THE DUKE’S MATCH GIRL: A Christmas Fiery Tale Novella (Fiery Tales Series) (3 page)

Apparently, the mighty Leo d’Ermart simply woke up one morning and decided to reappear in her life, bold as could be—and sent his personal secretary to deliver his offer, no less.

How very thoughtful.

The man’s gall was outrageous.

Tamping down her ire, she gave Gaspard another pat. He purred contently. “I’m not worried about coin. There’s no need to be.” Suzanne cast Lucille a reassuring smile over her shoulder. Since her father’s death, she’d managed just fine.

“But… But…I just don’t understand it,” Lucille continued, unrelenting. “He has plenty of wealth. You make concoctions for so many others. Why not make the perfumes he’s requesting? He is willing to pay a vast sum. An offer from a duc does not come around every day!”

Because his offer is nothing but a ruse.

She was no fool. The generous funds Leo was offering her to create perfumes for his two sisters—meant to be gifts—had a condition: she was to come to Montbrison to create them.

The offer was bogus. A mere pretense to get her to his château.

She wanted nothing more to do with him.

Knowing the unscrupulous rake as well as she did, his true motives were without a doubt of a disreputable nature. She refused to be duped by his little ploy. She’d experienced his stinging trickery before.

It had taken a long time for her heart to mend and harden against Leo d’Ermart. It had been years before she’d finally managed to wrestle him out of her daily thoughts. And heart. She resented it that yesterday he’d intruded into her mental peace once more—thanks to Gilles’s visit.

The best thing a woman could do was to stay far away from the notorious roué.

And that was exactly what she intended to do.

She rose, firmly shoving all thoughts of Leo from her mind.

Over the fire simmered a concoction of juice from unripe poppies and herbs. She gave it a gentle stir. It was a remedy for nervousness and insomnia she was preparing for the blacksmith’s wife, Madame Clavel, who swore by Suzanne’s elixir. Science had always fascinated her. It was one of her greatest passions. Though, as a woman, Suzanne knew she could never be a member of the Royal Academy of Sciences.

But that didn’t stop her from striving to know more than the men who were—thanks to her father who’d encouraged rather than discouraged her thirst for knowledge. He was simply a brilliant physician who’d understood her need to feed her mind.

He wasn’t like the other private physicians who tended to the aristocracy.

Her father disliked their conventional treatments. Especially bloodlettings and purgatives. He’d noted long ago that the lower classes’ more natural, less invasive remedies had a far better success rate.

And he’d adopted those treatments in his practice early on.

She had him to thank for her interest in scientific experiments and her knowledge of the healing properties of plants. Knowledge she’d expanded on, improving many of his treatments.

Much to his pride and delight.

“But he’s a
duc
…” Lucille was still lamenting. “I’ve never seen you turn away anyone who requested your services. Why turn him away?”

The subject of Leo d’Ermart was far too emotional and not one she was going to discuss with Lucille. Or anyone. Nor was she going to admit to just how much satisfaction she’d derived from writing Leo that note. The man deserved to be knocked off his perch. It felt good to be the woman to do so.

His comeuppance was long overdue.

She’d dealt with the matter. And she was glad to be rid of him.

For good.

“Lucille, I’ve made my decision. Do leave the matter be.” She felt confident that the sale of her medicines and perfumes would be more than adequate to see her through the winter. Moreover, her newest scientific advancement had worked wonders. A stick dipped in sulfur and one dipped in phosphorous, when struck against one another, created a flame. She’d begun selling her matchsticks four days ago with some success already.

A further boost to her funds.

If only her father had been around to see this latest scientific achievement. What she wouldn’t give to have him there for just one more Christmas. As it was, she dreaded the upcoming fête. It would be hollow and empty, her first without him.

His death had left a profound ache in her heart, as intense as the pain she’d felt over Leo years ago.

She didn’t need to add to her grief by reopening old wounds.

Discouraging Leo had been the right thing to do. The highhanded aristo had no place in her life anymore.

Lucille threw up her hands and finally began crumbling the dried mint in the bowl. “Who refuses a
duc
?” she muttered.

