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Authors: Vicki Hopkins

Tags: #romantic suspense, #love story, #chick lit, #historical romance, #victorian romance, #romance series, #romance saga, #19th century romance

The Price of Deception (14 page)

BOOK: The Price of Deception
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“I need another favor,” Robert said, as he shifted
his eyes to the desktop thinking how to formulate his words.

“This sounds serious,” Edmund replied.

“Well, not serious, but rather odd. The business I’ve
invested in belongs to Philippe Moreau. It used to be under the
name of Duval & Moreau Shipping, but the elder partner passed
away a few months ago leaving the company close to bankruptcy. Even
though we’ve made our deal, I want to send Philippe to the West
Indies under the ruse he’s to try and close a deal with your
manager. Can that be arranged?”

Edmund eyed Robert up and down suspiciously, and then
pulled his mouth to one side before asking a snide question.

“What are you up to, Robert, you bastard? You’ve got
something up your sleeve, now tell me.”

“Nothing,” Robert replied, with a shrug of his
shoulders. “I just need to remove his presence from Paris for a
month or so to take care of some other matters.”

Edmund looked surprised over his comment. He thought
for a moment and then put two and two together.

“If I didn’t know you better, I’d say there’s some
woman behind this whole set up. You know, I can get to the bottom
of it by myself,” he threatened, with dark eyes.

“Don’t try to intimidate me, Edmund Chambers. I
already know of your indiscretions regarding my sister and the
mistress you have on the side.” He brought his fingers to his chin
and stroked them thoughtfully. “Let’s see, what’s her name—Miss
Arlene Dorothy Graham from London? I think she lives in that little
townhouse that you gave her on Dorsey Street, correct? She travels
with you on your trips to your plantation.”

Edmund’s jaw dropped wide open. He set his glass down
on top of Robert’s desk.

“Very good, brother-in-law. Very good. I shall not
speak of your little scheme, and you shall not speak of my private
social arrangements. The account is yours. Send your Mr. Moreau to
the West Indies, and I’ll write ahead to my manager to close the
deal within a few days of his arrival at our agreed price. Will
that give you enough time to pursue your interests?”

Robert smiled. “Make him linger there for at least
two weeks.”

Never before had Robert considered himself a man who
could devise underhanded schemes. However, for some strange reason
he felt quite pleased at that moment. He had rid Suzette of Moreau
and procured the deal with Lord Chambers.

“Your private matters will remain silent, Edmund, as
I request that mine will, too.”

Though Edmund’s unfaithfulness irked him, at least
Marguerite had her children and was well cared for in every way.
Whether she knew of his indiscretions, he did not know. Regardless,
he wished to protect her from the truth.

Edmund reached across the desk. “A gentleman’s
handshake then, brother-in-law, and I shall see to it the man is
kept at bay for at least two weeks in the West Indies. With the
travel time, I’m sure he’ll be away long enough for you to conclude
your business dealings.”

Robert grasped Edmund’s hand and enthusiastically
shook it up and down.

“Yes, I believe that will give me ample time to
conclude my business. Ample time, indeed.”

* * * *

A month had passed after Philippe
sent his initial report to his investor. He had taken the money and
paid off delinquent debts, caught up on past-due payroll to his
employees, and began soliciting again for more business. He hadn’t,
however, expected the surprising instructions recently received by
post.

His anonymous investor had been busy at work behind
the scenes in his own effort to build the business. A promising
prospective customer showed interest in the Moreau Shipping Company
and wished to meet with him. The news would not have been
problematic if it was a local client, but the customer’s main
operation came out of the British West Indies.

Philippe had been instructed, as a further condition
of continued support, to travel abroad to negotiate a rather large
contract for transportation of sugarcane back to the European
market. It could prove to be an extremely lucrative arrangement,
which would help him raise enough money to purchase another ship.
He frankly despised the idea of a lengthy sea voyage again having
had his fill in the French Navy.

Suzette had been rather peeved at
Philippe already for hiding the truth about his business woes, but
had braced herself for possible changes. Duval’s death had
devastated her as well, and Philippe believed she had sensed his
own loss of a true friend.

