Read The Price of Deception Online
Authors: Vicki Hopkins
Tags: #romantic suspense, #love story, #chick lit, #historical romance, #victorian romance, #romance series, #romance saga, #19th century romance
“And how is my wife?” Philippe strode toward her,
then embraced and kissed Suzette. It felt good to hold her in his
arms again; but instead of returning any kind of affection, Suzette
seemed rigid.
“Is that the way you greet your husband?” He pulled
away from her body. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, Philippe. I haven’t been well. I guess,
I’ve just fallen into a state of low spirits since you departed.”
She reached out and touched his hand. “I’ll be better now that
you’ve returned.”
Philippe raised his hand and cupped her cheek in his
palm. “I’m sorry for having been away for so long. It took forever
to close the deal, but I have and quite successfully, I might add.
You have nothing to worry about, Suzette. Our future is
secure.”
Suzette finally looked at his appearance and
commented. “You haven’t shaved either, I see, and your hair is
longer. I must say with that tan, you look like a local islander.”
She paused for a moment. “Did you enjoy yourself?”
Philippe brought his hand to his chin stroking his
new addition with pride. Actually, he liked his beard, because it
made him feel like a new man with a new business.
“Immensely! It was such an exotic paradise. I wish
you could have been there with me. Perhaps it was foolish not to
have brought you, also.”
“Well, I certainly couldn’t have gone and left
Angelique or Robert, now could I?”
“No, I suppose not,” he admitted. “Perhaps one day
when the children are older, we’ll take an exotic vacation, and
I’ll show you the West Indies. I’m sure you’ll love the blue waters
and white beaches. It’s so different than Paris.”
“It sounds quite wonderful.”
“I missed Angelique. Has she been all right?”
“She’s in the nursery with Madame Dubois.” Suzette
added with a hint of irritation, “And Robert, did you miss him
too?”
“Of course, I did. Behaving I would hope.”
“Not exactly,” Suzette admitted, in
discouragement.
“What do you mean?”
“There was an incident while you were away.”
“What kind of mischievous incident?” he replied,
making light of the ability of a five-year-old lad to get into
serious trouble.
“He pushed over the bassinet and sent Angelique
hurling toward the floor. Thank God, she landed on the soft
carpeting and sustained no injuries.”
“He what?” he howled. His face darkened in anger.
“What on earth possessed him to do such a thing?”
“It seems he thinks you love her more. I told him
that wasn’t the truth, but he’s gotten it in his little head.
Frankly, I think it’s a case of sibling jealousy. A newborn has
taken away attention from him. Perhaps it will pass.”
Philippe’s nostrils flared. “I’ll make sure that
never happens again!” He turned on his heel and stormed down the
hallway toward Robert’s room.
“Philippe, where are you going?” Suzette called after
him.
Vehement over Robert’s actions, he flew into his
bedroom and found Robert on the floor playing with toys. Philippe
rushed over to the boy and hovered above him with his hands on his
hips.
“What’s this I hear, young man, about you pushing
over Angelique’s bassinet?”
“Daddy!”
“Don’t daddy me, you . . .” Philippe, tired and
enraged, bit his tongue, but could not restrain his outrage over
the reckless action that could have injured his daughter. He
flipped open his belt buckle and pulled the leather swiftly from
its loops.
“Philippe, stop!” screamed Suzette, as she approached
from behind.
“It will stop, and it will stop now. When I’m done
with the lad, he’ll never lay a hand upon his sister again.”
Little Robert’s eyes grew wide with fear as
Philippe’s large hand reached out and grabbed his wrist. Suzette
continued to shout her disapproval, but Philippe pushed her aside
and walked Robert down the hall to another room.
Before Suzette could stop him, he had slammed the
door shut and locked it behind him.
“I’m sorry, Daddy. I won’t do it again.”
Philippe said nothing. Suzette, struck with fear,
pounded on the door pleading for him to stop.
As he looked at the little boy that bore the
resemblance of the Duke, something within him snapped. He flipped
the boy over his knee, pulled down his trousers, and laid his first
welt upon the white bottom of a five-year-old boy.
“You’ll learn never to touch her again.”
Whack. Whack. Whack
.
