Plain And Proper


It was a beautiful day. The skies were blue and large fluffy clouds floated along providing intermittent shade for the people working in the fertile fields of the estate. Several of them stopped to raise a cap to the chestnut-haired miss driving a small wagon along the back road between the village and the manor house. She smiled and waved at them happily and they smiled as she returned from her errand, for this little lady was dear to each of them. Her gentleness and kindness endeared her to people; her exuberant nature delighted them. There was not one person on the estate who would not willingly do battle to protect her from the ugliness of life. Their thoughts were kind for her; but her thoughts were not gentle at the moment. At this moment in time, Lady Marianne Pumphrey, seventeen-year-old niece of the Baroness of Tregallen, was most decidedly out of sorts. And it was all the fault of hair ribbons and her constantly rebellious hair.
Just once, the pretty child thought irritably as the ribbons slipped from her hair, she would like to own a hair ribbon that stayed where it was put. She grabbed for the ribbons as they slid out of her hair and overbalanced as she hung out over the side of the wagon. Ribbons and Marianne fell over the side and landed in the mud. She watched the wagon roll off without her until the horse realized no one was making it move. It stopped and lowered its head to crop at the weeds along the old cart trail. Aunt is going to kill me, she sighed as she looked at the skirts of her new purple gingham dress covered in mud.
“Are you hurt, Miss?” a young man’s voice filled with concern and a tinge of amusement sounded from above her. Joanna looked up to see a young man filling a uniform to great effect dismounting from the back of an immense gray stallion to hold his hand out to her. “Let me help you.”
Marianne could not speak. It was as if her voice, the very air in her lungs had been taken from her. No man should be allowed to be so perfect, she thought as he helped her to her feet and began to knock the clumps of mud from her skirts. His warm brown eyes, the color of the sherry Aunt took for medicinal purposes before bed, were looking down at her from several inches above her head. She was suddenly very conscious of the fact that she was covered in mud and her hair had fallen loose all around her. And he was laughing at her. She stepped away and muttered something about being late. He bowed his head and mounted his beautiful stallion and rode off without another word. A hallucination, she told herself. He had to have been her imagination because real men just did not have any right to look like every fairy tale prince who had ever populated her dreams and imaginations. She pulled the ribbons out of the mud and trudged down the road to the wagon, climbing up with a frown on her heart-shaped face. She picked up the reins and slapped them gently against the horse’s neck. It started trudging again and Marianne sat back to ponder what she had done to deserve the series of misfortunes today had become.
When she had woken up this lovely morning, she had been looking forward to spending a day in the village schoolhouse helping the new teacher, Widow Larchmont, prepare the lessons for the younger children. Instead, her invalid aunt Eustacia Pumphrey, the Baroness Tregallen, had decided that Marianne needed to go – at once – to the village of Stone Hollow and pick up her medications from the Postmaster. Since Marianne was the only one around when she had issued this dictate, once again the servants had been absent, it fell on her to make the trip. She could not complain over much; her aunt had taken her in when her parents had died and she had no other family to care for her. Marianne loved the irascible invalid quite dearly for all of Eustacia’s demands. The prim and proper Eustacia Pumphrey and her lively young niece had formed an instant and permanent bond at first sight.
“Aunt?” Marianne called out as she walked into the house after washing as much of the mud off in the garden pond as she could. She was now soaking wet and barefoot instead of filthy. Her hair had been pulled back and tied with a length of leather from the tack room. “I’m back.” There was no answer and she went to the sitting room where Eustacia had been when Marianne had left that morning. Eustacia was there with a tall russet-haired man with gray eyes and a slightly shorter younger man with golden hair and warm brown eyes standing behind the settee the first man was occupying. It was the man who had seen her earlier. Joanna blushed furiously as he smiled at her again. She turned to her aunt, who did not look at all pleased for either of the men to be there.
“I assume this urchin is Marianne?” The russet-haired man said stiffly as he rose to his feet and looked at her in shock. He schooled his features and waited for some acknowledgement. “She takes after her mother, I see.”
“I did not know we were expecting company, Aunt,” Marianne ignored the cold man and turned to her aunt. She went to kiss her on the cheek. Dear Aunt Eustacia, who looked as if she wanted to laugh at her, kept her lips pursed in displeasure and shook her head. Marianne stepped back and felt like hitting one of those smug-faced men. Instead she remained quiet.
“Obviously,” Eustacia shook her head, her hair styled in the proper manner for an elderly invalid. The little lace cap was held in place with ruby-headed pins that glistened against the still deep black of her hair. Her blue eyes were sharp with annoyance as she straightened the skirts of her gray gown where Marianne had crumpled them before nodding at the men. “This is your uncle, Lord Andrew Macalester, the Earl of Avondale, Marianne. The young gentleman with him is his Aide, Lord Gerard Travers, the Earl of Strathmore.”
Marianne went pale then. They were entertaining two peers of high rank and she was standing barefoot with her dress dripping water on her aunt’s best carpet. She could only imagine what she must look like to them. But neither of them was aghast; they appeared to be much more amused; then shocked. They were laughing at her! Marianne straightened then and glared at them coldly, her chin tilted in indignation. Instead of being cowed, they both seemed to be highly amused at her behavior. Marianne had never been angrier in her life.
“Your uncle and his platoon will be staying with us for a while.” She noted the man’s look of censure. “Go upstairs and have Estelle help you wash up and change. We are expected at the Tremayne’s for dinner in an hour.”
“Yes, Aunt,” Marianne nodded and left the room wondering why the sight of that brown-eyed man made her so uneasy. Her lady’s maid, Estelle, was waiting for her. “I fell off the wagon trying to catch my ribbons, Estelle,” Marianne explained her condition as Estelle helped her undress.
“Honestly, my lady,” Estelle sighed. “You have to stop acting like a child. You’re a young woman now.” Her eyes were twinkling with amusement then. “That young gentleman is very handsome, is he not?”
“He helped me up after I fell,” Marianne said as she slipped off her boots and removed her stockings. She heard Estelle gasp and turned to look at her. “What is wrong now?”
“You have destroyed another dress, my lady,” Estelle stated, looking as if she wanted to cry. Marianne saw the rip then and she went red. The Earl of Strathmore had seen her like that! They all had seen her like that, but no one had commented on it. They obviously had manners.
“He must have thought me some village doxy…”
“My lady!” Estelle broke in. “You are a lady. You do not use such language.” She put the ruined gown aside. “It can be used to make a dress for Widow Larchmont’s daughter.” Marianne smiled and agreed. The school teacher was one of her favorite people in the world and her daughter, Esme, was the sweetest child Marianne had ever known. “We’d best hurry. Your aunt will want to be on time.” Marianne washed and slipped on a clean chemise and undergarments. The long-suffering woman helped her into a lovely violet blue gown the exact shade of her eyes. It was cut in the latest style, but along modest lines. Her first grown up dress, Marianne sighed happily.
“It’s so lovely,” Marianne smiled as she ran her hand along the silk. “But Aunt said I was not to have a new gown until my birthday.”
“Your uncle, Lord Macalester, brought you several new dresses,” Elise said as she wrestled her charge’s hair up, winding violet blue ribbon through it. “There!” She nodded in satisfaction. “Let us try to keep these ribbons in place, young lady!”
Marianne was too young to have any other adornment except the locket her Mama had left her, so Estelle found a violet blue velvet ribbon and the locket went around the girl’s slim neck. Estelle handed her the white lace shawl and the pair of white gloves and sent her on her way, asking herself yet again what she had done to deserve such a child as her charge. Equal measures of delight and exasperation, Marianne was the dearest girl Estelle had ever known. Everyone who met her felt the same way.
Marianne paused at the top of the stairs and looked at the two men. They had changed into evening clothes and she was stunned. They were two of the handsomest men she had ever seen in all her seventeen years. They turned as Eustacia gasped and looked at her. Marianne checked herself quickly. Had she destroyed her pretty new gown already? But it was admiration she saw in the eyes of the young man who was coming towards her. Uncle Andrew nodded and leaned down to listen to Eustacia’s comments, nodding as he devoted his attention to the woman.
“Andrew,” Eustacia said tightly. “That is the most…”
“She’s not a little girl any more, Eustacia,” Andrew replied. “It is time she dressed – and acted – like the young woman she is.”
“She looks beautiful,” Gerard said softly. Beautiful was such an inadequate word for the way this girl looked. The gown caressed her curves lovingly and his hands itched to do the same thing. He chided himself for such thoughts. She was his charge, and she was the niece of a man he admired and respected. He had no right to think what he was thinking about the lovely creature standing before them.
“Do come along, child,” Eustacia sighed as she saw the girl trying to extricate her shawl from a scrolling in the stair rails. Gerard went to help her and Eustacia noted the way Marianne blushed as his hand touched hers accidentally. She turned to Andrew and the man was looking quite definitely elsewhere. Her eyes narrowed as she realized her niece was being ambushed. This was not to be allowed! She would have to have ‘words’ with her brother-in-law later.
“Leave the thing,” Andrew snapped just as the shawl came loose. He hid his smile as the young man he had selected for his niece settled the shawl around her shoulders and smiled. Marianne looked dazed for several precious moments, and then she blushed again. She was really quite pretty when she blushed, Gerard thought absently. He reached up to touch her lovely skin. “Travers!” The man snapped to attention and backed up a step and held his arm out to Marianne. “Eustacia,” Andrew nodded and held his arm out to his sister-in-law.
Marianne looked over at the cold-eyed man warily as he helped her aunt into the carriage. She tried quite hard not to look at the young man seated across from her, but he would catch her glances and be smiling at her in amusement. She was quite miserably certain that he now thought her a complete ninny and that thought did not please her one bit. For some strange reason, she wanted this man to think kindly of her. The journey to Tremayne Manor was soon over and she felt relief flooding into her as soon as the door opened and Hugh Tremayne, the young son of the Duke of Ravenhold, rushed out. He was the same age as Marianne and they had been friends since they were eight. He skidded to a halt as he saw the strangers and he bowed and waited for an introduction.
“Lord Hugh, this is Marianne’s uncle; Lord Andrew Macalester, Earl of Avondale,” Eustacia said to the boy. He nodded and she introduced the other man, who was eyeing the boy critically. “And this is Lord Gerard Travers, Earl of Strathmore; his Aide.” She turned to her cold-eyed brother-in-law. “Andrew, this is the youngest son of the Duke of Ravenhold, Hugh Tremayne. He and his brothers and sister are your cousin Marianne’s closest friends.”
“Marianne is at an age, Eustacia,” Andrew sniffed and looked down his nose at the boy; “where she should set aside childhood friendships and concentrate on finding a husband.”
“Come on, Hugh,” Marianne said stiffly as she put her arm through his and rushed him into the house. They continued on until they were in the kitchens. She sank down on a stool at the worktable and sighed.
“That stiff is your uncle, Mari?” Hugh hissed. “What hole did they dig him out of?”
He froze as his older brother, Robert, heir to the dukedom, came in. At twenty-four, his blond hair and blue eyes made him the very image of the fairy tale prince every other young girl grew up wanting. Marianne just found him annoying. He ruffled her hair gently so that he did not disturb the ribbons and grabbed a cookie off the cooling board. Then he froze and looked at her in shock. He made her stand up and she saw an expression in his eyes that had never been there before as he made her turn.
“You’re all grown-up, Mari,” Robert said softly; admiration plain in his voice. “When did that happen?”
“It’s the dress,” Marianne dismissed his comment. “My uncle gave it to me.” She was really glad to see him. He would keep that odious man and his disturbing aide off of her. Robert had just come back from university and she had missed him. “I’m so glad you’re home, Robert. I have a feeling I am going to need all the help I can find with that man here.”
“So this is where we sign the pact of mutual abhorrence?” Robert laughed and made a face. “Ye Gods, Mari! He is a royal bastard and that Aide of his is just as bad!”
“I’d like to sign that,” Stephen, the second son, joined them. He was struggling to tie his cravat and there was a look of annoyance on his face. “Imagine him taking exception with the way I tied my neck cloth!”
“Brrr!” his twin, Samuel, added as he took over the task and tied it easily. “I’ve never met colder fish in my life.”
“You’re only twenty two, Samuel,” Marianne laughed. “I’m sure you’ll meet…” She trailed off as she saw the twins’ expression. “It’s just a dress! I’m still Marianne!” She heard her aunt’s voice calling out imperiously and sighed. “Excuse me, gentlemen. My aunt summons and I, her obedient and loving niece, must obey.”
She hurried out and the boys looked at each other seriously. They considered Marianne their little sister and they were not going to let a man like Andrew Macalester hurt her. It was just that they suddenly realized she wasn’t a child any longer. That dress had shown them exactly how grown up their little sister had become. And they were even more determined to protect her. Men would be falling all over themselves to get to her. Robert put out his hand and his brothers added theirs in age order.
“We protect her no matter what harm may befall us,” Robert said softly. His brothers nodded. “Then let’s go out there and run interference for our little friend.”
Marianne was sitting at her aunt’s side, her small hands folded in her lap demurely. She was a pretty girl and she made quite a picture, but her eyes were anything but calm. The boys could see the Ice Man, as they had now dubbed Andrew, had said something to make her angry. Gerard stood off in a corner looking quite annoyed. She was a sweet girl but it took so little to make her explode. They accepted punch from the footman and settled in around their charge, their looks daring Andrew or Gerard to say one word to them about how inappropriate it was for a young girl to have so many young men as her protectors.
“I chanced upon a piece of music the other day,” the Dowager, their grandmother, was saying as they started to listen; “that I thought Marianne would adore. It is from an old French opera…”
“Nothing French could possibly be good,” Gerard spoke up, sniffing in disdain. He saw their shock. “We are at war with the people, are we not?”
“We are at war with the man who claims to represent the people,” Marianne spoke up coldly. Being a quarter French, she was very touchy about the subject. She met his eyes easily. “Many of the French abhor Napoleon Bonaparte, Lord Travers.”
“And what would a child only recently released from the schoolroom possibly know about such things?” Andrew said coldly.
Marianne flushed with anger as she met his disdain. She was not used to being treated like her opinion didn’t matter. Aunt encouraged her to read and study and form opinions. This man, obviously, was not used to women who had intelligence. But he had not been the man who has insulted the French people. She looked over at Gerard now and he was watching her quite closely, as if he expected her to do something childish. But then she noted that his eyes were not on her face for long; they trailed down to take in her slim yet curvaceous form and she was mortified. Had he any right to look at her in that manner, as if he wanted to see what lay underneath her pretty gown? She was certain he did not!
“Aunt Eustacia,” Marianne turned to her guardian. “If you would excuse me, I am in need of some fresh air.”
“Dinner is served,” the Butler intoned as Eustacia was deciding.
Marianne sighed and found the stiff Gerard offering her his arm and she turned and accepted Robert’s instead. She was not going to let herself be anywhere near the man if she could help it. But she was seated next to him, she found to her dismay. At least Margaret, the Duke’s only daughter, was on her other side. She was nineteen and newly returned from a trip to the Continent with her other grandmother. She quite happily encouraged Margaret to speak of her travel and ignored her other dinner companion completely. That ended when Andrew knocked his knife against a glass and rose to his feet with it in his hand after dinner had ended. They were in the sitting room then enjoying after-dinner pleasantries.
“I have the great pleasure of announcing an engagement,” he said to the company. “Gentlemen,” he nodded to the Duke and his sons; “Lady Margaret,” he smiled briefly at the duke’s daughter. “Please join me in a toast to Lord Gerard Travers and my niece, the Lady Marianne Pumphrey.” He watched her choke. Margaret patted her back gently and murmured pained congratulations. “May they have a long and happy life together.”
He waited for the explosion. He saw it there in her eyes, but she just sat there silent and fuming as Gerard took her hand in his and kissed it. She looked up at him in mute horror and Gerard looked uneasy. He had told Andrew this would not work. The girl was a mere child, despite her pretty new dress. She knew nothing of men. But looking down into her brilliant eyes, the violet enhanced by her tears, he found he wanted her to know of only one man; himself and no other. He sank back in his seat, stunned. She was not like the women he associated with; what was it about this chestnut-haired urchin that appealed to him?
“The girl is completely lacking in manners, Eustacia,” Andrew said the moment they got in the carriage to return home. “It is not proper to ignore dinner companions, Miss.”
Marianne sat in the corner, making herself as small as possible and shook with anger. How dare he decide whom she was going to marry! He had announced her engagement as if she should be happy about it. She looked over at Gerard and saw that he was not happy either. He didn’t want to be engaged to her? Then why had he offered for her?
“If you find me disagreeable,” Gerard added, as he looked quite annoyed; “that is because you are not giving me a chance to make myself known to you.”
“I don’t want to know you, Lord Travers,” Marianne told him bluntly, no longer able to keep her tongue. “And I most certainly do not wish to be engaged to you!” She heard her aunt’s shocked gasp. “You taught me to be honest, Aunt Eustacia.” She looked at her uncle. “I do not like you, Uncle. You make me very uneasy with your sudden appearance in our home.” The moment the carriage arrived home she was out the door and up the stairs into her room. Estelle was helping her into her robe when there was a knock on the door. She knew it would be him. “Come in, Uncle.”
