made the trip back to England since the end of the war. We are hoping that he might eventually move back to London. I know my aunt and uncle were disappointed when he didn’t remain in London at the end of the season,’ she replied.

She had known nothing of Will’s role during the hostilities with France, but the night before she and Avery left Strathmore Castle her father had pulled her aside for a private conversation.

‘I don’t want Avery asking too many questions of William. While I cannot tell you too much of what he did for England’s war effort, trust that there are still those in France who would seek to hurt him if they knew what he had done. And while I think Avery is a good man, we still don’t know enough about him. His brother Thaxter was a rogue, so you have to understand why I must be cautious in this matter.’

To hear her father speak of her husband in such a way hurt, but she did as he instructed. Even she had to admit that while matters had progressed significantly between them, Avery still kept much of himself hidden from her.

‘It just seems odd to me that an Englishman could live in Paris during the war and not be arrested,’ Avery said.

Lucy looked into his eyes.

‘Do you trust me?’

‘Yes,’ he said with a sigh.

She relished the small victory.

‘Will served England in its darkest hour and that is all I can tell you. A lot of what he did was necessarily covert, and real dangers still exist for him even now. If you are not prepared to trust him, then say so. I shall tell Will not to bother offering his assistance and we will have to make do on our own.’

A knock at the door ended the discussion.

‘Just remember what I said,’ Lucy added as Avery opened the door.

‘Mr Saunders?’ he said.

William Saunders stepped inside the suite and immediately came to Lucy.

‘Lucy, my love!’ he cried.

She laughed, squealing with delight as William wrapped his arms around her and kissed her on the cheek.

‘Cousin! So good to see you. I can’t believe you are the first of the family to make the trip across the Channel to see me. Eve threatened to come when I saw her in London, but Father obviously wouldn’t hear a word of it. He said she can come once she has found herself a husband.’

Will stepped back and offered his hand to Avery. An odd look crossed Will’s face, but no sooner had it appeared than it was gone. Lucy blinked. If she had been asked to describe the look, she would have said it was one of recognition. But how?

‘Welcome to the family, dear boy, you have certainly landed yourself the very best girl in London society. Have no doubt about that. Lucy truly is a treasure. Glad to see the two of you made it to Paris.’

A flood of relief washed over Lucy as Avery took hold of Will’s hand and gave it a generous shake.

‘I’m finding out every day that she has hidden talents,’ he replied.

A second knock on the door heralded the arrival of a waiter with champagne and glasses on a tray. William directed the man to place the tray on a nearby table.

‘Well, I did miss the wedding, so you’ll have to indulge me in celebrating your recent nuptials,’ he laughed.

Glasses were quickly handed around.

‘A toast to you both. May you have a long and happy marriage and be blessed with many children,’ William said, raising his glass.

Lucy shook her head. ‘You may wish us a few children, but if we have as many as the King and Queen, I shall personally hunt you down with a large stick.’

‘Any children we have will be a blessing, Mr Saunders; thank you,’ Avery added.

‘Will. Please call me Will, all my friends do. And any man clever enough to secure Lucy’s heart is my friend.’

Lucy turned her head away and forced a tight smile to her lips. When she looked back at Avery he was still calm.

Thank God.

Avery had at least determined to frame his mood better for William’s visit. Tolerating his temper was a constant struggle. There were times she was sorely tempted to give him a clip over the ear and tell him to stop behaving like a child. And yet, the turmoil she often saw written on his face told her that his demeanour was not simply the result of being in a bad mood.

‘So how are you finding Paris? Have you had a chance to see any of the city?’ Will asked.

A thin line of worry creased Avery’s brow.

‘We only arrived a day or two ago, and I think we lost the better part of several days recovering from the journey. This morning we ventured to the bank and Vacheron’s Paris representative,’ Avery replied.

His voice was flat, all its strength gone.

‘Did you have any success with the watchmaker? Lucy mentioned in her letter that you were seeking the owner of a pocket watch.’

‘Yes,’ Avery replied.

He reached into his pocket and took out the watch. Handing it to Will, he said, ‘I took this from a dead man on the battlefield at Waterloo. My purpose in visiting Paris is to return it to his family.’

Will turned the watch over in his hand.

‘It’s a beautiful piece. Did you know Napoleon had one?’ Will replied.

‘Really?’ Lucy exclaimed, finding her voice. It hurt that Avery had not mentioned the part she’d played in his mission.

‘Yes. I also had one. I gave it to my father before I returned to Paris. He was not at all happy with my leaving England again and I needed to give him something to placate his disappointment. This is a very expensive watch, Avery. Your dead Frenchman was a man of means.’

Avery shrugged his shoulders.

‘Yes, well, all the wealth in the world won’t do you any good if you are dead. I’m certain Pascal Rochet would swap it and all that he owned to have seen another dawn.’

He took the watch back and put it in his pocket.

‘I’m sorry for my poor humour. This day has been more difficult for me than I had expected it to be. There are times when I truly think I have lost my skills as a hardened soldier.’

Will put a friendly hand on Avery’s shoulder.

‘No need to apologise. The war took everything from many good men and gave nothing back. You served your country and now you seek to do a good deed.’

‘I wish it was through philanthropic desire, but I’m ashamed to say much of this is from purely selfish need. I have come to France to try and regain my honour. Well, that was my hope until we got here; now I am not so certain that is possible,’ Avery replied.

Will frowned at him. ‘Why do you think you have no honour? From what I understand, you are a man who knows right from wrong and have acted accordingly. What better definition of honour can there be?’

‘Are we going to dinner?’ Lucy said, changing the subject. The tension in the room was palpable. She could almost hear the sound of Avery grinding his teeth.

Avery nodded. ‘Yes, that would be good. Can you recommend somewhere close by for us to eat? A spot of Parisian night air would be most welcome.’

‘Yes, yes, of course. I have dinner reservations at Café de Foy, which is one of the oldest restaurants in Paris. An absolute must on your list of things to do while here.’

When William gave Lucy a tender hug, Avery said nothing. His cold hard stare, however, spoke volumes.

‘Good. Then if you gentlemen don’t mind, I would like to prepare for dinner. Perhaps you could go and have a drink downstairs. I shall call for my maid and be with you shortly,’ Lucy said.

As soon as William and Avery had left the suite, she threw herself onto the bed.

‘Men! If it’s not their temper, it’s their need to save face,’ she addressed the ceiling.

All day she had tried to be calm and understanding of Avery and his moods, but her patience was beginning to wear thin. Lack of sleep contributed to her frayed nerves.

In the nights since they had arrived in Paris, she had been kept awake by Avery’s violent tossing and turning in bed. Broken words were torn from his lips as he wrestled some unknown devil in his dreams.

She had thought to ask him about his nightmares, but his increasingly foul moods had dissuaded her. She feared that the longer they stayed in Paris, the more withdrawn Avery would become. The sooner they were rid of the pocket watch the better. Only then could they return home to England and try to build a life together.

She looked at the gold wedding ring on her finger. Other recently married women within her social circle had large, ornate engagement rings which glistened on their fingers. At the moment all Lucy had was a thin gold band of hope.