Robert wailed in pain. Suzette pounded upon the door,
but Philippe ignored her pleas. He hit the boy repeatedly until he
had expelled his anger and made his point. After he finished, he
shoved Robert off his lap and watched him tumble onto the floor
with tears streaming down his face.
“Will you do it again?” he asked sternly.
The boy merely cried.
“I asked you a question, damn you! Answer me. Will
you do it again?”
“No—no—Daddy. I promise . . .”
His little voice gasped between each word. Philippe
felt vindicated enough to leave him with his wounds and a lesson
learned. He had never taken a belt to the boy before, but believed
it to be well deserved.
Angelique embodied his flesh and blood. He had waited
for her birth to solidify his marriage with Suzette. No
illegitimate child would usurp her rights. After today, he would
know never to touch his sister again.
Philippe stepped around Robert, who lay crying on the
floor, and headed for the door. He flung it open. Suzette glared at
him with astonishment and fear. Her tear-streaked face radiated
horror, but Philippe felt no need to apologize for his actions.
“I can assure you, he’ll never lay a hand on our
daughter again.”
He walked past his wife and strode down the hallway
leaving Suzette behind to tend to her son. Philippe entered the
nursery, where Madame Dubois sat by his daughter’s bassinet
watching her sleep. When she saw him, she stood to her feet at
attention, like a soldier responding to her commander.
“How is she?” He glanced down with adoration and
amazement over her tiny body.
“She is quite well, Monsieur.”
“Leave,” he ordered. “I want to hold her for a
while.”
The governess quickly departed. Surely, she had heard
what transpired down the hall, but he didn’t give a damn.
He slipped his arms underneath Angelique’s little
body and lifted her to his chest cradling her head in one hand. She
looked like a porcelain doll. He turned her to and fro, examining
her for bruises and found none.
He smiled and kissed her cheek. “Forever my little
girl,” he fussed. “Forever my little girl.”
* * * *
Suzette ran to her son’s side. He lay on the floor in
a fetal position, with his pants down around his knees. The red
welts from the beating appeared sickening. Tears streamed down
Suzette’s face as she watched Robert writhe in pain.
“Mommy,” he moaned.
“There, there, Robert, I’m here,” she tenderly
consoled. She knelt and stroked his hair wet from tears
“I’m so sorry, honey.”
“I hate him,” he blubbered. “I told you that he hated
me.”
“He doesn’t hate you,” Suzette corrected him. “He’s
taken care of you since the day you were born. He’s just angry that
you hurt Angelique.”
Suzette pulled Robert into her arms and began to rock
him back and forth to ease him through his tears and pain. When he
had calmed down, she took him to the bath chamber and placed a cold
cloth on his bottom to help reduce the swelling. With each grimace
of pain, Suzette’s heart tore.
How could Philippe do such a cruel thing
? For
the first time in their marriage, she questioned his true feelings
toward her son. Had she been blind in believing that he had
unconditionally accepted Robert? She had always thought him loving
and gentle, but the unbridled anger she just witnessed appalled her
to the core. The resentment she thought never existed had finally
exposed its ugly head.
She spent the next few minutes cooling and comforting
Robert. Suzette walked her son back to his room, put his exhausted
body to bed, and tucked him in. His countenance, grim and
miserable, worried her. Robert appeared to withdraw into a world
far away.
Suzette kissed him tenderly on his cheek to reaffirm
her love. “Robert, I will always love you, no matter what you do.
Don’t ever forget.” She sighed and stroked his head. “Try and
forgive Daddy, too.”
He turned his head away from her and stared at the
wall. Angry at Philippe for his cruelty, she rose and left Robert
alone, hoping that he would soon sleep. Quietly, she retreated,
closed the door behind her, and made her way down the hall.
With each step she took, her heart pounded in
resentment over Philippe’s insensitivity. She stormed into the
bedroom and found him unpacking his clothes. He must have heard her
approach, because a snide remark left his lips without giving her
the courtesy to turn around.
“No doubt the little lad is still alive, but the
point well taken.”
“How could you be so physically harsh?” She shoved
herself into his face with daring audacity.