“Would you leave us a moment, Estelle,” Andrew asked the maid. “I need to speak with my niece alone.”
“That would hardly be proper,” Marianne snapped at him. “If this is something that Estelle can not hear, then I do not wish to hear it.” Andrew moved so fast her head was still spinning as he yanked her to her feet and slapped her across the face. She put her hand to her cheek and looked at him in shock. “How dare you lay your hands on me! You have no right!”
“I have every right,” Andrew replied stiffly. “I am your guardian and I will not condone your lack of respect.”
“Aunt Eustacia is my guardian,” Marianne protested.
“No, child,” Andrew shook his head. “Your parents awarded that ‘honor’ to me in their wills. I left you with Eustacia because I felt a woman would be better at raising a girl than I would. I was wrong.” He looked quite annoyed. “She has allowed you to run loose like a gypsy, Marianne. That ends here and now.” He sat down and looked at her seriously. “Lord Travers has asked me for permission to marry you and I have given it. For some reason I cannot understand, he is actually quite taken by you. That means, Marianne, dear,” he said nastily, “that you can say goodbye to the Tremayne boys. As an engaged woman, you will have no time for them.”
“They are my friends!” Marianne cried out in protest. “You can’t forbid me to see them. They’re like brothers to me.”
“You will be far too occupied with your future husband,” Andrew told her, “to play with your childhood companions.”
“I won’t listen to this!” Marianne snapped. She headed for the door. “Where is Aunt Eustacia?
“Your aunt is an old woman who needs her rest,” Andrew replied as he caught her arm and shoved her back into the room. “You will not disturb her.” He frowned as he saw her outraged expression. “Good night, Marianne.”
He left the room and locked the door. He heard the door handle jiggle and then her cry of outrage as she realized he had locked her in. She beat on the door a moment and then ran for the windows. She saw armed men patrolling the grounds and she began to grow frightened. Why was their home an armed camp? Something bad was happening here and she did not like it one bit. She would have been more terrified if she had overheard the conversation now going on between her relatives and Gerard. They were in Eustacia’s sitting room and Andrew was standing at the windows watching his men. Gerard was pouring out some tea for the Baroness and looking like a bludgeon had struck him.
“She is not an idiot, Andrew,” Eustacia argued with him. “You could tell her the truth, you know. This engagement of yours,” she looked briefly at Gerard, “is not a wise idea.”
“She is a child, Eustacia,” Andrew replied. “And she needs to be protected. Gerard is the best man for this task and an engagement explains why he is constantly in her company.” He sighed in frustration. “My father was a sentimental old fool leaving that property to her. It has always been a haven for smugglers and spies and the French obviously think a child of seventeen an easy mark.”
“They wouldn’t think that if they’d been at the tail end of her temper,” Gerard laughed as he set down the teapot. “She’s her mother all over again.”
“She’s a darling girl for all she has a quick temper,” Eustacia defended her charge. She adored her brother’s child and looked on her as her own. “How do you know she wouldn’t have been safer if you had not come here?”
“Because we have it directly from one of our agents in Napoleon’s court,” Andrew told her bluntly, knowing she would accept nothing less than the outright truth, “that the French bastard has issued an order in regards to her and her property. He will have her under French control or in the hands of one of his English agents.” He watched the woman pale. “ Now you take me seriously?”
“You could be a little less heavy-handed with her, Andrew,” Eustacia recommended. “She will rebel against such tactics, just as her mother did.” She saw his frown, so like his sister’s and his niece’s, and shook her head. “Stubborn is a family trait, I see.” She finished her tea and set the cup down. “It is late, gentlemen, and I will retire now. Good night, Andrew. Lord Travers.”
“Good night, Eustacia.”
“Good night, Baroness,” Gerard bowed his head. He went to open the door for his superior officer and friend.
The men headed out of the room and heard a thud from inside the girl’s rooms. Andrew sent Gerard outside as he unlocked the door and he found her leaning out over her balcony reaching for the drainpipe. He yanked her back inside and locked the balcony doors. Then he turned to see something flying at him. He ducked and the vase shattered against the wall. He looked at the shards of porcelain on the floor and shook his head.
“Was that completely necessary, child?” Andrew sighed as he met her mutinous gaze. He was seeing his sister all over again. Everything from the mulish tilt of her chin, the snapping fire in her eyes, and her hands on her hips, was Angharad once again. “You’re not going to let this go until I tell you the truth, are you Marianne?”
“Would you?” Marianne asked him coldly. “If you were in this same situation?”
“No,” Andrew replied. “You are more Macalester than is good for you, child.” He pulled a chair up and sat down. “It is not a pleasant tale, Marianne.” Marianne nodded to him to continue and he was impressed. She was no coward this niece of his. “Very well, Marianne.” She looked up at him shaken but angry as he finished twenty minutes later. “And that is why there are armed men, your stern uncle, and an affianced bodyguard here at Pumphrey Manor until we go to London where you will be safe.”
“But why can’t I see the Tremayne boys while we are here, Uncle?” Marianne asked him a question completely out of left field. “You can’t possibly suspect their family of being French spies, can you?”
“Until I know for certain,” Andrew told her, “I would prefer you be cautious.” He saw that stubborn tilt to her chin. “I will make a compromise with you,” she was all ears. “If you promise me that you will keep Travers at your side, and do not leave the house without telling myself or your aunt where you are going, then you may continue to number them among your friends.”
“I always tell Aunt where I am going,” Marianne assured him. “It is one of her hard and fast rules.” She counted them off on her fingers. “Always tell Aunt where you are going. Always finish any task assigned to you. Always endeavor to look and act like a proper young lady. Never lose your temper with your elders.” She blushed as she met Andrew’s look of amusement. “She meant the Vicar, Uncle. He is always annoying me with some little critique on my appearance or deportment.” She puffed out her chest and pretended to stroke a beard. “Lady Marianne, must you appear in church with your hair ribbons in disarray? Lady Marianne, why can’t you enter a room at a walk?” She giggled and put on a long-suffering look. “Honesty, Lady Marianne; that is hardly a proper thing for a young woman to say, even if it is in flawless Latin. That kind of thing.”
“He has a point,” Andrew laughed; quite delighted with the girl. “You are your mother all over again, girl. We are going to have to come to agreement on matters of importance.” She nodded. “If any of my men tell you to hide, run, or freeze, you are to do it without question. They are here to protect you and they know what they are doing.” She nodded and he ruffled her hair. “Good girl. I’ll introduce you to them in the morning.”


Morning came and Marianne bounced down to the breakfast tale with her hair ribbons rebelling against the braid Estelle had tried to force her unruly hair into. She froze at the threshold of the room as seven men rose to their feet. The bowed to her and she curtsied and made her way to her place at the table. Gerard was there to pull her chair out for her. He was smiling at her in a way that left her feeling quite confused. She looked to her uncle, for the newcomers most assuredly had to belong to him, and he smiled at her.
“Good morning, niece,” he said with amusement in his voice. “I see your hair ribbons are declaring a mutiny already.” He nodded to the men. “I promised to introduce you to some of the men. These are the Sergeants of the five squads: Bradley, Cameron, Moody, Percy and Quinlan. They each have five men under them and will introduce you to them as time permits.”
The five sergeants were as different from each other as it was possible to be. Bradley was a short round man with a round face and ready smile. His dark hair was slicked back and he wore a goatee. His blue eyes sparkled with pleasure at being introduced to her. She liked him immediately. Quinlan was a tall, lanky man with curly red hair and an apparently lazy manner whose deep green eyes watched her like a hawk. He made her very nervous. She felt like he was issuing a challenge and her chin went up. He smiled at her then and the nervousness faded in the sunlight of his smile. Cameron was tall, broad-chested, and built like a barrel. His brown eyes were filled with annoyance at being asked to baby sit a child. She had a feeling he was hiding any regard for her underneath the stiff exterior. Percy was shorter than the lot, and wiry where they were lean; the sandy-haired man seemed to be holding back on his movements as if he would spin off into space if he did not keep a leash on his actions. Moody, blond as a Viking and blue eyed, was equally as tall as Cameron but he was built like a man who had seen hard work his entire life. He was stern and no nonsense but he managed a brief smile for her before he turned to Cameron and said something to him in Gaelic. They looked at her again and they seemed to be sharing a memory as they smiled at her more warmly.
“You look like your mother, lady Marianne,” Cameron said first.
“We hear you have her temper,” Moody laughed. He winked at Andrew. “You’re going to need reinforcements if she takes it into her head to disobey you.”
“We came to an agreement of sorts,” Andrew said as he looked at his niece. She was surprised that these men knew her mother. Andrew looked over at Eustacia. Had the woman told this child nothing? “Didn’t we, Marianne?”
“Of sorts,” Marianne nodded. She finished her breakfast and went to kiss Eustacia’s cheek. “I’ll be back in two hours, Aunt.” She looked at Andrew. She ignored Gerard as he rose with her. “The Tremayne children and I spend the two hours after breakfast each Saturday in the village school, helping the Widow Larchmont with her lesson plans for the week.”
“Don’t be late, Marianne,” Eustacia called after her. “The Duke of Ravenhold is holding a small party to welcome your uncle and his men to the county.”
“Oh Aunt!” Marianne pouted prettily. “I hate his parties. He frowns at everything…”
She saw Eustacia’s look and sighed. “I’m certain Lord Travers will make certain I remember.” She looked at the man in question. “If you’re coming, sir.”
“She’s Angharad all over again, Captain,” Quinlan remarked the moment Marianne and Gerard were gone. “Are you certain twenty-five is enough to keep that one safe?”
Marianne went to the stables and led her mare out to the corral. She had gone into the tack room to get the sugar cubes she always carried for the mare when someone stepped up behind her and put his hand over her mouth. She squeaked in protest and stamped down hard on the person’s foot. She turned to see Samuel behind her, scowling.
“Did you have to stomp so hard, Mari?” he asked in a wounded manner. “You could break a man’s foot doing something like that.”
“Then perhaps next time you will announce yourself to her, boy?” They turned to see Moody standing in the doorway. He looked at Marianne with respect. “Good call, girl. When we have time, your fiancé,” he winked at Gerard, who was out near the corral speaking to Robert; and was delighted when the young man scowled at him darkly, “will have to teach you other maneuvers.” He looked at Samuel in an assessing manner, and liked what he saw. He was not a useless person. “I assume this rapscallion is on the approved visitors’ list?”
“Lord Samuel Tremayne,” Gerard made the introductions; “son of the Duke of Ravenhold. This is Sergeant Moody, a member of Lord Macalester’s regiment.”
“We saw some of them on night patrol,” Samuel nodded, “when we came to check on Marianne.” He saw the men scowl. “We didn’t like the way her uncle was speaking to her at dinner last night, so we decided that we needed to keep an eye on our girl.” He tugged on one of the loose curls around Marianne’s face and Gerard watched her eyes light with happiness. Gerard wanted to strangle the boy. He had no right to such liberties with another man’s fiancé. “We’d better get moving. Widow Larchmont does not appreciate tardiness.”
“Help me saddle Misty then,” she ordered as she found the saddle and blanket and shoved them at the boy. She grabbed the bridle and reins and hurried out.
“Is she always that bossy, boy?” Moody asked as he followed Samuel out. He froze as he saw the duplicate of the boy he was speaking to talking to Gerard.
“Marianne is not bossy, Sergeant; she is insistent,” Stephen replied as he held his hand out and smiled in welcome. “Stephen Tremayne, Sergeant Moody.” He pointed to the other two boys. “That’s Robert, the heir apparent, and our baby brother, Hugh.” He turned to Marianne. “Margaret had to stay home this morning. The Dowager decided out sister needed a lesson in deportment before the party tonight.”
“Better her than me,” Marianne giggled. She checked the saddling job and sighed. “Samuel, you forgot her trick.” She slapped the mare’s side and the saddle started to slip off as the mare became a great deal narrower. Robert caught it as Marianne adjusted the strap. She went up to the front and looked the mare in the eyes. “I’m of a mind to forget your sugar cubes, you daft old thing.” She mounted in a maneuver Moody had seen grown men miss and he got his own mount. They rode off in a cloud of dust and the bemused adults were sore pressed to keep up with them.
Ten minutes later, they rode up to a whitewashed building where a pretty woman with deep brown hair and sparkling blue eyes was stamping her foot and looking very annoyed. The girl and her strange entourage went inside. They introduced Widow Larchmont to the two men and then Gerard and Moody remained in the background watching as the younger people helped the teacher go over her lesson plans. Gerard wondered why the sons of a duke would agree to do such a thing. But then he remembered who the boss was and he smiled. Marianne had taken the pretty widow under her wing, and her ‘troops’ would do whatever they could to help.
“Widow Larchmont?” Hugh frowned and raised his hand.
“Yes, Lord Hugh?”
“This is Henry Atwater, whose lesson plan I’m working on, correct?’
“Yes.”
“Isn’t he the same Henry Atwater,” Marianne smiled as she turned from her own work, “who has been ordered to work in your gardens because he broke your window?”
“That would be he,” Widow Larchmont nodded. The woman turned her attention back to Hugh. “Your point, young one. Time is wasting here.”
“How can he be expected to be three places at the same time, Widow Larchmont?” Hugh asked her. The teacher looked confused. “It’s lambing season, ma’am,” Hugh continued in a manner that told everyone how he felt about people who overlooked such important events. “His father will expect him to be on hand to help. But you expect him to come to a full day’s schooling and work on your gardens?” He thought it over. “May I volunteer a suggestion?” The Widow nodded and Moody was caught by the way her hair glowed in the sunlight. “Mother is always telling us we need to get more involved in the community.” Hugh blushed and bit his lip. “Could I ask his father if I could tutor Henry Atwater?”
“And my garden, Lord Hugh?”
“Our gardener isn’t doing anything,” Samuel spoke up. “He’s always complaining that our sister Margaret is too much underfoot and he has nothing to do.”
“We could ask him if he wouldn’t mind checking out your gardens, ma’am,” Stephen added. “Just as a courtesy.”
Widow Larchmont smiled and Moody was lost. Whatever was said next went completely unheeded as he admired the way she moved, all grace and no wasted motion. He jumped as someone tugged on his sleeve and looked down to see Marianne smiling up at him.
“If you are through ogling the schoolteacher, Sergeant Moody,” she giggled; “I’m ready to go home now.”
“Where are the Tremayne boys off to?” Moody was startled to see he had not noted their departure.
“Robert is off to join his father on a tour of inspection,” Gerard reported as he held his arm out to the girl, “Stephen has gone to speak to the family gardener. Samuel has his Latin lessons with the Vicar, and Hugh is on his way to the Atwater farm to speak to Henry’s father.
“Oh,” Marianne smiled up at him impishly. “Widow Larchmont asked you three times if you would like to come to supper on Thursday, Sergeant. She’s still waiting for an answer.”
“I’ll check the Duty Roster and let you know, ma’am,” Moody smiled at the teacher. He looked at the girl and shook his head. “Twenty five is not nearly enough for you, young lady.” Marianne giggled and they went to get their horses.
She pointed out the different shops and described some of the villagers to them as they walked. The two men were quite impressed by her attention to detail. They were even more bemused by this child of nature they had been asked to protest. Her smile was like sunshine to a flower. They could understand why people liked having her around. And then the smile died and she was practically scowling. They wondered what could have happened to cause such a drastic change in her attitude.
“Lady Marianne!”
“Oh God!” Marianne cried out in mock horror. “It’s the Vicar!” She made a face and then turned with a sweet and innocent smile to face the tall, lean man in clerical collar and plain, clean clothing bearing down on her. He looked as if he wanted to call down lightning from heaven to strike her down. Gerard and Moody exchanged mystified expressions and settled back to listen. “Good morning, Vicar Winfrey. Have you met Lord Travers and Sergeant Moody yet?”
“Lord Travers. Sergeant,” the Vicar nodded stiffly. He turned back to face his target. “You have been conspiring to undermine my authority again, young lady.”
“Whatever do you mean, Vicar?” Marianne asked the man in a voice that could make a man melt. Gerard certainly felt the effects of it and had to steel himself to remember that he was only pretending to be her fiancé. The more time he spent in this irrepressible child’s company, the more he wished it were not a myth. He wanted her in his arms. He wanted to see that glorious mane of hers loose and flowing around her slim and shapely frame again. He shook his head and put his attention back on the conversation.
“Lord Samuel told me,” the gray bearded man frowned, “after much prodding; that you are the person who taught him his new phrase.” The Vicar sighed in exasperation as Marianne nodded solemnly. “I should be thanking you instead of chiding you, my lady, but couldn’t you have taught him something more useful to say? ‘If I have to say this one more time I am going to scream’, though colorful and amusing, is not ever going to be a phrase he will need.” He heard the Sergeant choke and turned to nod to him and a stunned Gerard. “You should see what this little minx can convince those boys to do, gentlemen. They’re a plague of near biblical proportions when the five of them get together.”
“My uncle seems to agree with you, Vicar,” Marianne spoke up. “He has forbidden me to be alone with them from now on. He seems to think they are a bad influence on me.”
“A bad influence on ‘you’?” the Vicar snorted. “I believe I need to speak to your Uncle, young lady.”