Therein was the core of the problem. Seven years ago, Suzanne hadn’t refused him, fool that she was.

And look how badly that turned out for you.

“Now, sister.” Rosalie swiped a strand of salt-and-pepper hair off her forehead. “If Suzanne doesn’t wish to take coin from some old potbellied duc, then that is her choice to make.”

Suzanne gave the concoction another stir as the image of a paunchy Leo d’Ermart formed in her mind’s eye.

Wouldn’t that be poetic justice?

Unfortunately, the mere presence of a potbelly would be no deterrent to the females who flocked to him. His extraordinary wealth and power was like an aphrodisiac. He’d still draw female attention everywhere he went. And he had been busy. Last year, one of her father’s patients had brought her a number of copies of the various Paris papers to enjoy. Leo’s conquests had made plenty of fodder for the gossip sheets.

A sudden clattering of horses’ hooves against cobblestones grabbed her attention. The sound rose quickly, getting louder with its rapid approach, obliterating the din of the townspeople moving about on foot and in carts outside.

This was a team of horses.

A large one.

A team of horses that had just come to an abrupt stop directly on the other side of her shop’s door.

Suzanne tensed, unable to shake the sudden dread that crested over her. Deep in the pit of her belly, she was gripped by a strong, unshakeable feeling that she knew exactly who had just arrived. Large teams of horses were not an everyday occurrence in Maillard.

No. Impossible…
She’d unequivocally rebuffed Leo.

It couldn’t be him. Could it?

Lucille bolted for the window before Suzanne could stop her. “There’s a carriage with six horses here!” she all but squealed. “That’s a
DUC
!”

Rosalie wasted no time darting to her sibling’s side. She let out her own shriek of excitement. “There are definitely six horses. It
is
a duc!
Oh, my
… I believe he’s coming this way!”

The door suddenly opened.

Suzanne’s stomach dropped.

Three large men—including Gilles—entered her shop, one by one bowing to her briefly. Just as the third stepped to one side, a gust of winter wind stole into the room.

Suzanne barely felt the chill. She was far too stunned by the presence of the tall, familiar form now filling her doorway. And the breathtaking changes in him that had taken place these last seven years.
Gracious God…

A second breeze wafted in, ruffling the hem of Leo’s long black cloak. Caressing his dark hair.

Against her will, she took in the breadth of his shoulders, which were wider, even more powerful, his handsome face that was more mature.

And more devastating.

Everything about him had seemingly intensified, from the hardness of his chiseled body to the hue of those spellbinding light green eyes. He had a presence and air of authority like never before.

Before her stood an incredibly gorgeous male who completely dominated the room.
One who’s caused you more pain than anyone else ever has in your life.

And he was more attractive than ever.

Good Lord. There
was
no justice. There wasn’t the slightest hint of a potbelly on that flat, firm abdomen.

Realizing she was gawking at him, she quickly yanked her gaze back up. The moment she met his seductive eyes, a slow smile formed on his lips. He’d caught her ogling him. Suzanne blushed, unladylike expletives blaring in her head. The very ones she’d learned in childhood following the d’Ermart brothers around their vast estate.

That’s just perfect. He is arrogant enough, and you’ve just fed his conceit further by openly gaping at him.

He approached, a casual, all-too-confident advance, then stopped directly in front of her, still sporting his beautiful half smile.

He was even more glorious up close.

“Hello, Suzanne.” His voice had the same deep, rich sound. Its effect was like warm nectar poured over chilled skin. She quashed the shiver that quivered down her spine—immediately irked at herself for allowing even the slightest reaction to his male beauty.

It’s that very same masculine beauty and charm that was your downfall.

She’d learned not to trust that handsome face. Or any man whose eyes always shone with wicked promise.

“It is wonderful to see you again,” he said.

A slight gasp caught her attention. It came from Rosalie. Or perhaps it was Lucille. The two sisters stood side by side, mouths fully agape, their gazes darting from Leo, to her, and back to Leo once more.