“Easily,” he spewed. “You think he was not physically
cruel to our daughter by pushing over the bassinet and sending an
infant tumbling to the floor? What if she had hit her head on an
object and died?”
“I reprimanded him over the matter and was going to
ask you to speak with him upon your return. I had no idea this
would be your response. You’ve bruised his body in your tyrannical
moment of discipline.”
“Good Lord, Suzette. I didn’t kill the boy. I merely
gave him the whipping he deserved. My father whipped me with a belt
often as a boy, and I lived. A good spanking now and then will keep
him in line.”
“You’re not to set your hand upon him again,” Suzette
hissed.
Philippe spun around. His eyes turned dark and
stormy. “Don’t threaten your husband. I’m the head of this
household, not you! Your behavior is unbecoming.” He turned away
and folded another shirt placing it in the dresser drawer.
“Please,” Suzette reiterated between clenched teeth.
“Do not touch him again.”
“I’ll do as I see fit to raise the boy,” he tersely
replied. He closed the dresser drawer with a slam and turned his
attention upon Suzette. For the first time in their marriage, she
took a step back from him to put distance between their bodies. It
made no difference, because Philippe closed the gap quickly with
his long stride.
“I’ve just returned after months of being away,” he
spoke, softly. “Is a strife-filled argument all you can give me to
welcome me home?”
He bent down and kissed her lips, but Suzette found
his behavior repulsive. She tried to feign his advances by
attempting to return an ounce of welcome in return. Her stomach
turned into a ball of knots.
Philippe drew away. “I need your body,” he said,
lustfully running his palm down the length of her arm. He stopped
and placed his hand upon her hip and pulled her pelvis flush to his
own. “It’s been too long. I need a release.”
Suzette’s mind panicked. Her thoughts quickly
scrambled to think of an excuse. As long as she continued to breast
feed, she would have no menses. She wondered if Philippe knew such
things about a woman’s body.
Appalled over the thought of sharing herself, after
having been with Robert, Suzette shrilled out a lie. “My menses
returned yesterday. I cannot share your bed.”
Philippe’s brow furrowed. “I don’t understand.”
“You know nothing of a woman’s body,” she cajoled.
“After you have a baby it takes a few months for them to return,
and they have.” Suzette held her breath as she watched Philippe
absorb her lie, praying he was none the wiser.
He stepped back in response. “Fine then,” he mumbled,
as he shrugged his shoulders. “I shall wait until it passes.”
Suzette said nothing more. She almost giggled aloud
with nervous relief but suppressed the urge.
“I have business to attend to in my study.” He
retreated with a scowl upon his face.
Given a slight reprieve from returning to her
husband’s arms, Suzette watched him leave the room. Her thoughts
drifted toward Robert. She wondered how he fared with his irate
wife, who frankly had every right to scream at her husband. A brief
wave of regret for giving in to her lover’s temptation swept over
her soul. Her feet felt as if they stood in quicksand, and soon she
would sink to the bottom with no one to save her.
She had barely recovered from his wife’s embarrassing
discovery of them on the divan. She and Robert shared such reckless
abandonment in each other’s presence when they joined together as
one flesh. He had captivated her weakness, but Suzette loved Robert
for far more reasons than just the electricity he sent through her
body during intimacy.
Determined to stay away from Philippe as much as
possible, Suzette wandered down the hall to her son’s bedchamber
and quietly opened the door. He appeared to have fallen asleep, so
Suzette sat in the chair next to his bed to gaze upon his little
body tucked safely beneath the blanket.
Being near him somehow bound her to Robert with ties
that could not be broken. Suzette could not comprehend why she did
not feel the same with Angelique and Philippe. Her emotions could
only be justified by her profound and abiding love for Robert.
As she began to think of all the obstacles they both
faced, Suzette fell into a deep hopelessness. Almost certainly,
Robert had faced hell from a woman scorned, while she spurned her
husband. Both of their lives had weaved together into a complicated
mess of adultery and deception. She could only imagine the anguish
that lay ahead.
* * * *
Philippe wandered downstairs toward his study,
troubled over his wife’s greeting upon his arrival home. The return
of Suzette’s menses at least explained her pale countenance and
emotional demeanor.