“He’ll probably still be here when you and your family come to tea this afternoon, Vicar,” Marianne smiled up at him. She mounted her horse. “I have to go. Aunt Eustacia wanted to discuss something dreary like dancing frocks or tea pots or something.” She looked at Sergeant Moody. “Are you coming, Sergeant?” Then she turned to Gerard. “Lord Travers?”
The Vicar shook his head as he watched the trio ride off. He caught a flash of light and wondered what it could be. But he had lessons to conduct and had no time for mysteries. He did not see the tall, dark-eyed man and his companion as they lowered their spy-glasses and got their horses. They looked like any other couple out for a ride in the country, but their purpose here was much darker.
“They wasted no time getting to the girl,” the dark-haired man frowned. “The English know she has been marked, Marie.”
“Then we shall have to find a way to ingratiate ourselves with her family or her neighbors, Philippe,” the cold-eyed Marie replied. “She is a pretty little girl,” she noted in a manner that would have a lesser man’s skin crawling. Philippe was used to her manner and her appetites by now. “Hardly a threat to our glorious Napoleon! But he has issued his order and we, as his humble servants, must obey.”
“He wishes a foothold on English soil,” Philippe nodded, “and la petite mademoiselle can give him that.”
Marianne dismounted before her mare had come to a full stop and Gerard bit his lip to keep from crying out in warning. She landed on her feet and began to remove saddle, bridle, rein, and blanket as quickly and competently as any cavalry man he had ever seen. The child was quite impressive. Gerard followed her up to the house with a bemused expression on his face and she burst inside with her usual spirit. The joy died as she saw the woman in dark gray standing next to her aunt.
“Aunt, you promised…”
“I seem to recall the other side of our bargain, child,” Eustacia broke in. “No more running barefoot, no more mud baths, and no more disrespecting one’s elders.”
“I never…”
Eustacia sighed and Marianne quieted. She knew that sound well. There was no getting around it now. Her aunt had made up her mind and she was not going to be disobeyed. Gerard was impressed. He was going to have to ask the woman how she managed it. This child was not an easy person to control; he was going to have a hard time keeping her safe. But he had seen enough to know he wanted her in his life for as long as she would allow it. As far as he was concerned, their engagement was no longer a pretense.
“We are honest with one another, are we not?”
“Yes, Aunt,” Marianne sighed. She turned to her governess. “But must we go through those tedious scales again, Madame Bouchard. They give me a headache.”
“Then you can commiserate with those of us who must listen, child,” Madame laughed, “and do them correctly the first time.” She shook her head as Marianne headed to the Music Room. “And do not slouch, Mademoiselle. You will give yourself back problems.”
“What’s going on, Baroness?” Gerard asked the woman as the doors closed behind the pair.
“Voice lessons,” Eustacia told him. “One would think she was being marched to the firing squad, the way she behaves, but she actually adores Madame Bouchard.” She found a seat and picked up her knitting as she listened to the music flowing out through the open door of the Music Room. Gerard’s eyes widened as he heard the girl sing. She was a nightingale! He had never heard a purer tone. “An angel, yes?” Gerard nodded and Eustacia smiled. “Just wait a moment, young lord. The tantrum is about to begin.”
There was a crash of keys and an angry voice. “I am tired of this constant repetition, Madame!” Marianne protested. “Can we not move on to something new?”
“What is it I have told you before, Mademoiselle?”
“Perfection comes through practice,” Marianne sighed wearily. There was silence for a moment and then Marianne giggled. “Madame! You shouldn’t say such things.” There was a spattering of French then and more giggling and Gerard was on his feet. This was not normal! Eustacia stopped him with a shake of her head.
“They are discussing the new necklines on the gowns this season,” Eustacia said calmly. “Madame was complimenting Marianne on her…”
“I know what Madame was complimenting her on, Lady Eustacia,” Gerard choked. How did such an innocent child know about such things? “I have to check in with Lord Andrew,” Gerard decided and hurried away. Eustacia laughed and went back to her knitting. Gerard found the man in the Study going over the Duty Roster with the sergeants. “This is a mad house you’ve brought us to, Avondale,” he said plainly. Andrew looked and waited. Gerard looked at Moody, who was very studiously examining a hunting print on the wall. “Moody needs Thursday night off, if possible. Your niece has arranged a dinner for him with the school teacher.”
“Thursday?” Andrew got the correct page and made the notation. Then he looked at what he’d just written and his head snapped up. He looked at the sergeant, who was glaring at Gerard. “A dinner with the school teacher? Pretty, is she?”
“I quite forgot where I was,” Moody replied honestly, but stiffly; “and what I was there to do at the sight of her, sir.” He shook his head and straightened as he saw Andrew’s amusement. “The Vicar is coming to tea to read you the Riot Act about your incorrigible niece.” Andrew’s amusement died.
“The girl speaks and writes Latin well enough,” Gerard explained, “that she has been teaching the Duke’s sons how to say things that are quite amusingly disrespectful to the poor man. And she speaks French like a native.”
“You managed to find out quite a lot about the girl in one afternoon, gentlemen,” Andrew laughed. “Is there anything else you feel I should know about her?”
“The girl is an instigator, sir,” Moody replied. “She bosses those boys around like she was the Queen herself and they happily do as she wills. She handles a horse better than some cavalry officers and she is having a grand time thumbing her nose at rules while appearing not to break them.” He shook her head. “And despite her impish ways, I quite admire her, sir.” Andrew looked at the man sharply. “Twenty five is not enough.”
“It’s beginning to sound like I should have brought the entire Regiment,” Andrew laughed. “Where is my niece now?”
“Voice lessons with Madame Bouchard,” Gerard said to him. Andrew was intrigued. He nodded and dismissed the men. Then he got to his feet and went to find his niece. He entered the Music Room to see his niece arm in arm with a dark-haired French woman going over fashion plates. “Marianne,” he said sternly. “Is this what you call voice lessons?” The two females looked up and he felt like he’d been pole-axed as he recognized the woman with his niece. “Dominique? I did not know you were acquainted with my niece.”
“I did not know you had a niece,” Dominique Bouchard smiled back at him. “But now I know the relationship it certainly explains her manners.” She saw Marianne looking at them both quite curiously. “Marianne. Your Aunt Eustacia is waiting for you. Run along now.”
“I…” Marianne saw two pairs of eyes turn on her and neither of them was patient. She got to her feet and started to leave. Andrew laid his hand on her arm and she looked up at him. “Yes, Uncle?”
“You will cease your interference in my men’s lives, Marianne,” Andrew said as his eyes remained on Dominique. “They are here to protect you, child; not have dates arranged for them with pretty school teachers.”
“They won’t like me much,” Marianne replied; “if they don’t get time off to have dates with pretty school teachers.”
“I hear the Vicar is coming to tea,” Andrew said as he looked down at her sharply. She actually looked uneasy. “So Moody’s report was correct?” She reddened and looked away from him. “Honestly, Marianne! Your aunt is a gentile woman; how could she have raised such a… a…”
“Imp of Satan?” Marianne supplied. Andrew looked at her in shock. “It is what the Vicar calls me, Uncle.”
She bobbed a quick curtsy as her uncle began to choke and left the room quickly. He watched her go out into the gardens with Eustacia and knew he was seeing Angharad all over again. He could understand now why his father had arranged her quick marriage to the stern-faced second son of the Baron Tregallen now. Like her mother, Marianne would drive any man who had the misfortune to be in her life quietly, and happily, insane. From the look on Gerard’s face as he followed the girl out, Marianna had her victim. He turned as he heard the rustling of skirts behind him. He had forgotten Dominique was there. The woman was smiling happily. Here was another woman designed to drive men mad, he thought as he took her hands in his and kissed her on the cheek.
“I did not realize you would be here, Domi,” Andrew said softly as he found himself lost in her dark eyes. “I thought you were a governess somewhere up north.”
“I am a governess right here,” Dominique told him. “I hear you came here to protect the child,” she laughed; “but after four years of being around your lovely niece, I would say it works the other way round. She is her mother all over again.” Dominique said aloud what he had just been thinking. She laid her hand on his arm. “We all quite adore her, Andrew. She has a way about her…”
“I would just as cheerfully strangle her,” Andrew broke in as he saw her out in the gardens. Marianne was walking the rim of the fountain without her shoes on while Eustacia was tending her roses. Gerard was holding a basket for the woman, but his eyes were on the girl. “She’s going to break her fool neck…”
Dominique saw the direction he was looking and realized what he meant. The high-spirited girl was fearless, but she was also quite clumsy at times. She watched as Marianne glanced up sharply at Gerard’s warning and lost her footing. She went into the fountain and she was laughing as the young man tried to help her up and ended up in the water himself. Marianne didn’t just take after her mother, it appeared. Uncle and niece’s smiles, as Andrew watched Gerard and Marianne help each other up, were near twins of each other.
“Honestly, Marianne,” Eustacia sighed as she looked over at the pair of them. “It’s bad enough you falling in, must you take Lord Travers down with you?” She looked at the watch pinned to her bodice. “Three o’clock! The Vicar and his family are going to be here in half an hour! Go get changed, girl. Wear something…”
“Discreet and maidenly,” Marianne nodded. She giggled. “It won’t matter, Aunt. He’ll know better.”
“Marianne…”
“Very well, Aunt,” Marianne broke into what she knew would be a lecture. “I shall endeavor to be on my best behavior while the Vicar is at tea.” She maintained a serious expression for all of ten seconds before she burst out laughing. She wisely said not a word as he hurried up the stairs along the back of the house and ran along the balcony running its length to her rooms.
“You see what I put up with, Andrew?” Eustacia sighed as Andrew and Dominique joined them and sank down on a nearby bench.
“I see,” Andrew nodded as he looked at Gerard in his wet uniform. “You’ll have to change into something dry yourself, Travers. While you’re doing so, we’ll have a conversation regarding your behavior with my niece. Half an hour, you say?” Eustacia nodded and he kissed her on the cheek. “Murphy!” he bellowed a few moments later for his valet and personal guard as Gerard entered Andrew’s room. “To the ready.” He found the man just coming out of the closet as Gerard continued on through the connecting door to the next room. Murphy, an old gray-haired fellow who had served Andrew’s father as well, nodded and waited for an explanation. “My niece and Travers had a little accident…”
“You don’t have to say another word, sir,” Murphy broke in. “That one would have Saint Peter himself swinging on the gates of heaven. Dress?”
“We’re having the Vicar over for tea,” Andrew told him. “I would dress as any proper man of rank would when such an event occurs. Something that won’t suffer when Marianne spills on it.”
“You’re anticipating her doing something so indelicate, sir?” Murphy sputtered. He was not surprised. Her mother had been just as prone to indelicate behavior as this girl seemed to be. He remembered Lord Macalester, Angharad’s father, bellowing at her like an enraged bull. But for all the bluster, he had adored his only daughter. Everyone had adored Angharad.
“I am going to have to anticipate it,” Andrew sighed. “How did my Father put up with such nonsense with Angharad? Having a child like this would drive me insane.”
“Might explain why he was away so often,” Murphy suggested. He turned before Andrew could ask and pulled out a somber gray suit that matched Andrew’s eyes. “This should suit the occasion, sir.”
He was coming down the stairs with Gerard a half hour later when the Vicar and his equally straight-laced wife and sons came in the front door. The butler took their wraps and guided them into the sitting room. Eustacia and Marianne were already waiting. Andrew saw what Marianne was wearing and he wanted to laugh. She had dressed in one of her old gowns and had fashioned her hair so that she looked like a mere child. But he noted the Vicar’s sons didn’t mind; their eyes were glowing with delight as she greeted them. Their mother, dressed in a simple brown dress with a lace collar, frowned at them in censure. Marianne looked past them and her smile dimmed a bit.
“You have met Lord Travers, Vicar, but have not had the honor of meeting my mother’s brother,” she said a bit tightly. “My uncle, Lord Andrew Macalester, Earl of Avondale,” she held her hand out to him and her joined her. “Uncle, may I introduce you to Vicar Winfrey and his charming family. His wife, Hermione, and their sons, Arthur, Nicholas, and George.”
“It is an honor to meet such an esteemed family,” Andrew bowed over Hermione’s hand and saw her blush like a girl. “Vicar,” he turned to the man. “I hear from my Aide,” he nodded at Gerard, who was eyeing the Vicar’s sons quite coldly, “that you have some concerns regarding my niece’s behavior. We shall have to sit down some time tomorrow and discuss this at length.” He saw Marianne frown and found he quite enjoyed making her uneasy. “For now, I would learn about you and your family.”
Marianne watched the man charm the Vicar and his wife completely. Even the boys, usually her devoted admirers were hanging on his every word. So charm was a family trait, she sighed. She was going to have to be on her toes around her handsome uncle or she might find herself being shipped off to a convent somewhere. They went in to tea and Marianne did manage to spill something, but it was not on Andrew. Her tea landed in the Vicar’s lap and she was flustered as she tried to wipe it off of his coat.
“That is enough, young lady,” Andrew snapped at her. He rang for the Butler. “Dawson, the Vicar has had an accident with the tea. Kindly have Murphy assist him with his garments.” The Vicar dealt with, he turned to his niece. She looked so upset that he almost didn’t have the heart to correct her. But that was his role now, so he rose to his feet and beckoned her to follow him. He didn’t speak as word as she went to sit in the chair by the desk in the Study. He closed the door and turned.
“Uncle, please…”
“There is no excuse you can give,” Andrew said tightly, “that will justify your dumping your tea on the Vicar, Marianne.” She clamped her jaw tight and looked quite prepared to argue with him. “Although I was quite prepared to do it myself when he spoke so thoughtlessly about the French.” She looked at him in shock and then gratitude. “I am going to have to appear to punish you, Marianne. Ready?”
“Do your worst,” Marianne sighed.
“Marianne!” He opened the door and his voice became quite haughty. “No niece of mine should be so clumsy and graceless,” he said loud enough so everyone could hear him. “In the morning, you will go to the Vicar and apologize. You will offer to pay for the cleaning of his garments and ask him to impose a penance on you.” He raised his hand as she started to argue for real and she hung her head. She sat there with her hands folded and looked truly sorry. He was not fooled for even one second; he knew that she would do it again if she had the chance. “Since you do not know how to behave in polite company, you will go to your rooms and remain there the rest of the night.” He said the next bit so only she could hear. “I’ll have Eustacia ask Cook to send some tea and sweets up on a tray after the odious little man has left.” He saw the Vicar coming down the stairs now. “Upstairs, young lady. Now!”
Marianne went upstairs with her head down in shame and the Vicar looked at her in shock. Then he turned to nod approvingly at Andrew. “It was time she had a firm hand in her life. The baroness is far too lenient with the girl.” His frown grew even darker. “Any man who marries her will need the patience of the saints and a whip.”
“Your sons appear quite fond of her,” Andrew suggested, unable to prevent the imp in him from rising. He had the distinct pleasure of seeing the man turn white.
“My sons,” he said after he recovered, “will marry fine, well-mannered young women who know how to behave properly.”
“How boring,” Gerard spoke up from where he stood leaning on the doorframe. The men looked at him for some explanation. “I find my fiancé quite a refreshing change from insipid and useless females.” He looked at Andrew tightly; angry at the way his superior had spoken to the girl. “If you will excuse me, ‘sir’, I will go check on the men before we leave.”
The other men returned to the sitting room to finish their tea and Andrew’s look warned Eustacia not to interfere. The rest of the tea was deadly dull after that. When the Vicar and his family finally left, Andrew looked at his sister-in-law with newfound respect. “How do you stand that man? He is the most officious little toad I have ever met. Imagine him thinking she should be whipped!” He shook his head. “I told Marianne you would intervene with Cook against my wishes and send some tea and sweets up to her.”
Eustacia smiled and nodded. “She is a darling child if a bit quick tempered.”
Andrew nodded absently and went back to his work. He had another hour or two in which he could go over the barony accounts. He had to admit that Eustacia’s man of business knew what he was doing .The barony was a thriving concern. When Eustacia finally died, Marianne, as her only heir, would inherit well over 500,000 pounds in property and coin. Half the ton would be falling at her feet panting after her property; the other half would be falling at her feet in adoration. He was grateful to Gerard for sparing him from that nightmare and chuckled as he remembered how the girl had spilled her tea accidentally, and quite on purpose, on the Vicar’s suit.


Marianne was pacing the floor of her room trying to remain angry at her uncle. He was such a contradiction, she thought. Playing the heavy-handed guardian to the full, he had chastised her so that everyone knew he was not pleased with her manner. The Vicar had left feeling vindicated and Marianne knew that was how Andrew wanted it. She smiled as she saw the remains of the tea that had been delivered to her a half hour ago. The servant was quite full of how her ‘aunt’ had defied her uncle and insisted that Cook send tea up to her rooms. The piece of cobbler was extra large and had an extra helping of ice cream on top. It had been quite delicious and the fact that she did not have to hide her appetite from the Vicar made it doubly enjoyable. He always frowned at seeing her eating as she did. She went out on the balcony and relished the feel of the air on her face.
“You should come in, niece,” Andrew said softly. “My men should not be distracted from their duties by the sight of a pretty girl.”