Rosalie was the first to clamp her mouth shut. She poked her sister in the ribs. “
He knows our Suzanne
,” she said in a loud whisper. A big, beaming smile formed on her face. “
And he’s happy to see her again
.
Isn’t that delightful, sister?
”

Lucille frowned. “
I’m not deaf, Rosalie. I heard him perfectly well.
” Lucille’s whisper was just as elevated as her sibling’s was, reaching everyone in the room, including those from Leo’s entourage—if their glances at her elderly employees were any indication. “
What I’d like to know is where does he know her from?
”

“Rosalie, Lucille, please…” she reprimanded gently. This was bad enough without their commentary.

Amusement shone in Leo’s eyes, but he remained silent. Clearly, he’d discerned instantly that the women were hopelessly imprudent busybodies.

“My father was the personal physician to the duc and his family once.” There. Hopefully that would hush them for a moment or two.

“Oh, was he?” Lucille’s brows shot up, looking quite elated by this news.

Rosalie’s reaction was entirely different. At the mention of Suzanne’s father, Rosalie burst into an audible sob. She fished out a handkerchief from her bodice, wiped her tears, then blew her nose loudly before composing herself. “God rest him… That dear, dear man…”

“He was indeed a fine man,” Leo concurred without taking his eyes off Suzanne. “Your father shall be greatly missed by all who knew him.”

Suzanne felt the tears rush to her eyes and quickly blinked them back. She wasn’t going to cry before Leo and his men. She was stronger than that. She kept her pain private, confined to the silent tears she shed on her pillow on those rare nights when she let herself cry.

“Thank you,” she managed to say, forcing the words up her constricted throat, a little unbalanced by his remarks. Since leaving Montbrison, she’d continued to correspond with Leo’s sisters. She utterly adored Aurore and Elisabeth. They visited her and her father from time to time, and treated her like sister. They were so different from their eldest brother. There wasn’t a deceptive bone in their bodies. Suzanne knew Aurore and Elisabeth had informed the rest of their siblings of her father’s death. She’d received letters of condolence from each of the d’Ermart brothers.

Except Leo.

And she was rather glad about that. Grateful, in fact, that she’d been spared any dealings with Leo d’Ermart—until Gilles showed up on her doorstep with Leo’s offer.

She hadn’t expected to see Leo ever again. And now she was under the unnerving scrutiny of those sensuous light-colored eyes as they gazed at her boldly. With a certain unmistakable heat.

Oh, she knew that look.

That look meant trouble.

For her.

For any woman who was on the receiving end of one of Leo’s smoldering gazes.

That same undercurrent of desire she’d once felt from him was still there.

That unsettled her further. Clearly, she was right about him. His motives
were
merely carnal in nature. He’d been a force to contend with—utterly irresistible—seven years ago when he was younger. Less experienced at seduction.

She certainly didn’t want to take on the now highly potent master seducer, the Duc de Mont-Marly. They’d competed against each other many times as children. But this wasn’t a childish game. Under no circumstances was she going to fall victim to this dangerously attractive man’s charms.

Not ever again
.

Suzanne clasped her hands, then unclasped them, feeling beyond awkward, when she’d always prided herself on being confident and undaunted in any situation. Leo was rattling her, making her tense. And nervous. Dear God. She could feel another trying blush heating her cheeks, and she had no idea why she was blushing this much. She wanted to kick herself. She hadn’t blushed in the longest time. This was certainly no time to begin anew.

And because she was under Leo’s intense regard, he had definitely noticed.

Moreover, there was little doubt that Lucille and Rosalie had noticed, too. Their curiosity about her and the duc was mounting by the moment. There’d be no peace once he left. They were going to assail her with questions.

She took in a quiet, fortifying breath, ignoring his wonderful scent. It was one of the many things that used to draw her to him and ultimately lured her to her ruin.

The sooner he left, the better.

“Your Grace…” She purposely addressed him formally rather than with the usual more familiar manner she’d always used in the past. Formality kept a distance between them, and that was exactly what she wanted. Actually, what she wanted was for Leo d’Ermart to be back at Montbrison. Or in Paris. Or any place that was far away and not threatening to add to her emotional turmoil. “I pray your visit to my humble shop isn’t due to your offer. I sent a note with your man. Did you not receive it?” she asked pointedly, holding his gaze firmly, despite her disquiet. It was more than a mere question.