As expected, her old insecurities rose from the
trials she had endured previously. However, to her immense relief
all plans for change ended upon the sudden arrival of an investor.
Afterward Philippe spent more time at the office and away from
home, which Suzette understood as a necessary requirement. He
determined to follow through on the conditions of his investor to
make sure all went well.

Once again, when a serious discussion needed to
occur, he sought her out and spoke the words that instantly drew a
sense of dread.

“I need to speak with you.”

“I’m almost afraid to agree to the request,” she
admitted. “But, of course.”

“It’s not all that bad, my love,” he assured Suzette,
as he sat next to her on the settee. “In fact, it’s good news
again.”

“Well, then tell me the good news.”

“I have the opportunity to secure a rather large
account that will definitely be the feather in our cap, if I can
close the deal. When I do, Suzette, you can be assured of our
financial security for some time.”

“Really?” she asked with keen interest. “What kind of
account, Philippe?”

“It’s a plantation—a plantation in the British West
Indies that needs transportation of its sugarcane crop to European
markets.”

“You mean sugar? Oh, Robert, that sounds exciting!
Have you been in correspondence already with the owner?”

“Well, not exactly. I’ve yet to
speak with them, and that’s where I need to talk with
you.”

“What do you mean?”

“It requires that I travel to the West Indies,
Suzette, to procure the deal. There is no contract as of yet,
however, my anonymous investor has paved the way and is requiring
that I go personally.”

“What? And leave your wife and family? Is he insane?”
Suzette felt sick inside. “You cannot be serious?”

“I’m afraid I am. I need to go. Our future depends
upon it. You’ll be fine. The servants are here now to take care of
everything; and if you’d like, I’ll hire a butler to oversee the
household. That should provide you enough assurance with a male
presence nearby and a sense of security. Would that help?”

“We can’t afford a butler,” she protested.

The look in her eyes told Philippe she liked the
idea. She had complained beforehand that the house felt
overwhelmingly empty whenever he left. She didn’t like being alone.
Philippe associated her distress with memories of Robert leaving
her unaccompanied for weeks on end, while he proceeded with his
deception of marriage.

“Don’t worry. If I get this deal signed, we can
afford ten butlers.”

Suzette looked at him in dismay,
but he returned her look with determination. She had to agree that
it needed to happen.

“Well, then, when are you leaving and how long will
you be gone, Philippe?”

“There is a ship leaving at the end of the week. I
should be back within a month or two, no longer.”

“Oh, God,” she moaned. “I wish you didn’t have to
go.” Suzette reached over and held his hand.

“You’ll be all right,” he assured. He gathered
Suzette into his arms and heard a sigh of surrender release from
her lungs.

“Promise me that you’ll write and let me know you’ve
arrived safely.”

“Of course, my love, but no doubt I’ll have returned
by the time the post makes it back to Paris.”

“Humor me anyway.”

He hugged her tightly. “I’ll write.”

* * * *

The days passed far too quickly for Suzette. When the
time for his departure arrived, she insisted on accompanying
Philippe to the docks. He had said his goodbyes to Robert and
Angelique, telling the lad to be a big boy and watch over his
mother while away.

“You’re the man of the house now,”
he instructed, with a serious look. Robert readily accepted his
assignment, along with the butler’s help, of course.

As the carriage pulled toward the docks and came to a
stop, Suzette held Philippe’s hand tight. She looked at the ship.
An ill-omened sense rose in her stomach, and her worry-wart mind
played its usual tricks of torment.

“I should go on board,” Philippe
announced. “It’s time.” He exited, and Suzette insisted on walking
him to the boarding ramp.

“I don’t like this,” she confessed. “For some reason
I just feel like something is not right.”

Philippe stroked the side of her face with the palm
of his hand. “I’ll be back before you know it, Suzette. Don’t
despair. This is a trip that will bring us prosperity and nothing
else.”