“I’m not pretty,” Marianne argued as she did as he asked. “I am really quite plain, truth be told.” She went to her mirror and frowned at her reflection. “I should have golden hair that shimmers like sunlight.” She dropped her braid. “Instead I have rust colored hair that refuses to stay put.” She pulled at the ribbons that had managed to work their way completely free in irritation and sat down. “Mama was quite beautiful.”
“Your Mama was too beautiful,” Andrew replied. She looked at him in confusion. “It wasn’t bad enough she could wind every man around her little finger with just a look, as you apparently can,” he looked at her pointedly and saw her blush. “Her beauty kept people so befuddled she could have walked into the Tower and the guards would have handed her the crown jewels happily.”
“You loved my Mama.” Marianne saw it in the fond smile on his face, the way his eyes sparkled when he spoke of her.
“Of course I did,” Andrew looked at her as if she were an idiot for thinking anything differently; “she was my adored baby sister.” He saw the tray. “I see your aunt ‘disobeyed’ my explicit instructions and sent you tea.” He ruffled her hair and went to get it. “I’ll take this down with me. I’m in the mood for another piece of that cobbler.” He paused at the door and smiled back at her. “As to your hair?” Marianne nodded. “It is the loveliest shade of chestnut I have ever seen in my life.” He saw her look of shock and then gratitude. “Be happy with what you’ve been given, Marianne. On you, blonde would be false advertising, you little imp.”
“Thank you, Uncle,” Marianne smiled at him happily and turned back to view herself with less jaundiced eyes.
“Wear something red tonight, Imp,” Andrew smiled back at her. “The platoon will be going in uniform to this little welcome party.” He shook his head as he left her playing with hairstyles and went downstairs. He ran into Dominique as the woman was pouring herself some milk. “Good afternoon, Madame Bouchard.”
“Lord Andrew,” Dominique nodded. “I was just getting some milk,” she held up the pitcher. “Would you care for some?”
“Don’t touch the stuff,” Andrew shuddered. He set the tray down and saw the Cook, a motherly-looking woman with gray hair and deep blue eyes, dressed in a gray dress with a white pinafore apron; looking quite uneasy. “In future,” he couldn’t resist the urge to tweak; “when I send the child up to her room without her tea, she won’t receive any trays in her room, will she?”
“No sir,” the Cook flushed and took the tray away with her even more determined to do whatever she could to circumvent his heavy-handedness.
“It doesn’t suit you, Andrew,” Dominique said softly. Andrew looked at her curiously and she smiled at him and laid her hand on his. “This stern and proper uncle routine? It does not suit you, at all. Anyone with eyes can see that you are amused by your niece’s antics.”
“Then I must work harder at my performance,” Andrew frowned. He got himself another piece of Cook’s excellent cobbler and a fork and sat down. For a few moments they sat in silence as he enjoyed the dessert. “Four years?” Dominique nodded. “However do you stand the girl? I’ve only been here one day and she’s driving me to drink.”
“You’ll get used to her,” Dominique laughed. “Marianne is really quite a sweet girl for all her high spirits. She wouldn’t deliberately hurt anyone, if she had a choice.” Andrew nodded encouragement and Dominique told him everything she had seen and heard since she had taken a position in this household. “And then she told him…”
“I can imagine what she told him” Andrew broke in, a half hour later. He had enjoyed this time. He now knew his little niece quite a deal better, and he had a deep respect for the child. He was even more determined to keep her safe than he had been before. He rose to his feet and took and settled the fork on the empty plate. “Madame Bouchard. This has been quite educational. I shall endeavor to take your insights to heart when I deal with that willful child.” He knew she was listening; he had heard her step on the stairs. “Who is listening to matters that might not concern her.” He sighed as she came out of hiding. “What is it now, Marianne?” He saw her white face and her shivering body and his manner shifted. He made her sit down and sent Madame Bouchard for some brandy. “What is it, child?” he asked more gently as he rubbed her cold hands. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I had the nightmare again,” Marianne told him plainly. “About Mama.” She burst into tears and leaned against him. Madame Bouchard arrived with the brandy and Marianne was made to take a sip. She made a face and set the glass aside. “What horrid stuff! However do people drink such foul-tasting stuff?”
“The nightmare, Marianne,” Andrew prodded gently as he put the glass in her hands and made her take sips of it. “You said ‘again’. You’ve had it before?”
“When I came to live here,” Marianne nodded. “I had it every night for weeks. Aunt Eustacia had the doctor give me sedatives so I could sleep through the night.” She set the cup aside. “I was in my bed, and I woke up in the middle of the night as I heard yelling and crashing things. So I went downstairs and saw Mama throwing things at a man and demanding he leave at once. He – he laughed at her and slapped her across the face. Then he turned and saw me. He said ‘If you won’t see reason, woman; then I shall take your child. She’ll give me what I want’. Mama screamed at him and grabbed the fireplace poker. He caught it and hit her with it and she fell. I remember falling then and I wake up at the foot of the stairs and he is dragging Mama out of the house.”
“That’s enough, Andrew,” Dominique cried as Marianne burst into tears. She pulled the girl to her and stroked her back as Marianne sobbed. “Don’t you see how much this nightmare distresses her?” Marianne quieted and they saw she was asleep. Andrew carried the child upstairs and they left her to nap. Only when they were out in the hall did he saw anything.
“It’s not a nightmare, Domi,” he said simply as he escorted the woman to her room. “It’s a memory.” He quieted for a moment. “Her mother was murdered,” he said finally and saw the look of horror on his friend’s face. “The monster went to great lengths to make it look like she’d gone riding and was injured when she fell. None of us believed it; Angharad was a superb horsewoman.” He looked back towards Marianne’s door. “He is still out there, Domi. If he realizes that the child remembers what actually happened…”
“He will come after her,” Dominique finished. She frowned. “As if this French edict against her is not enough; now we must worry about murderers?”
“Keep her close to you, Dominique,” Andrew asked her. “Make up some excuse that she needs to remain with you when she is not with Gerard. Lessons in deportment,” he smiled briefly, “might not go amiss.” He took her hand in his and placed a kiss at her pulse point. “We’ll be leaving for London in two days’ time. I’d like you to come along as her companion.” Dominique wasn’t fooled; she knew whose ‘companion’ he wanted her to be. “Good night, Madame Bouchard. I have enjoyed our conversation tonight.”
“Lord Andrew,” Dominique nodded and went into her room. She closed the door and leaned against it, shaking in reaction to his kiss. She heard a mocking laugh and looked up to see her brother coming out of the shadows. “Philippe! What are you doing here?”
“I came to see how my darling sister was doing,” Philippe smiled at her. He caught her arm as she turned to run. “Now, Dominique. Is that any way to greet your doting older brother after five years separation? I am not here to hurt you…”
“Your very presence here hurts me, Philippe,” Dominique snapped and pulled free. “I have finally found a place where I am respected and at peace. I will not have you ruining this for me!”
“I would not destroy your illusion of safety for the world, dear sister,” Philippe replied. “I merely wish to spend time with you.” He grabbed her arm as she backed away, shaking her head. “In the morning, you will receive a letter from your dear older brother. He is in town on his honeymoon and wishes to see you. You will be quite overjoyed at the chance of seeing him again.”
“We are leaving for London in two days, Philippe,” Dominique protested. “I don’t have time for your games.” He slapped her and she glared at him as she put her hand to her cheek. “You’re just like Papa. All you know is violence!”
“Then you would be wise not to anger me, Dominique,” Philippe snapped at her. “I might do something foul,” he continued as his eyes went dark and deadly; “such as harm your pretty charge? She is a beautiful child…”
“You will not touch her!” Dominique cried in dismay. She saw him waiting and she hung her head. “Very well, Philippe. I will meet you tomorrow at the Inn.” Her eyes snapped with anger. “And then you go away and never approach me again!”
“That will very much depend,” Philippe laughed as he melted back into the shadows, “on how you respond to my request.”
Philippe D’arboe slipped out of the house and past the guards with the practiced ease of a master spy. He mounted his horse and walked it slowly past the grounds. Only when he was out of hearing did he spur the animal to speed. He arrived back at the Inn and went to his rooms where his confederate was waiting. He did not speak to her for quite some time as she made her pleasure at his successful return quite evident. Afterwards, as they lay entwined together on the bed, did he speak of his mission.
“We will be there tomorrow,” he said simply. “How could her employer refuse to allow my darling sister’s devoted brother and his wife to visit?” He laughed. “If the old biddy is as proper as we have heard, she will offer us a guest room for the duration of our stay in town, yes?” He ran his hand along Marie’s bare arm. “We will have to move fast. We have two days to take the girl before they escort her to London and our chances decrease.”
“You have done well, Philippe,” Marie beamed up at him. “I can see why you were chosen for this assignment.” She pulled his head down and kissed him soundly.


They pulled up to Tremayne Manor and Marianne was impressed with the number of carriages there. Most of the county had been invited to this party, and that meant that people had known Andrew was coming long before she had met him. She stepped out and took a place behind Eustacia and Andrew. She had done as her uncle said and worn a red gown. Among the regimental uniform she almost disappeared, she thought. Andrew had given her a white and gold sash to wear over one shoulder and smiled at her proudly. They entered the ballroom as the orchestra sounded a fanfare and the butler was quite pleased to announce them.
“All attend!” his voice intoned and quieted the room. “Lord Andrew Macalester, Earl of Avondale, and Baroness Tregallen; Lady Marianne Pumphrey and her fiancé, Lord Gerard Travers, Earl of Strathmore, and Members of Macalester’s Regiment.”
There was applause as they swept in and Marianne noted the respect on their faces for her uncle and his men. Obviously the regiment was renowned and she was a bit annoyed that she appeared to be the only person in the room who had never heard of them. Andrew saw Eustacia to a seat and then held his hand out to Marianne as the music started. She curtsied as he bowed and then danced among the others. There was nothing to match him on the floor, and Marianne smiled up at him proudly and happily. This man was her uncle! The dance ended and she went to her aunt. Almost immediately, several young men who had never taken note of her before swarmed around her.
“Damn, Travers,” one man, a lord Walter Thornton, frowned. “You don’t play fair! We none of us had a chance at the girl.”
“And you won’t ever have one,” Gerard said as he laid his hand on her shoulder possessively. “Lady Marianne is taken. You’ll have to find your own ladies.” Marianne looked up at him and saw his proud expression. He was actually pleased at being able to keep the men away from her. He smiled down at her and she blushed. “May I have this dance, my dear?” Marianne went out on the floor with her and he took her in his arms. She blushed at his nearness and felt faint. But then they were dancing and everyone else disappeared. It was only her and this strange man who was pretending to be her fiancé. When the dance was over, he took her out in the gardens for some air and they strolled along the walkways. When they were quite alone, he turned her to face him. “I could truly love you, Marianne Pumphrey.”
Marianne was stunned by his admission. He started to lean down and she knew he was going to kiss her. She had listened to the maids talking about such things but this would be her first kiss and she could not think. His lips were within inches of hers when someone cleared their throat behind them. They turned to see Moody standing there. Gerard backed up a step and offered her his arm. Andrew was scowling as he saw them coming in from the gardens.
“Travers,” he said coldly. “She is still an innocent. I will not have you trifling with her affections. Dance with Sergeant Moody, Marianne.”
“I was not trifling, sir,” Gerard said stiffly. Andrew looked at him sharply and he was nearly quieted. But this was too important. “I may have agreed to a pretense of engagement, Avondale, but I am lost. I am falling in love with your niece.” He saw Andrew’s jaw clench. “If you wish, I will remove myself from this assignment and return to London.”
“That won’t be necessary, Lord Travers,” Eustacia spoke up. She looked at Andrew. “My dear,” she said simply; “I know your mind and I believe you were correct in choosing this young man for her. If Lord Travers wishes to court my niece sincerely I have no objection to it.” Then she turned to Gerard. “But if you do anything to hurt her, young man, Avondale will be the least of your worries.”
Walter watched the girl as she danced with one member of the Regiment after another. They were keeping her close, he noted sourly. Only the Duke’s sons were allowed near her. He knew they had grown up with her, and she considered them brothers, but this did nothing to ease his mounting anger. The girl was meant to be his! He had done everything he could to see that this would happen and he had been blindsided by her uncle and that insufferable Travers. The couple danced by and he scowled darkly. From the way her eyes were shining, she was already half in love with the man. He would have to do something about that.


Madame was distracted, Marianne noted with some concern. It was not like the woman to be so jumpy and unfocused. She had asked her governess several times the next morning if she might be excused and Madame had not answered her. There was a knock at the front door and Marianne was on her feet, running at her normal speed, to answer it. Dawson beat her there and looked at her in feigned annoyance. His twinkling eyes told her differently; he enjoyed their little contest as much as she did. She let him sort the mail and he handed her a letter for Madame. Marianne turned and ran right into Gerard. She looked up at him and he righted her. As he looked at her with something in his expression that left her feeling very confused, he nodded to the letter.
“I believe you were about to deliver that letter?” he said softly. His expression was doing something quite strange to her sense of well-being. She could not take her eyes off of his as his thumb stroked her palm. His words made her blink. “Letter?”
“Oh,” Marianne said softly as she found it hard to tear her eyes away from his. “Yes.” She bobbed as quick curtsy to him. “Excuse me.”
“Madame?” Marianne called out as she took it to Dominique. “There is a letter here for you.” She saw the woman flinch and wondered why the fact a letter was here would make her uneasy. “It’s from the Inn near Dover,” she remarked as she saw the address stamped on the envelope. When Dominique did not respond, Marianne slipped her finger under the flap. “Shall I open it for you?”
“No!” Dominique cried in alarm. She took the letter and smiled at Marianne. “I am sorry for my behavior this morning, child. I have worrying matters on my mind.” She opened the letter and she frowned. She would not lie and pretend she was happy about his intrusion into her life. “It is from my brother, Philippe.” She read the letter and she set it aside. She hated him for doing this to her! “He is here on his honeymoon and wishes to see me.”
“But this is wonderful!” Marianne cried. She pulled Dominique to her feet. “We must speak to Aunt at once, Madame! She will offer your brother and his wife accommodations here at the Manor.”
Dominique found herself being pulled out of the room. She saw Andrew and she dug in her heels to stop her charge. “Marianne, please calm yourself. Ladies do not rush anywhere. We will find your aunt at a more leisurely pace, oui?”
Marianne looked at the woman in confusion and then she saw Andrew turning from the Study door. She hid her smile; so that was the way of things? Madame had a tendre for her uncle Andrew? She wished her well in that endeavor. He was a nice man for all of his stern ways. He could do much worse than Madame as his wife. But then she paused. What if he were already married? Poor Madame would be heartbroken and die from unrequited love. How sad! She decided to leave Madame to speak to Aunt and went to talk to her uncle. He looked up at her as she joined him in the Study and cleared the chair next to the desk as he saw her expression.
“I know nothing about you, Uncle,” she said simply. “Are you married? Do you have children?”
“No,” Andrew shook his head; “to both questions.” He saw the joy blaze into her eyes and knew she was up to something. “No matchmaking. My entire thought must be on keeping you safe.” He sat back as she nodded far too readily. “Who are you thinking the love of my life should be, niece?”
“Madame Bouchard has a tendre for you,” Marianne told him. She watched him choke and wondered why such a suggestion would upset him so. She was completely confused when he started to laugh. “Have I said something amusing, Uncle? She is a very nice woman…”
“You are a treasure, girl,” Andrew broke in as she set her on her feet. “We leave for London the day after tomorrow. Your Aunt Eustacia has decided to accompany us.”
“But she is ill, Uncle,” Marianne protested. “Should she be traveling?”
“You are a good girl for worry about her so,” Andrew smiled and patted her cheek. “She insisted and I hadn’t the heart to refuse. Go to your lessons with Madame now.” He closed the door in her face and smiled. What a curious child. How could she have seen it so clearly? He would have to mention this to Dominique when they were alone later. But if he had been expecting her to be amused, he was disappointed. She was not here with him as she should be. He ran his fingers along her bare arm and looked at her in concern. “Is something troubling you, Domi?”
“Philippe is here,” she said simply and felt him stiffen. “I thought you’d feel that way. He and his confederate will be moving in here later today. The baroness has sent the carriage for them and a guest room is being prepared.” She turned to face him then and he could see her worry. “He is here for the girl, Andrew. I know it.”
“We’ll be able to keep an eye on him if he is here, darling,” Andrew smiled at her in reassurance. “There are enough people around who can run interference if they try anything.” He knew Dominique’s history and he pulled her to him. “He will not hurt anyone while there is anything I can do to prevent it.”
Dominique sighed as he took her lips and forgot about monstrous brothers and irrepressible children for a while. There was only this time and this place and the man she adored in her arms and her heart. She got up with great reluctance an hour later and went downstairs as the front door opened. Her heart turned to ice as Philippe came in with a dark-haired woman on his arm. Dominique bit her lip in distress. How could he bring that whore into this house! She went down to meet him and he kissed her cheek and smiled in amusement as he saw her expression.
“I see you remember Marie, little sister,” he laughed as he brought the woman forward. “She is my wife now,” his voice became quite cold, “so you will treat her as a loving sister.” He heard someone running and looked up to see a pretty child at the top of the stairs. “Your charge?” Dominique nodded and his smile was quite warm. “She is adorable, Dominique.”
“The men who frequent Madame Sophie’s establishment would pay double for her,” Marie said softly; her threat quite intended. She saw Dominique pale. “We have no intention of harming her, dear sister,” she laughed and kissed the silent and fuming woman on the cheek. She turned as Marianne came down the stairs at a more sedate pace. “I see you have been teaching her manners, Dominique.”
Marianne approached the couple and wondered why Madame did not look happier to see her brother. She looked at the pair and saw the handsome man; too full of himself, and the pretty woman; far too common, and guessed it was the woman. Dominique did not approve of her new sister-in-law. Marianne could not blame her, the man and woman both made her skin crawl. But she remembered her manners and pasted a smile on her face.
“Madame,” she said as he looked at her governess; “might I be introduced?”
“Lady Marianne Pumphrey,” Dominique said with great reluctance, “allow me to present to you my brother, Philippe D’arboe and his wife, Marie. They are here on honeymoon.”
“How nice,” Marianne said, feigning delight. She turned to see Dawson standing by. “Dawson will see you to your room. I leave you to settle in,” she continued as she linked arms with Dominique, “while Madame and I have our lesson.” She took Dominique into the Music Room and closed the door. When she turned, she was very angry. “I do not approve of that pair one bit, Madame. They are not nice people.”
“On that, ma petite,” Dominique said sadly, “we are quite agreed.” She nodded to the piano. “Why don’t you entertain us with your favorite sonata.”
“While we plot how to make them so miserable,” Marianne grinned as she sat down on the bench, “that they run screaming into the night and never bother you again?”
“Lady Marianne!”
“I don’t like them, Madame,” Marianne repeated as she launched into the piano piece. The playful tune did not match the mood in the room one bit. She jumped as someone knocked on the door. Madame opened it to admit Andrew and Gerard. He was not at all pleased and she knew he had heard about the guests. “Have you met Monsieur D’arboe and his wife, Uncle?”
“Unfortunately,” Andrew snapped. “You are not to encourage familiarity with that pair. They are far too common to be born by people of polite society.” He looked at Dominique. “I realize they are your family, Madame, but I am adamant on this point. I will not have my niece sullied by association.” He smiled as Gerard held a hand out to Marianne. “The platoon is in need of some drill, Marianne. You will join Gerard as he puts them through their paces.”
Marianne nodded and left the house to the haunting refrain of a sonata Madame chose. She had to do something to help the woman. Gerard looked down at her and saw a familiar expression. She was plotting something. He turned her eyes to his as they approached the stables where his men were waiting.
“I should tell you to stay out of it, Marianne,” he smiled at her fondly; “but in this matter I am in complete agreement with you. The sooner that pair is out of here, the better.” Then he stepped with her into the shadows of the trees and kissed her gently. “I have been wanting to do that all morning,” he sighed as he pulled away. He saw the stars in her eyes and knew she had felt it, too. “Shall we put the men through their paces, my dear?”
“You confuse me, Lord Gerard,” Marianne said as she took his arm. “Aren’t you only supposed to be pretending to be my fiancé?”
“Sweet lady,” Gerard smiled down at her gently. “I may have come here with that intention, but I knew I wanted you the moment I saw you on the road that first day.” He saw her shock and he was stricken. He had meant to be gentler about his admission. “If you could not see yourself accepting me, my lady Marianne, I will return to politeness…”
“No,” Marianne broke in, her heart pounding away in delight. “I would be quite happy to allow you to court me sincerely, Lord…”
“You may call me Gerard, my dear,” Gerard smiled at her in amusement. “We are to be wed, after all.” He saw a brief moment of uncertainty. “I have already told your aunt and uncle about this, Marianne; they have given me their blessing.” He heard galloping and turned to see the platoon gathering on the field. “Shall we review the troops, my lady?”
Marianne nodded and they went to the stables where their horses were already saddled. They rode down to the fields and sat hand in hand as they watched the men maneuver their horses in and out in confusing patterns. She had never seen anything more interesting in her life. She asked if she might be allowed to join and the men looked to their Lieutenant in shock. He was in a mood to humor his lady, however; so he told them to guide her through one of the basic patterns and sat back to watch as her eyes shone with delight and her laughter as she executed the moves floated on the air. When it was over, Gerard rode down to the village with her so she could make her apology. He saw by her frown that she had hoped her uncle had forgotten.
“I know he is an officious little prig, my lady,” Gerard said as he helped her down. He did not want to let her go, he found himself thinking as their eyes met and held. He finally set her down. “But you are of a rank where the way you treat people is noted. Every person, no matter how offensive, should be treated politely.”
“Yes, Gerard,” Marianne bowed her head. She saw the door open and the Vicar stepped out. “Vicar,” she said softly, a look of intense regret on her face, “I must apologize for my clumsiness at tea yesterday. If I may offer to pay the cleaning bill?” He shook his head. “Then perhaps there is some penance I could perform?”
“I am certain you have your time filled with lessons and public service, Lady Marianne,” the Vicar smiled at the child. He really did adore her and the suit was only fabric. “I accept your pretty apology.” He nodded to Gerard a moment and then looked back at the girl. “I hear that Clarice has just received a shipment of hair ribbons that are guaranteed to stay where they are put.” He saw her blush. “Run along, child. I am certain you would like to introduce your fiancé around the village.”
Marianne strolled off on Gerard’s arm and entered the dress shop. Clarice was just putting out the ribbons and she smiled as Marianne entered. “There she is!” the woman beamed. “The lady whose lovely hair no ribbon can tame.” She took the liberty of pulling the one struggling for freedom out and made Marianne sit down so she could redo her hair. She nodded towards the man standing nearby to draw the girl’s attention elsewhere as she applied the drug. “Watch dog, my lady?”
“My fiancé,” Marianne told her and watched the woman flinch. She nodded. “My uncle decided it was time I married and Lord Travers is his choice.” She smiled as she saw what Clarice had done. “I wish you could teach Estelle how to do this!” She got up and thanked the woman. “Thank you, Clarice. I am quite grateful.” She turned as the door opened and frowned as she saw Philippe and his wife. “Monsieur D’arboe. Madame.”
“Lady Marianne,” the man bowed his head to her as his wife moved around the displays. “You are looking very fetching this morning.”
“We have an appointment with your aunt, Marianne,” Gerard said stiffly as he held his arm out to her. This man made his blood boil, the way he was eyeing the girl. Well she belonged to him, his eyes told Philippe, and he would kill to protect her. He was gratified to see the fiend back up a step.
“Thank you for your assistance, Clarice,” Marianne smiled as she took Gerard’s arm. “Good morning, Monsieur. Madame.”
The couple waited until the door had closed behind Marianne and then they turned to Clarice. The woman’s smile had completely vanished. She took them in back where she had their orders waiting. Philippe read them through and nodded. He handed them over to Marie and saw her slow smile.
“You may assure him that we will follow his orders with great pleasure,” Marie spoke first. “She trusts you, Clarice, so we shall take her from your establishment.” She took a vial out of her reticule and handed it over. “Three drops in water or tea will suffice. The girl will be quite helpless to resist when we remove her from her guardian and his men.”
“Wait a day,” Philippe told her, “and then send her word that you have something pretty you think she would like. Young girls cannot resist pretty things.”
Marianne bristled at hearing this. Gerard and she had doubled back after leaving and found a place to hide and listen. So he thought her some dim-witted simpleton who could be enticed with pretty things, did he? Well she was going to show him! She left the shop to the sound of their pleased laughter and they returned to Moody, who was speaking to Widow Larchmont. She suddenly felt like her head was splitting and she asked to be taken back to the Manor. Gerard looked at her worriedly as the ride home was silent. That was not like her. She had been upset by what she had heard.
“I know what we overheard upset you, Marianne,” he said as he followed her to her rooms. He saw Estelle sitting in the corner keeping a very close eye on him. “Is there anything I can get for you?”
“No, Gerard,” Marianne answered him truthfully. “I am just tired.” She removed her riding jacket and sat down to pull off her boots. “I think I will take a nap.” He kissed her on the forehead and left her alone. She lay down and when she woke, Madame Bouchard was sitting in a chair by the window, reading. “Madame, is something wrong?”
“I am in hiding,” Dominique told her bluntly. “I do not wish to spend any more time with that woman than I have to.” She set the book down. “Your fiancé was worried. He asked me to look in on you.” She frowned as she saw the girl’s pale face. “Are you quite well? You are looking very pale.”
“I was starting to get a headache as we left the village,” Marianne told her friend. “I was upset about something,” she said softly, her eyes showing her confusion, “but I cannot remember what it was.” She shrugged. “If it were important, I would remember, wouldn’t I?” She looked at the clock on her mantle piece. “It’s almost time for dinner? My nap was longer than I thought.”
“Your aunt didn’t see any point in waking you for tea,” Dominique said softly. She did not like the way the child was looking and acting. It was as if she had been drugged. She felt her blood run cold. “Marianne, child,” the girl looked at her. “Where did you go when you were in the village today? Whom did you speak to?”
“Uncle had Lord Travers escort me to the village so that I could apologize to the Vicar,” Marianne replied, making a face that showed how much she had disliked that particular event. “He gave me a lecture about my behavior,” she continued, “and then…” She frowned as she tried to remember where she had gone then. “We came back home.” She saw Dominique’s worry. “Is it important?”
“Not especially,” Dominique replied. Philippe had mentioned speaking to the girl in the village at tea. She was quite angry now. He had drugged the child right under Gerard’s nose! So Marianne had probably seen or heard something Philippe did not want made known to others. The door opened and Estelle came in. “I will leave you to dress for dinner.” She left the room and went to the guest room. Philippe looked up as she closed and locked the door. “What did you do to that child, Philippe?”
“I have no idea what you are talking about, sister,” Philippe said stiffly as he finished tying his cravat. “I would never harm that delightful child.”
“Then why doesn’t she remember seeing you in the village?” Dominique demanded. “She came home and slept for several hours before she woke. She has no memory of your meeting or the time she spent in the dressmaker’s shop.” Her eyes narrowed. “So I ask again, brother. What did you give her?”
“We did not give the child anything, Dominique,” Marie spoke up from where she was finishing her hair. She turned and looked at her sister-in-law studiously. “You are very attached to your young charge, dear.” Her eyes narrowed. “What would you do to keep her safe, darling?” She pounced and Dominique found herself on her knees with the woman’s hand at her throat. “Would you come back to my collar, sweet, to keep that lovely child from falling into our hands?”
“Take your filthy hands off of me, Marie!” Dominique spat and slapped the woman across the face. She got on her feet and backed away, shaking in disgust. “If you touch that child, I will kill you!”
“She’ll come to heel quite nicely,” Marie laughed as the door slammed behind Dominique. “She will do whatever we ask of her to keep the child unspoiled.” She was quite pleased. “Your sister will become our slave while we wait for our employer to arrive and take the girl to hand. The threat of harm will keep them both in line.”
They went down to dinner and it was a silent affair. No one seemed inclined to speak. When it was time for after-dinner entertainments and drinks, Marianne begged off; claiming headache and the others drifted to their rooms without complaint. Andrew walked out into the gardens and found Dominique in the summerhouse, her lovely face stained with tears. He pulled her into his arms and held her as she sobbed. Their interlude was interrupted as Marianne’s screams rent the air. They entered her room to find Eustacia consoling the poor girl as Estelle prepared a sedative.
“The nightmare?”
“It’s altered this time,” Eustacia frowned as she made Marianne take the sedative and settled her down. She left Estelle to watch over the girl and took the couple out. “This time, she is the one being threatened and beaten.” She took them to her room and sat down. “I don’t like this, Andrew. Something bad is going to happen to my girl and I will not stand for it!” She took out her hairpins and went to comb her hair out. “I want that couple out of this house in the morning. They have a very unsettling effect on my household.” She looked at Dominique. “I just cannot imagine a lovely creature like you being related to that beast!”
“I only have my father’s word for it that I share blood with him, my lady,” Dominique said softly. She went to the windows and looked out, wondering why the sight of the men did not reassure her. “He is planning something. I know it.”
“Then we will be on hand to see his plan does not succeed,” Eustacia assured her. “That is why you are all here, after all.” She smiled as Dominique looked at her in shock. “You all seem to think I am oblivious to the threats swirling around my pretty niece,” she laughed at them. Her eyes narrowed and she looked quite shrewd. “I was the one who contacted Andrew’s superior and asked for his assistance. Lord Pertwee and I are very old friends.” She waved them off. “Go to your bed, you two. I am tired and need my sleep.”
“She is one intriguing woman,” Andrew laughed softly as they made their good nights and went to Dominique’s door. “Good night, Madame Bouchard.”
“Good night, Lord Andrew,” Dominique said softly and stepped into her room with regret. She needed him so badly she was shaking. One more day, she reminded herself, and then they could be together.


Marianne still had a headache when she woke and she was quiet enough to worry her family. They could see she was not feeling at all well, but the trip to London could not wait. Marianne helped her aunt Eustacia into the carriage and took as seat across from her. This was the first time she had left Pumphrey Manor since she had come to live with her aunt and she was excited and terrified. London was a big city, and she would be quite out of place there. Eustacia and Dominique were coming with her, however; so it was not as bad as it might be.
“Are we going to be in London long, Uncle?” Marianne asked, as he made certain all of the ladies were comfortable.
“Yes,” Andrew nodded. He saw her confusion. “Until we end this threat against you, niece.” He mounted his horse and joined the rest of his men. Marianne sank down and accepted the book Dominique handed to her.
“I don’t think Uncle would approve of the reading material,” Marianne laughed as she saw the fashion plates. She set it down on the seat next to her and looked at her companion. “How do you know my uncle, Madame?”
“He saved my life,” Dominique told her bluntly. She saw that she had the girl’s full attention. “That is enough. It is not something I wish to discuss with an impressionable young child.” Marianne saw that Eustacia was in full agreement with this decision. “We will practice our French if you are not up for reading.”
The journey to London took several hours and Marianne did not argue when Dominique suggested she take a nap before dinner. They were staying in the Macalester town home and she was quite pleasantly surprised at the comfortable furnishings. This was a place a family lived in, the place declared. Even the butler, Jemison, was smiling as he admitted them. Marianne woke up and Estelle helped her dress for dinner. Andrew had told her they were having company and she took great pains to dress properly so that she would not embarrass him. The tall silver-haired man who rose to his feet as she joined them in the sitting room smiled warmly and kissed her hand. She was instantly enchanted with him.
“Andrew,” the lord Anthony Pertwee Duke of Marshwood smiled as he turned to Andrew; “she is your sister all over again. Every fortune hunter in England will be after her.”
“They will have to go through me, sir,” Gerard said as he walked into the room just then. He claimed Marianne’s hand and lingered over it a moment longer then was strictly necessary. “Are you feeling better after your nap, my dear?”
“Yes, thank you, Gerard,” Marianne nodded, caught once more by the warmth in his eyes, the gentle smile on his lips. The other people in the room disappeared and there was only the two of them. She came back as she heard something fall and hit the floor. Andrew bent down to pick up the book Eustacia had ‘accidentally’ knocked off the table.
“Lord Anthony is my superior officer, Marianne,” Andrew explained to her. “He works in the War Office.” His words reminded her of the threat against her and she shivered. “He is also a very dear friend of your aunt Eustacia.”
“Nearly married her,” Anthony nodded as Marianne looked at her aunt in surprise. “But she wouldn’t hear of it. She said her duty lay at Pumphrey Manor with her family.” He saw her confusion. “You didn’t know this, child?”
“I saw no point in boring the child with my past, Anthony,” Eustacia said stiffly. “She knows all she needs to know.”
“Aunt Eustacia is my father’s older sister and he allowed her to run the estate so he and Mama were free to travel.” She sat down next to him, her eyes glowing. “You must tell me everything!” She was fascinated as he described how he had met, and fallen instantly in love with, the pretty Eustacia Pumphrey.
“Her father died just after I asked for her hand and she ended our engagement.” He shook his head. “She threw herself into the estate business and I was left heartbroken…”
“As I recall, Marshwood,” Eustacia spoke up, her voice laced with affection for her former beau and lifelong friend, “you were hooked six months later by the very delightful Veronica Dandridge.” She looked at Marianne. “He is the proud father of three sons and four daughters.” She saw Jemison at the door and Gerard came over to offer his arm to his fiancé. “Come along now. Dinner is ready.”
Marianne sat at dinner and listened to the men and women discuss the situation facing her as if it was not the life-threatening matter she believed it to be. She was distracted as Gerard took her hand under the table and rubbed her palm with his thumb. She blushed as Andrew looked at them sternly and pulled her hand away. Now that he was no longer a ‘pretend’ fiancé, Gerard was taking liberties with her that she was not at all certain she should allow. She would talk to Dominique about it later in their rooms. She caught the look that her companion sent towards Andrew and smiled.
“So, Madame Bouchard,” Anthony smiled at Dominique suddenly. “When is the happy day?” She looked at him in confusion. “Your wedding, my dear?”
“Madame?” Marianne choked out. She looked at the others and saw their expressions. Then she squealed in joy and went to throw her arms around Dominique’s neck. “You will be my aunt! I shall have to stop calling you Madame now.”