Suzette couldn’t shake off the
uncomfortable intuition. Trips across the Atlantic were dangerous.
Ships often sank. What if he didn’t come back? She’d be left with
nothing! The thought brought old insecurities to the forefront, and
she quickly wrapped her arms around Philippe.

“Be safe, please,” she pleaded. “Come home as soon as
you can.”

Philippe put his hands on her
shoulders and gently pushed her away from his chest. “I promise.”
He placed his lips on hers and gave Suzette a long, deep kiss. When
he finished, he smiled and then turned to board the
ship.

Suzette stood silently and watched
his departure, shrouded in contradiction. She had convinced herself
for some time that she really didn’t love him like she had once
loved Robert. However, as she saw his departure, she realized that
perhaps more attachment existed than she cared to admit. He was,
after all, her provider and husband.

Philippe stopped, turned, and waved goodbye. Suzette
raised her hand and waved back. She blew him a kiss and smiled.
When he disappeared on board, she climbed into the carriage and
returned home to spend the next month or two in solitude with her
children and worrisome thoughts.

Chapter Twelve

Marguerite, Edmund, and the children came and
went, and Robert became antsy. He had been advised by Monsieur
Benoit that Philippe had departed for the West Indies that week.
The moment in time neared for Robert to make his move, but one
person held him back—his wife.

He thought the best occasion to bring up the subject
would be at dinner with his mother and Jacquelyn together, plus a
room full of household staff that served the table. Surely, she
wouldn’t make a scene in the presence of others—at least he
hoped.

The soup arrived and they all
quietly sipped the liquid with their spoons, enjoying the chicken
broth before the main course. For a few moments, he studied the
pattern of the plate placed in front of him. All his life, he had
never cared to stare at it with any discerning observation, but
today it held his attention.

The Spode bone china, which had been in his family
for generations, suddenly came alive before his eyes. In the
pattern that splashed across the center of his bowl, were tiny
lilies sprinkled between the flora. What a strange thing to see at
the bottom of his chicken soup after all these years. It gave him
the fortitude to lift his gaze, look at his dinner companions, and
open his mouth.

“I suppose you two will be redecorating the dining
room next. It could use a makeover, as far as I’m concerned.”

Mary looked at him in astonishment. “And when have
you ever been interested in decorating, Robert? I thought you
abhorred our little hobby.”

“No, no, of course not. I just thought since I need
to travel to Paris on business tomorrow morning that it might be a
good idea for you to pursue another project during my absence.”

“Paris? Why do you need to go to Paris? We just came
back a few months ago,” his wife demanded.

Robert braced himself, but kept his voice calm.
“Jacquelyn, I need to go on business, and frankly I need to go
alone. I won’t be gone long.”

“What kind of business?” she flung
in irritation. Jacquelyn dropped her spoon into her soup plate.
“There is only one type of business I’m aware of that you pursue
while in Paris.”

Robert pulled his eyes away from her glare, cussing
at the woman inwardly. It was obvious, Jacquelyn wanted to pick a
fight with him in front of his mother and everyone else in the
household. He had to put a stop to it.

“It’s business,” he said, emphatically. “The trip is
not up for discussion.”

The room’s atmosphere grew thick. He could hear the
server behind him shuffle his feet. Robert refused to look at his
wife or mother while he continued to finish his soup in the
lily-patterned bowl. He pushed the plate away and looked up.

“Next course, please.”

The servant took his soup bowl
away, and a plate of roast duck landed in front of him. He couldn’t
believe the coincidental menu choice for the evening. Robert
methodically picked up his fork and jabbed at the meat like he had
five years ago. It had to be some kind of omen. Perhaps this trip
would prove fruitless. He honestly didn’t know, but he’d never rest
until he pursued the truth.

He carved a piece of breast and
took a bite. Suddenly, his wife’s voice returned to taunt him.
Robert swallowed and lifted his eyes in displeasure.

“What do you think, Mary,”
Jacquelyn inquired with a sarcastic tone to her voice. “Shall we
redecorate the dining room while his lordship takes care of
business?”

BOOK: The Price of Deception
13.44Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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