“Not until after the wedding,” Andrew said stiffly. “In private, you may call her Domi now.”
“I know how to behave, Uncle!” Marianne frowned.
“Tell that to Vicar Winfrey,” Andrew laughed. He turned to Anthony and told him about the ‘tea’ incident and the Latin lessons. “If I needed any further proof that she had taken after my sister, that did it.” He ruffled Marianne’s hair as he rose. “We men will retire to the den with our drinks and leave you ladies to discuss wedding gowns and such.”
“Madame,” Marianne laughed as she hugged the woman again. “I am so very happy for you! We shall have to go at once to the dressmaker and have them start making your gown!” She helped Eustacia to her feet and Dominique and she took her aunt upstairs with them. She found the fashion plate book. “I saw a dress in here that would be perfect for you!”
The men watched the women going up the stairs and they all smiled. Marianne was a force of nature, they were all thinking. She would take what life handed her and deal with it. But they were determined that she not have to deal with a certain matter, if they could do anything to prevent it. Andrew accepted the whiskey Jemison poured for him and nodded his thanks. He took a sip and set it down.
“Are they certain about this, Anthony?” Andrew asked as he saw Gerard standing at the windows, scowling. “Well?”
“We have gained onlookers,” Gerard nodded confirmation. He turned back towards the conversation. “I do not like this. D’arboe could not possibly think to move on her here.”
“They are desperate,” Anthony told the younger man. “That property would give them a crucial foothold on English soil. Napoleon is adamant that it be in French hands by the end of the month.” He looked at Gerard. “Marry her now, boy. That would put an end to their plots…”
“I am not marrying her for political reasons,” Gerard broke in. He looked aghast as he realized he had just snapped at his superior. “I apologize, sir. It’s just that…”
“You’re in love with the girl,” Anthony nodded, “and want her believing your intentions are sincere and not motivated by political concerns.” He smiled as he saw the man’s shocked expression. “I don’t blame you, Gerard. She is a beautiful girl and enough like her father and aunt that lying to her would alienate her from you.” He looked over at Andrew. “Their marriage would certainly solve things for us.”
“Strathmore could certainly supply enough resources to see that property secured,” Andrew nodded. “I certainly have no objection to it, sir.”
“Then you will marry the girl, Gerard,” Anthony told the young man. “Do whatever you must to get her to agree.”
Marianne had come down to get some water and heard their voices drifting out of the den. They had been in there for quite some time. Whatever could they be talking about? She went into the Library next door and opened the door a crack so that she could hear. She had arrived just as Anthony was begun talking about how a marriage between her and Gerard would solve their problems. She was outraged. He could not seriously think she would agree to a marriage merely to make this problem with Napoleon go away? When she married, she wanted the church and all the trappings, not a quick trip to the Registrar’s Office.
“Very well, sir,” Gerard said to his superior. “I will do my utmost to get the lady Marianne to agree to a speedy union.”
“He is quite angry at us,” Anthony sighed as Gerard stormed out of the den.
“We are asking him to do something he does not wish to do, Anthony,” Andrew replied. “He’s in love with my niece, Anthony, and he wants to do it up proper for her.” He finished his drink and looked at the clock. “It’s growing late. Won’t your brood be waiting to be tucked in for the night?”
“Veronica and our children are at her family’s estate in Surrey,” Anthony replied. He got to his feet and caught a flash of skirt at the library door. He frowned as he realized the girl had overheard their conversation. He kept this to himself. It would do Gerard good to have to fight for something he wanted for once. “I’ll see you at the Office in the morning, then?”
“Yes, sir,” Andrew nodded. He saw the man to the door and turned to see Marianne going into the kitchen. He walked in to see her and Dominique deep in conversation. “It’s a bit late for you to be up, isn’t it?” Marianne glared at him, kissed Dominique on the cheek, and fled from the kitchen. “Is something wrong?”
“She heard you, Andrew,” Dominique sighed. “She was on her way past the den when she heard Lord Anthony telling Gerard he had to marry her at once.” She looked at Andrew harshly. “How do you think she took it?”
“Gerard is in for a fight,” Andrew laughed. He saw the censure on her face. “He needs to learn not everything in life will be handed to him, my dear. I have a feeling he’ll rise to the occasion. He loves her…” He saw the shock on Dominique’s face. “You didn’t know?” He laughed at that. “It’s usually the women who see the truth.” He sobered as she glared at him. “Gerard loves her, Domi. He will do whatever he must to prove he is sincere in his affections for her.”
“I don’t envy him the fight she’ll give him,” Dominique laughed. She brought his hand to her cheek. “Shall we make it harder for him?” Andrew shook his head. “You’re right. She’ll make it hard enough for him as it is.”


The next morning Marianne accompanied Dominique to the dressmakers that her aunt Eustacia had told her would handle her. She was tired after a night of tossing and turning. She had been unable to forget the anger in Gerard’s voice when he had been told he had to marry her. Did she disgust him that much? She had begun to think he was fond of her but his behavior last night had ended that little fantasy. She had to remind herself, for the hundredth time since last night, that he was merely here to play a role. At breakfast, she had been told that the marriage would take place as soon as a special license could be provided. Unlike Dominique, she would be married without fanfare, in the town home of her uncle by a judge.
“You will make me the envy of every other dressmaker in London, my lady Pumphrey,” the woman assured her as her assistants took measurements. “Never have I seen such exquisite coloring and delicate features.” Marianne shook her head and laughed. So many people were so determined to lie to her. She was passably pretty, perhaps, but nothing special. She thought of Gerard then, the man who held her heart, the man who had made her feel like she was beautiful, and she sobbed. “Have I said something wrong, my lady?”
“No,” Dominique shook her head as she took Marianne into her arms. “My fiancé’s niece is overly emotional right now. She is soon to be married herself and is overwhelmed at the thought of being a wife.” She patted Marianne’s hand. “Her wedding…”
“Wedding?” a cold voice cut through the emotion. They looked towards the door to see Gloriana Thornton, who was the very type of woman Marianne had always compared herself to unfavorably all blond and delicate like a doll; standing there with her mother. “Well, well,” she said snidely, her eyes narrowed as she looked at Marianne; “that is fast work! You’ve only known the man a week or two.”
Marianne looked at the blond, blue-eyed woman in confusion. Why was she so nasty? Marianne did not even know her, so how could she have done anything to warrant such an attack. Glorianna caught the look on Dominique’s face and kept her cattiness at a minimum.
“I hear you are to be congratulated, Madame Bouchard.”
“If you meant it, Lady Gloriana,” Dominique nodded stiffly, “I would be very happy.” She turned away from the woman and looked through the book of fashion plates with the dressmaker and Marianne. “I like this one,” she said as she saw the simple gown with the ivory rosebuds at the neckline. “It suits me.”
“You are quite correct, Madame,” the woman smiled. She turned towards Marianne. “And jewel tones for your attendant’s gown, young lady; no insipid pastels.” She heard a sniff and realized that Gloriana was dressed in just such a color. “They look quite nice on some women, but your coloring and personality needs something more vibrant.” She frowned as she heard Gloriana and her mother both stamping their feet. “Chantal! Attend lady Thornton and her daughter! I need to concentrate on this consultation.”
The next hour passed quite pleasantly and the party moved on to the hats and other accoutrements. Andrew found them at a teashop down the lane from the salon and he was looking very worried. He did not speak of his worries, however; and both women left it alone.
They told him about their day and he frowned as he heard about the Thornton girl. What an unbelievably nasty woman she was becoming, he thought uncharitably. But remembering her mother, he knew she really had not had the opportunity to become anything else.
“She needs a man of her own,” Dominique sniffed. “Unfortunately, she thought she had her claws in our Gerard.”
“Gerard and that – that woman,” Marianne was shocked. “No,” she shook her head as she thought about her. “He would be bored with her pettiness in a week.” She saw him coming down the street now and she could not keep herself from blushing. She rose to her feet and turned away. “I think it’s time I returned home now…”
“Then by all means,” Gerard smiled as he caught her before she could flee; “allow me to escort you, by way of St Peter’s.” He nodded to Andrew and Dominique. “If you would care to join us?”
“Of course,” Andrew nodded. “Dominique and I have an appointment at St. Peter’s with the pastor.” He raised Dominique’s hand to his lips. “We are going to choose our wedding date.”
Marianne smiled and was completely oblivious to what they were planning. They entered the pretty church and Dominique took her to a room by the altar. Margaret Tremayne and Eustacia were there. Estelle was holding a white satin gown in her arms and a veil. Marianne looked at them in shock. They couldn’t possibly be expecting her to go through with this insanity, could they?
Please don’t make me do this, Aunt,” Marianne protested as Estelle and Dominique started to undress her. “It’s not right!”
“Marriage to Lord Gerard will keep you safe,” Eustacia said from where she sat watching. “And he is fond of you…”
“No,” Marianne shook her head. “He is not! He is only marrying me because he was ordered to do so. He doesn’t care for me at all.” She burst into tears and ran blindly out the side door and directly into someone. She looked up to see Walter Thornton standing there. “Oh dear!” she blushed and backed up a step. “I am sorry, Lord Walter…”
“I’m not,” Walter smiled down at her nastily. “I have been hoping to have a little conversation with you, Lady Marianne.” He grabbed her wrist and yanked her towards a waiting carriage. “Come along.”
“No,” Marianne shook her head and tried to pull free of his hold on her wrist. “Let me go, Lord Walter! You have no right…”
“Take your hands off of my fiancé, Lord Walter,” Gerard hissed at him from behind. Walter turned to see the entire regiment behind his competition. He let Marianne go and bowed mockingly as the girl ran to Gerard sobbing.
“I didn’t think it was right for her to marry,” Walter laughed as he backed towards his carriage; “without knowing there were other options available.” The look he shot Marianne as he got in his carriage warned her he was not done with her yet.
“Did he hurt you, Marianne?” Gerard cried as he looked into her face. He saw fear fading and anger mounting and he smiled and kissed her gently on the forehead. “We were about to do something before that fiend interrupted…”
“Yes, Gerard,” Marianne sobbed and tightened her hold on him. “I will marry you.” He took her back to the ladies in the church and she tried to be happy. But she was worried. Yes, she was marrying the man of her heart, but the threat that had seemed so innocuous before had suddenly become quite real. Gerard was making himself a target by making this decision, Marianne realized; and she did not want to lose him.
The reception was held at the Travers town home. Gerard took great pride in showing her around the residence. The servants were all quite pleased to meet her and she wondered if he had been telling them about her. Estelle was still with her, of course; but her greatest joy came when Gerard informed her that Eustacia would be coming to live with them at the end of their honeymoon.
“Three months should be long enough,” Gerard smiled down at her as he carried her upstairs once all the guests were gone; “don’t you agree?”


For the next three months Marianne and Gerard remained in the town home alone with their servants. Visitors were politely but firmly turned away and life was peaceful. Aunt Eustacia was settled into an apartment after that and Marianne was content. So she knew that life was about to change for them again when Gerard came into their home with a dark look on his face. He had gone to the War Office at Lord Pertwee’s request and it was obvious he had not liked what he had been told. He entered the sitting room where Marianne and Eustacia were doing their embroidery and kissed them both on the cheek.
“The news is bad, my dear?” Marianne asked as he had a servant bring him some whiskey. Gerard nodded and she took his hand in hers. He saw a shy smile on her face and wondered at it. “The doctor was here today,” she said simply. He looked at Eustacia in concern and the two women laughed.
“I am fine, dear boy,” Eustacia told her confused nephew-in-law. “Marianne…”
Gerard was at her side instantly, his hands on either side of her dear face. His worry was plain as he waited to hear the news. She had been sick with the flu for nearly the past two months and he was afraid. He did not want to lose her now, not when he had gone through so much to make her his wife. So he was not expecting what she told him.
“He told me that I was not suffering from the flu, as we had thought.” Marianne waited for him to guess and sighed when he proved obtuse. “We are going to have a child, Gerard.”
“Pregnant?” Gerard choked. He looked at her, then at Eustacia in shock. Then he picked Marianne up in his arms and danced. “My lady! Your news has driven all other concerns from my mind.” His eyes drank in the sight of her lovely face. “How far along are you?”
“Three months,” Marianne told him, blushing as she thought of it. The very first night they had been together as man and wife had born fruit. She laughed at the look of shock on his face. “You look stunned, my love. Surely you knew it could be possible?” He nodded slowly as he got himself another drink. “Uncle Andrew and Aunt Dominique are coming to tea. I thought we could share our good news with them.”
“If it is a girl,” Gerard smiled as he kissed her warmly, “she will be called Eustacia Angharad Travers.” He saw the older woman blush. “After my beloved wife’s two mothers,” he explained his decision to her. Eustacia blushed like a young girl as he kissed her on the cheek. He sank down next to his wife and held her hand as his mind spun. “We shall have to find a nurse for you, Marianne; someone who understands about such things…”
“I am certain Aunt’s nurse understands these things,” Marianne laughed at him. He looked hurt. “I am pregnant, you darling idiot, not ill. I will be just fine.” She got to her feet and Gerard was at her side, helping her. She shook her head at him. “I am fine, Gerard,” she repeated firmly. “I am just going to go speak to Cook about tea. We’ll want something extra special today.”
“You can entertain me while she is gone, Gerard,” Eustacia said to her nephew-in-law. Once the door closed behind Marianne, her smile died. “He isn’t giving up, is he?” Gerard shook his head. “So this marriage has just made a target of you, boy.” She shook her head. “I am glad you married her, but it would break her heart if anything happened to you.”
“Nothing is going to happen to me, dear aunt Eustacia,” Gerard told her. “We shall be leaving for Strathmore in two months,” he continued as he made a decision. “I want our child born at our family seat. You will come with us?”
“Of course I will, idiot,” Eustacia smiled back at him. “You could not keep me away from my darling niece now.” She laid her hand on his. “Don’t worry. I will not tell her.” He kissed her on the cheek. “It is your place to do so.” He looked at her worriedly. “Surely she has proven herself capable of handling the truth, Gerard?” He nodded. “Then I know you will do the correct and proper thing and tell her.”
The butler, Lawrence, came to announce the arrival of the visitors and Gerard went to greet them. Tea had been set up on the terrace in back overlooking the gardens. Andrew could tell from the fidgeting of the couple that they had news to share, but he did not push. Gerard finally broke down and told them. Dominique embraced her husband’s niece and kissed Gerard on the cheek, smiling. When Gerard and Andrew left for some private conversation, Dominique and Eustacia kept Marianne busy with talk about the new dresses she would need to have as she grew larger.
“As much as I love you for trying to protect me, my darlings,” Marianne shook her finger at them; “I know that something has happened. No,” she shook her head as the two women looked uneasy, “I will not ask you to tell me. It is Gerard’s place, as my husband, to tell me.”
But the conversation did not come up as tea ended and their guest went home. Eustacia went to her rooms and Marianne and Gerard dressed to attend a new exhibit at the museum. Gerard remained quiet and she wanted to strangle him for his obstinacy. She knew he was worried even more about her now that she was carrying his child; but she did not allow that excuse. She was no different now than she had been before. He needed to tell her what was going on before she hurt him. They were coming out of the museum discussing some of the artwork they had seen when she saw him falling. She tried to go to his aid, but someone had their hand clamped on her arm tightly. She was being dragged towards a waiting carriage in a side lane. Marianne screamed as the man’s other hand covered her mouth. She was shoved into the vehicle and her wrists bound behind her back before someone helped her sit. She looked at Philippe and Marie in shock.
“Hello, Lady Travers,” Philippe smiled and bowed his head to her. “We’ve come to congratulate you on your wedding to the Earl of Strathmore.” He reached out to stroke her cheek and she pulled away from him. “Our employer is quite pleased at your union. It makes you an even more valuable hostage.”
“You can’t do this to me,” Marianne protested as she watched Marie take out a flask. “This is abduction!” Marie held the flask to her lips and Marianne tried to refuse the drug. “No!” she cried in protest and Philippe moved next to her and held her. “Let me go!”
“Your new ‘father’ is eager to have you in France, little lady,” Marie laughed as she got the laudanum into their victim. “You will be treated like a princess.” She smiled as the girl whimpered in protest; “while he uses your status as hostage to force your young husband to do his bidding.”
Marianne could feel the drug taking over. She grabbed the handle of the carriage and yanked it open as the vehicle started to hurry away. She hit the ground and struggled to her feet, the world tilting around her sickeningly. She could not let them take her again, was her only thought as she stumbled back towards the museum. She saw Gerard getting to his feet and ran to him, sobbing. He held her in his arms tightly and glared at the carriage moving off at far too fast a speed than absolutely necessary. He took her into the museum office and cut her loose. The Director had a glass of brandy ready.
“It was Dominique’s brother, Gerard,” she whimpered as the shock wore off. “He – he said that he was going to take me to France so the Emperor could use me as a hostage against you.” She leaned against him, shaking in fear. “I don’t want to go to France, Gerard. Please don’t let him take me away.”
“No one is going to take you away from me, Marianne,” Gerard said softly as he kissed her hands and held them to his chest. “You are mine!” Marianne burst into tears and he looked at the Director in confusion. Why was she crying still? She was safe and she was with him. “Could you send for a carriage, sir?” he asked as Marianne drifted off. “It’s time I got my wife home. This sorry event has left her distraught.”
The Director went to see to that matter and Gerard held her close, scowling darkly at the thought of how easily he had been taken down. He had been knocked aside like he was nothing! He winced as he felt the pain in his knees and palms from where he’d hit the street when he fell. He could see the blood on his trousers at the knees and knew he would have to see it tended. But not now, he thought. Right now, she was the only person who mattered. She had been badly frightened by this experience and he had hated seeing that fear in her eyes.
“They had her in their foul hands, Andrew,” Gerard hissed later after Marianne had been put to bed and Andrew summoned. “Even drugged, they could not keep her. She jumped from the carriage as it started to move off and found her way back to me.” He winced as the pains hit his knees again. “I’d better have a doctor look at the knees. Lawrence,” Gerard called his butler, “have a runner get the doctor.”
“Very good, sir.”
The butler left the room and Andrew refilled Gerard’s glass. He was not happy at this attempt on his niece one bit. Gerard was his best man, and he had been taken down like a sapling. If Marianne had not kept her wits, she would now be on her way to France. He finished his drink and pour out another for himself and Gerard.
“We will discuss this with her tomorrow,” Andrew told the younger man firmly. “Go to your room now. I’ll send the doctor up when he arrives.”
Gerard looked at his superior in shock. He was sending him to his room like a naughty child. Andrew was in no mood to care, he saw. His mind was filled with the worries of the situation and his desire to keep his niece safe. Gerard did not envy him that, but he certainly knew how he felt. His heart had nearly died when he had seen her being dragged off while he was trying to get to his feet again. And she had not fallen to faint, but kept her wits and found a way to escape her kidnappers. He felt his heart swell with pride then; this fierce little beauty was his!
He hobbled out of the study and saw Lawrence lying on the floor. He heard a noise and saw men bringing Dominique and Marianne down the stairs. He found his gun and fired a shot into the air. The men froze and turned towards him. Dominique’s eyes cried out a warning to him and he turned a moment too late. Philippe struck him down and laughed. Then he nodded to his men.
“Get them out of here,” he ordered. He made certain the men were down and then he went to the waiting carriage. It moved off as he turned to smile at his angry sister. Dominique was holding the sleeping Marianne in her arms and glaring at him coldly. “There is no reason to be angry, sister dear. Your little lady is going to be kept hostage by one of the Emperor’s household now.” He reached out to touch her cheek and she moved away. “You shall be allowed to remain as her attendant only if you do nothing to keep this from happening.” He grabbed her by the throat and his eyes were cold and hard. “At the first sign of disobedience, sister, I will let Marie sell you to Madame Sophie. You’ll behave now, won’t you?” He laughed as Dominique sobbed. “I thought so.”
The carriage moved off and no one inside noticed the four stern-faced young men watching from nearby. The Tremayne boys had been invited to join Marianne and Gerard in London and were just arriving as Philippe and his men came out with their friend and her aunt. They followed at a distance as Philippe drove to Dover and met a ship there. Philippe and Marie celebrated as the ship sailed out into the Channel and headed around the eastern stretch of England. They stopped several hours later and laid anchor. Marianne and Dominique were lowered down into a dinghy and Philippe and Marie joined them and were rowed to shore. Several large swarthy men were on the beach waiting.
“Gentlemen,” Philippe smiled as he pulled the sleeping child out of the dinghy. “I present your lady to you: Marianne, heiress to the Baroness Tregallen; granddaughter of the Macalester, and wife of the Earl of Strathmore. She is to be treated with all due respect, and guarded like the crown jewels.” He yanked Dominique out of the dinghy and shoved her to the ground. “And this,” he laughed as Marie yanked Dominique up onto her knees; “is your new plaything, Dominique. As long as you do not interrupt her duties in the kitchen, you are free to amuse yourselves with her as you wish.”
The men laughed as Dominique cursed behind the gag. One of them hefted her over his shoulder and carried her off as she kicked and struggled for freedom. Philippe carried Marianne up to the house on the cliffs above and laid her on a bed in the tower room. He put the shackle on her ankle and fastened it to the foot post of the bed securely. Then he left her sleeping as he locked the door and went downstairs to join his men. He accepted the glass Marie handed to him and raised it.
“We now have a secure camp on English soil!” Philippe smiled. “To Napoleon!”
“Napoleon!”
“They’re spies, Robert,” Samuel reported when he slipped back to where his brothers were waiting. They had seen the carriage and followed it as discreetly as possible. They had snuck aboard and found a secure hiding place for the voyage. As their friends were rowed ashore, the boys had swum in and followed. “They have our girl as their hostage.”
“One of us is going to have to go get Gerard,” Robert decided. “By the time he gets here with help, we’ll know how many men are here and how to get in to her.” He saw Hugh’s worry. “You are the fastest on a horse, Hugh.” He saw the boy frown. “We need help here fast, brother. They’re not going to hurt our girl. They need her alive or they lose their ground.”
Hugh nodded and they moved out to find a horse. They got to the local inn and saw a seriously inebriated gentleman trying to mount. They escorted him to the stables and left him lying in a pile of hay. Hugh was given the man’s coat and hat, as well as his wallet. They would pay the man back later; once they had Marianne back. Hugh rode out, keeping his head down so that no one could see his face. They watched him gallop away, intent on his mission. Then Robert and the twins headed back to the place they had chosen to watch the house.


Marianne woke up and frowned. This was not the house in London. Where was she? She sat up and stayed still until the room stopped spinning. She looked around and saw the shuttered windows and the two doors. There was a fireplace with logs on the grate warming the simple room. A small table with two chairs was in one corner and an armoire was in the far corner. There was an upholstered chair with a lamp table sitting next to it with several books piled on it near the fireplace. Marianne got to her feet and heard the clank of metal. She looked down to see a chain on the foot post leading to - her ankle! She had been shackled like a beast! She sank back down, shaking in fear. This was not right! She had never had anything but love shown to her. Marianne did not know how to handle something like this. The door opened and she looked up to see Dominique coming in with a tray.
“Domi?” Marianne cried as she saw the collar on her companion. It was obvious from the bruises on her face and her torn gown that she had been roughly treated. The woman set the tray down and held Marianne in her arms as the girl sobbed.
“How maternal you are, sister dear,” Philippe laughed from the doorway. “You have duties to perform, slave. Your mistress is waiting for supper.” Dominique left the room and Philippe looked down at the child; and smiled as he saw the fear in her eyes. “You have no reason to fear us, Lady Marianne. You are safe here.”
“You hurt my aunt!” Marianne sobbed.
“My sister is just being reminded of her former life,” Philippe shrugged. “As long as she does as she is told, she will not be too badly bruised.” He shook his head and laughed. “You’re actually worried about the whore?”
“Domi is no whore!” Marianne protested. “She is my family and you will not hurt her!” She looked indignant as he began to laugh. “Have I said something to amuse you?”
“My sister would be quite touched to hear you defend her, little lady,” Philippe smiled at her. “You have no voice here, child. You own this property, but that is as far as it goes.” He took a step towards her and she backed away from him with a squeak of fright. “Someone will be here in four days, Lady Marianne, to escort you to France. You are now a hostage of the Emperor.”
“I don’t want to go to France,” Marianne sobbed and sank back on the bed. Her tears were flowing down her cheeks. “I want to go home to my husband.”
“What you want, child,” Philippe laughed as he reached towards her and she flinched away from his touch, “ceased to be of any concern the moment your Grandfather left you this property.” He yanked her to him and his eyes were cold. “You are now the property of the Emperor of France. If you behave yourself, you will be treated like a princess. Otherwise, I understand that the Bastille has some very uncomfortable cells.” He shoved her towards the table. “Eat your dinner. Dominique went to a great deal of trouble to prepare it for you and, whatever else one may say about my sister, she is a very good cook.”
He left the room and locked the door. He could hear her sobbing as he went down the stairs and he shook his head. He was quite impressed with the child; she had not broken down as so many others he had taken did. She had actually stood there defying him and defending her friend from his insults. It was a shame he couldn’t have her for his brothel; she would delight his customers with her ferocity. But the Emperor himself had given her his protection and no man would dare lay hands on the girl now. He joined Marie at the dining room table and watched his pretty sister being forced to slave for them. He yanked Dominique to his side and forced her to her knees.
“You have been a very naughty girl, Dominique,” he said tightly. “What did you tell the noble Avondale about us that had him handing us our hats?” Dominique glared at him and remained silent. He slapped her across the face. “I would prefer not to beat you, sister; it distresses the little lady who is our unwilling hostess, but I shall.” He yanked her closer, his grip punishing on her arms. “Tell me!”
“I didn’t have to tell him anything,” Dominique spat at him. “He could see you for the slime you are!” She glared over at Marie. “And there’s no disguising what that one is!”
“Careful, little sister,” Philippe snapped as he shoved her to the floor, “or Marie might think you do not like her.” He kicked her in the side. “Finish your duties here and then go feed the men.”
Dominique did as she was told and hurried to the kitchens. She sank down a moment to steel herself for what was coming. Then she filled a bag with tin plates and cups and utensils, put the jug in a carry pouch on a strap over her shoulder and lifted the pot of stew off the fire with a thick towel. She took it to the lower flower that had been turned into a rough barracks for her brother’s men. They let her serve them and then shoved her into a corner and made her wait there. She did not fight as they amused themselves with her after dinner. It would do no good. Her brother had won and she was back in the life he had chosen for her when their father had died and he had seen that her pretty face could give him the money to make things happen. She finally struggled back to the kitchens several hours later and Marie was waiting for her.
“You’ll take this to the little lady, slave,” Marie ordered as she put three drops of laudanum into some water. She nodded to the stove where a pot was on the burner. “I’ve started water for her bath.” She looked at Dominique and put down the fabric bundle. “Put this on before you go up to her. We don’t want to distress the child, do we?” She waited and Dominique knew what the woman wanted to hear.
“You can’t drug her, Marie,” she said coldly. She did not want to tell them, but she knew the drug would harm the child. “The lady Strathmore is pregnant,” she continued as Marie raised her hand.
“This is rich!” Marie laughed in delight. “Two hostages for the price of one!” She set the water aside. “We won’t need to drug her to keep her obedient now!” She nodded to Dominique. “Change your clothing and take up a pail of the water.”
Dominique picked up the bundle and saw a simple dress of gray homespun and an apron; the cap wrapped in the apron declared this for what it was; the garments of a servant. She changed and went to fill a pail with the warmed water. Marie grabbed her arm as she headed for the stairs, and Dominique met the woman’s cold eyes.
“I’ll know if you pull anything, slave,” Marie told her firmly. “If you do, you’ll come to my bed tonight.” She shoved Dominique to the stairs. “Go! Attend to the lady.”
Marianne looked up from where she was lying as she heard the door being unlocked. She saw Dominique and the fresh bruises on her face. Marie came in with a pail of water and poured it into the tub in the next room. She laid out a clean nightgown and then went downstairs. The two women made several trips to fill the tub and by the time Marianne was in it she was feeling very tired. They helped her bathe and then got her dried off and in the nightgown. Dominique was allowed to remain to comb out Marianne’s hair and braid it for the night. And then she was gone, and Marianne cried herself to sleep.


Andrew was readying his men to pursue the kidnappers when Hugh rode in dirty and exhausted. He told the man where Marianne was and what little they knew about the people who had her. Philippe and his wife had taken Marianne and Dominique prisoner; Hugh confirmed what they had guessed. Andrew knew they would not hurt Marianne, so his worry was for Dominique. She had escaped her foul brother’s usage of her as his whore at great personal risk and was now back in that same situation. He could feel his blood boiling as he sent word to the War Office that a blockade should be put in place. They would try to take the girl out of England and by sea seemed the most efficient route. He tried to send Hugh home but the boy refused. He was going back with them to help.
“My brothers are keeping an eye on them, Lord Macalester,” Hugh said to the man. “They’ll be able to tell us how many we’re facing when we get there.”
Andrew nodded and allowed the boy to accompany them only if he got his father’s permission. He not only got permission, but Andrew found his force swelling as Hugh told him that his father, the Duke and his men, were already heading to the property to join Andrew’s forces there. If he were not so worried, he would have been touched by the display of support for his niece. If they rode quickly, they would be back at the coast property before D’arboe knew what hit him.
But Philippe was already aware of what was coming. He had received a message from another contact and been warned. He was ordered to get the girl back aboard the ship at once and take her to France himself; his contact would be waiting at Calais to take her on to Paris. He entered the room where Marianne was imprisoned and saw her reading. She got to her feet and watched as he removed the shackle from her ankle and then he clamped his hand on her arm and led her downstairs.
“I do not need to tell you, do I my lady,” he hissed as she saw Dominique being dragged out of the house; “that Dominique will be the one who suffers if you do or say anything that angers me?” Marianne shook her head and did not fight as she was led down the beach to a pair of waiting dinghys. She was lifted into one as if she was breakable as Dominique and Philippe joined her. The boats moved off and Marianne saw Marie and the other men watching. Marianne wondered if she was hallucinating as some of the sailors lifted their heads and smiled at her reassuringly. They looked a great deal like two of the Tremayne boys, Robert and Stephen.
“Your stateroom, Princess,” Philippe mocked as he led her to a cabin and shoved her and Dominique inside. She heard the door being locked but she was too tired to care now. She went to lie down on the bed and cried herself to sleep.
The voyage lasted two days due to storms and Marianne had never felt sicker in her life. This was worse than morning sickness, she thought; as Dominique did her best to tend her. Marianne had insisted that Dominique remain with her, or she would find a way to throw herself overboard. Philippe had been quite amused with her, but had allowed her request. The morning of the third day was just beginning to dawn when they arrived at Calais. She and Dominique were taken ashore and guided to a carriage. It was a very nice carriage and there were guards in very beautiful uniforms of blue and gold outside of it.
She heard one of them speaking to the man who had brought her and realized she was in France. Was she never to be free of this nightmare? Once she was in the Emperor’s hands, she would never see England again. He would lock her in the Bastille and she would die there alone and abused. What would happen to her child then? She could not let them get her to the Emperor, she told herself; she had to find a way to escape. She tried to get up and her legs would not support her. She heard an amused laugh and saw a man reaching out to help her back on to the seat.
“The effects of the sea voyage, Princess,” the tall man with thick black hair silvered at the temples and impossibly blue eyes said to her gently. “You will soon be right again.”
“This is not right,” Marianne sobbed. She looked at him desperately. “I don’t want to go with you. I want to go home.”
“This is your home now, Princess,” the man replied gently. “You have become a hostage of the Emperor himself. He was quite pleased to take you in after you gifted him with lands in England he can use to land his spies and his troops.”
“I did no such thing!” Marianne protested. “I was abducted from my home and forced here against my will!” She glared at him and he was quite amused by her ferocity. “You will let me go home now! I am not going to be kept here against my choice!”
“You think you have a choice?” the man choked. He laughed in delight. The Emperor was going to enjoy this child. She was really quite amusing. “Princess, you are amusing.”
“Quit calling me that!” Marianne snapped. “I am not a Princess.”
“You are now, Your Highness,” the man replied calmly. “The title was bestowed on you by the Emperor when he ‘adopted’ you as his own.” He opened a flask and poured a small amount of liquid into the cap. “Drink this, child. It will help you calm down.”
“I don’t want to be calm,” Marianne hissed and slapped the cap out of his hand. “I want to go home!” He grabbed her wrist and she slapped him across the face. He shook his head and slugged her. He could always blame that on D’arboe. The man was a known brute. He watched her collapse with a sigh of protest and made her comfortable as a noble woman and her ladies stepped into the carriage with Dominique. The noble woman looked at the girl and turned to the man as the other women sat next to Marianne. Dominique took the girl in her arms and held her securely.
“You didn’t drug her?” Dominique cried in horror. Henri shook his head and relief flooded through her. “Ma petite,” she crooned as he stroked Marianne’s hair. “Ma pauvre petite.”
“Honestly, Henri,” Madame D’Arbanville sighed as she sat down beside him. “Did you have to distress the child?” He looked at her calmly. “I could hear her protests all the way to the Inn.” She adjusted the blanket and stroked Marianne’s hair. “Poor angel. To be taken from home and hearth at the whim of men you do not know.”
“She did not want to come with us, my Stephanie,” Henri smiled at his wife. “Imagine not wanting to be a member of the Emperor’s household.” He shook his head. “She is so sweet when she’s not screaming.”
“Any man would treasure this angel,” Stephanie smiled. “She is heiress to a Baroness and owns lands useful to the Emperor. It is obvious she is intelligent and talented; and she is very pleasant to look upon.” She continued stroking Marianne’s hair. “She is young. She will learn to behave.”
“She has a husband,” Dominique hissed at them; “and he is not going to sit still for your foul Emperor abducting her and their unborn child…” She paled as she realized what she had said.
“She is pregnant?” Stephanie paled herself and looked to her husband. “Henri…”
“It changes nothing, my dear,” he said to her stiffly. “We have been given a task and we lose our heads if we do not complete it.” He looked at Dominique. “You will have to keep her quiet, woman. If you cannot, we will have to find a drug we can give her.”
Henri D’Arbanville settled back and thought over the matter. He had seen the fire in this child’s eyes and knew she was determined to do harm to get what she wanted. He and his wife would be hard pressed to get such a one to behave. He knew there were men in the Emperor’s court who would take great pleasure in breaking the girl. He would see her dead first. Such a one needed a strong man who would guide her, and that she had already in Gerard. He nodded to the Captain and they drove out of Calais; heading to the palace in Paris and this child’s new home in the Emperor’s household. He wished he could tell the girl she was among friends with his wife and him; but they had built their cover at great personal risk and they could not let anything jeopardize it, even a pretty child with a fierce nature and eyes like violets.


Andrew and his men made short work of the band left behind and Marie was taken into custody, leaving Andrew’s men masquerading as the French spies. If D’arboe came back, he would be in for a rude awakening. He was still reeling from the news that Robert and Stephen Tremayne had gone to France. Those boys were fearless, he found himself thinking as he listened to the Duke questioning Samuel; who had remained behind to tell them that Marianne was not without friends.
“Your sons are going to be good, strong men,” he said to Tremayne as they sat at dinner. He saw Samuel and Hugh beaming. “If they don’t get their heads handed to them first.”
“They’re already good, strong men,” Tremayne replied, looking over at his sons with pride. “They saw their little friend in jeopardy and they took steps to get her help.” He thought about telling Andrew the truth and decided against it. “The Emperor will choose one of his nobles as her guard. If we’re lucky, he will have chosen one who will treat her kindly.” He shook his head and laughed. “Leave it that girl to get herself abducted by Napoleon! He won’t know what hit him!”
“You really think she can handle this situation, Tremayne?”
“Think on it, Macalester,” the Duke smiled. “You saw the way she had my boys wrapped around her pretty little finger.” Andrew nodded. “There wasn’t a man, or woman for that matter, within fifty miles who wouldn’t kill to keep her safe and happy; including myself. But for all she can weave a spell and make people adore her, she is the most selfless and sweet young woman I have ever met.” He sighed. “When she learns not to be so headstrong, she’ll make a wonderful Duchess.” He saw Andrew bristle. “Not for me, Macalester,” he sniffed. “For Robert.”
“He can’t have her!” Hugh snapped. The men turned to him and he flushed. “Robert is going to be a Duke! He doesn’t need a Barony, too! I say she marries me!”
“I’m older than Hugh,” Samuel chimed in. “so Marianne should be my wife!”
“It seems you have a little mutiny on your hands, Tremayne,” Andrew laughed. He quieted a moment. “You can quell it now by reminding your sons that Marianne is already married and expecting her husband’s child. Her husband is on his way to Paris now to find a way to free her.”
“She’s pregnant?” the Duke choked. “This is even worse than I feared!” He had no choice now. He had to tell Andrew the truth. “I need to speak to Lord Macalester alone, boys. If you will excuse us?” His sons trailed and he shut the door behind them. He turned to Andrew ashen-faced. “They know Gerard is coming after her, Avondale,” he said bluntly. “They will imprison him and hold him as hostage. Marianne will be handed over to their English agent then and forced to sign over the property.”
“How do you know all of this, Ravenhold?” Andrew asked tightly.
“Because I have been watching over her,” the Duke replied, “at the request of the War Office, since her father was murdered, lord Andrew.” He saw Andrew’s shock. “No one was supposed to know it was murder. Like her mother, her father’s death was made to look like an accident.” He frowned. “Someone in your household knew that the old lord was going to give that property to his granddaughter twelve years ago, and they sent word to the Frenchman.”
“So this all began then?” Andrew cursed as the Duke nodded. “I’ll need to send word to Pertwee. He has to warn Gerard…”
“He isn’t going to listen,” Samuel said as he came out of hiding. He and Hugh were standing in the doorway of the next room. “We wouldn’t.”
“This was meant to be a private conversation, boys,” the Duke frowned. “I should have known I couldn’t keep you two out of it.” He pointed to the chairs. “Very well. Since you are involving yourselves, you can help us figure out how to help Marianne and her husband and Lord Andrew’s wife get back safely to England.”


Marianne woke up as the carriage pulled into the front yard of an Inn and stopped. The innkeeper was practically squirming in delight as he found his humble establishment being honored by intimates of the Emperor. He nearly fainted when he was told he had the honor of housing one of the Emperor’s wards. Marianne couldn’t take her anger out on him; he had not kidnapped her. So she smiled at him sweetly and complimented him on his fine establishment as Henri took her inside. Only when they were in their rooms, did her smile fade. She looked over at Dominique, who was as disturbed as she was.
“At least we’re together,” Marianne sighed. “I don’t think I could bear to be so far from home without a friend nearby.”
“You must not lose hope, Marianne,” Dominique said as she hugged the girl. “Your uncle and your husband are not going to rest until we are back in England.” She stroked Marianne’s hair. “Until then we might as well enjoy our trip. I have never been to Paris.”
She was so kind and gentle that Marianne was completely disarmed. She burst into tears and found herself being enfolded in Dominique’s arms. The woman crooned to her and murmured encouragement and consolation to her in French and Marianne soon quieted. Henri entered the room and found his charge asleep on the settee. Dominique was stroking the girl’s hair and humming an old lullaby. He was impressed.
“You have the magic touch, Dominique,” Henri bowed to her. “I bow to your mastery. I had expected her to be fuming and fussing.”
“She just needed someone who understood, old friend,” Dominique replied. “You forget she is only a child. She does not understand what is happening to her and she is terrified.” She looked down at her charge fondly. “She is the type who does not take kindly to being out of control.”
“I will see dinner is sent up for you both,” Henri nodded. “Madame and I are going down now.” He frowned. “I wish we could tell her the truth, Dominique, but hers is not the only life in jeopardy here.”
An hour later, the scent of warm bread woke Marianne from sleep. She ate without any argument and allowed Dominique to help her out of her corset and dress. She was already half asleep when she lay down on the bed. Dominique kissed her on the forehead and pulled out the trundle bed from underneath the bed to sleep. She was as deep in sleep as Marianne when the window opened and someone climbed in. Robert tried to wake Marianne but she did not stir. He frowned at this setback. He could not rescue her if she could not run. So he wrote a note and slipped it inside the pocket in her dress, praying no one else would find it first. Then he slipped back down to the ground and went to join Stephen in the stables. Henri watched all of this with mounting amusement. It appeared the child was not without her friends. He knew this boy. He had sat across from him at dinners. So the Tremayne family was involved now. The girl would not remain long in imperial custody if that were so.
“That was impressive, boys,” he said as he walked up behind them. He put his fingers to his lips and they nodded. “If you want to help her then you must do what I ask. I would prefer not to have to arrest the sons of one of my dearest friends.” They were all ears. “I will take you on as retainers; Robert and Etienne D’eauville from Normandy. Your father, an old family retainer, asked me to give his two mute sons employment. If you cannot agree to this, I will send you home.”
“We want to be where we can help Marianne,” Robert told him bluntly. “We will take your advice, Sir…”
“I am Monsieur Henri D’Arbanville,” the man told them tightly. “If you were not mute, you would address me as such.”
“Monsieur?” The Captain strode into the stables and saw the boys. “Who have we here? Henri told him and the Captain nodded. He knew who they were, there was no mistaking whose sons they were; but he was Henri’s man and he would not tell. “I will find mounts for them.” He looked at the boys. “You can ride, can you not?” Neither boy spoke, and he nodded. “Mutes, is it?” He smiled. “Come along then, boys. We’ll bed you with the guard for tonight.”
Morning arrived and Madame D’Arbanville had purchased proper garments for her and Dominique. She put them on and blushed as she saw the way her breasts were displayed. It was not proper for her to be showing herself off like this and she said so. Stephanie laughed in delight and clapped her hands. This child was going to be so popular her head was going to spin. She showed Marianne how to lessen the effect of the garment and saw the girl relax. Her maids dressed the girl’s hair and set the hat on her head. Then they helped her into the coat and Henri came in to look her over.
“You’re correct, my wife,” he said to Stephanie as his eyes remained on Marianne. “She is going to be the belle of the ball.” He picked Marianne up and carried her downstairs. They had breakfast in a private room. He was very serious as he took her hands in his. He cleared his throat. “You are going to be in the Emperor’s court and there will be men who will seek to take advantage of you. So you will remain with my wife and her ladies whenever we are in court, is this clear?” Marianne nodded. “I knew you were an intelligent girl.”
“We can do nothing about the way men will look at you, Marianne,” Stephanie continued as her husband grew silent, “but we will do all we can to keep you untouched. You are a married woman, after all!” She stroked Marianne’s arm. “If you feel uncomfortable, you will tell us immediately and we will remove you from the situation, if we can.”
“It is time to leave,” Henri said as breakfast ended. They got back in the carriage and Marianne saw two very familiar boys among the entourage. She looked at Henri in confusion and he winked at her. She felt relief flood through her. These people did not mean to harm her; they truly wished to protect her as best they could. And when the time came, she knew they would see her and Dominique safely home to England where they belonged.
The journey was tedious and the women taught her a card game to pass the time. Aunt Eustacia had always told her that ladies did not play cards, but she saw that this was not the same in France. She threw herself into learning what they were showing her. If she was going to be forced to stay in this country for a time, she might as well enjoy as much of the experience as she could. They stopped at another inn and pulled into Paris in the early morning of the third day. Marianne was thrilled at the sight of a new city. She was smiling as they pulled up in front of the imperial palace.
“You will be presented to the Emperor tonight,” a man informed them as they were shown to their apartments. “He is looking forward to meeting his new daughter.” He bowed to Marianne. “Welcome to your new home, Princess.”
Marianne was stunned as the man eyed her like a particular sweet piece of candy and she turned away, blushing furiously. If that was how men looked at women in France, she was going to be permanently embarrassed. His eyes had been on her breasts the entire time he was speaking to her. She looked at Stephanie and the woman came over to hug her and tell her it was going to be all right. When she had calmed, she explored the apartments. They were set up so that her room was at the very back and could only be entered by going through the room given to Henri and Stephanie. There was no secret passage or door through which she could be reached. It did not feel like a prison for once. She was being protected here.
Each room was richly decorated and quite enchanting. Gold and white satin was used in the sitting room on chairs, on curtains, and as wallpaper. The rugs were white and gold with touches of rose and gold flowers. The maids’ rooms were plainer; the lord and ladies room were more richly embellished. But when she walked into her room and saw the immense bed with its canopy of satin silk with its rose and green stripe behind a fence with a gate, she was stunned. She had never seen anything so ornate in her life. People actually lived like this? She opened the white armoire with its gold banding and saw all the gowns inside. Drawers below held shoes and hats were set on top. She was not used to having such beautiful and useless things.
“You have to get used to being admired, petite,” Dominique told her later as she was being dressed for the presentation. “You are a very beautiful young woman. There is no man alive who would not see you and want you in his bed.”
“I wasn’t raised to think such things proper, Dominique,” Marianne admitted to her. “I am going to embarrass Monsieur and Madame by slapping some man…”
“You go right ahead and slap them if they push for things you do not wish to give,” Dominique broke in and hugged her. “Your rank will keep most of them at bay, but there are those who will play with fire. If they compromise you, they hope that the Emperor will award you to them as a mistress.”
“I am married!” Marianne fumed. “I belong in my husband’s bed, and no other!” She saw the amusement in Dominique’s eyes. “They truly think like that?” She shuddered at the thought. “I will not leave your side all night.”
The time came and Marianne walked along the gloriously decorated corridors from their apartments to the ballroom, shaking in fear. She caught Stephanie’s encouraging smile and did her best to be courageous. As two men in household uniform opened the doors in front of her a staff struck the floor. The sound of it echoed through the immense room.
“Her Highness, the Princess Marianne, new come to the court of our Emperor,” the Major Domo boomed. “Her escort, Monsieur and Madame D’Arbanville and company.”
Henri offered her his arm and he led her directly to the thrones set on a dais at the end of the room. The man seated there in resplendent uniform waiting to receive her as his prisoner intrigued her. He was not at all the ogre she had imagined him to be. She was smart enough to curtsy to him as they stopped before him and he stood to his feet and came up to raise her eyes to his.
“Quite charming,” he smiled at her and she felt his charm reaching out to her, begging her to adore him. “You are very beautiful, my English daughter.” He held his arm out to her and Marianne was forced to accompany him as he introduced her to his wife and family. They greeted her as if she was truly a member of the family and she was confused. This was not how one treated prisoners, surely. Shouldn’t she be on her way to the Bastille? He kissed her on the forehead. “Now return to your escort and allow them to introduce you to the rest of the court.” Marianne curtsied and he smiled warmly. “I am quite pleased with you, my pretty hostage. Your husband will come to my employ swiftly to have you returned to his side.”
Marianne found Henri at her side and she went with him gladly. Any longer in that man’s company and she would forget completely that she was here against her will. He was a seducer of the first order and dangerous to innocent English women. She smiled vaguely at the people being introduced to her and then joined Stephanie and her ladies. Men came to her to ask to be allowed to dance with her and Stephanie approved or vetoed as she saw fit. She sent more away than she allowed close and Marianne was even more certain now that she was safe among them.
“You are far too protective of the little princess, D’Arbanville,” one man was overheard saying to Henri. “She needs to learn some time.”
“Not with a man such as you,” Henri had replied coldly. “When Her Highness is ready for such dalliance, she will tell me and I will advise her against it.” He looked over at Marianne and smiled at her. “A beauty like you, Marianne, will have every man in this court throwing themselves at her feet.” She blushed and he was enchanted. He knew what the French slime were thinking when they saw the child. Despite the fact that she was married, there remained an aura of innocence about her that was quite fascinating.
Marianne was thoroughly enchanted with her guardian. He was like her Uncle Andrew. Henri would never let anyone cause her harm if he could prevent it. She thought of her uncle and aunt now and felt tears spring to her eyes. How she hoped they were safe; and suddenly found that she could not stop the tears from falling. She turned to Dominique and the loving woman brought out a handkerchief and dried her eyes, murmuring endearments to her and making her feel safe and loved.
“It is time the child was in bed, husband,” Stephanie said to her husband as she saw the breakdown. “This is too much for her.”
“That is a shame,” a familiar voice sounded. They turned to see Gerard standing there. But this Gerard was much altered. He looked at her with an arrogance her Gerard had not possessed and he had black hair and a goatee on his face. “I was looking forward to being allowed to speak to the angel.” He bowed to Marianne and she knew she was to pretend she did not know him. “Your Highness, every female in this room is a hag in comparison to you.”
“You jest, sir,” Marianne choked, even as she played along. “I am considered quite plain where I come from.” She looked to Henri and saw a look of confusion on his face. As if he felt the same way she did; this young man was not supposed to be here.
“Your Highness,” he finally said. “May I present to you the Compte Gerard di Talavers? His father is an old friend of ours.” He seemed to say the rest with extreme reluctance. “He is an acceptable companion for you.”
“How dearly he wished not to admit that,” Gerard smiled at his wife as he offered her his arm. “One more dance, pretty princess, before you retire?” Marianne accepted his offer and they moved out onto the dance floor. She blushed as she realized they were playing a dance that required him to put her arms around her. She saw the expression in her eyes and wished she could relax and hold him tight. As if sensing her thoughts, he leaned close. “We will be leaving soon, Marianne,” he said to her in English. “I love you; do you know that?” The dance ended and she was still in shock. “You are right, she is overwhelmed.” He took her hand and kissed the pulse point in her wrist. He felt her shiver and he was delighted. “Good night, Princess.”
Marianne made her good nights to her new ‘father’ and returned to her apartments with her companions. She could still feel Gerard’s lips against her wrist and she looked at it as if it should be branded now. How could such a simple caress leave such a lasting sensation? She saw his face now and she felt her entire body blushing. Gerard had come for her! Marianne’s heart sang with joy. He was braving the entire French army to take her home, and he had told her that he loved her! But if he were caught, he could be executed for espionage! As much as she wanted to go home, she could not bear the thought of her husband dying to make it possible. She was so deep in puzzling out her feelings that she jumped as Dominique laid her hand on Marianne’s cheek. The woman’s knowing look made her blush even more deeply.
“You finally realize how much you care for the man, ma petite,” Dominique told her. “He will do whatever he must to get you away from here.”
“But will he succeed?” Marianne asked. Dominique nodded and the girl did not know whether to be terrified or intrigued. She was still in a trance as Dominique helped her to bed.
“She is going to dream of handsome young men with warm brown eyes,” Dominique told Henri and Stephanie when she left Marianne sleeping. “She is going to worry about him,” she continued as she accepted a drink from one of the maids. “That is not good.”
“He is a fortunate man to be loved by such a girl,” Stephanie laughed. She saw Henri’s look and laid her hand on his cheek. “She could not be in better hands, my dear. He will not hurt her.”
“She is a child,” Henri protested. “She does not understand men like Gerard. He could confuse her so much that she allows him liberties he should not take.”
“He is her husband, Henri,” Stephanie reminded her husband. “Quit being such an old woman and come to bed.”


The days passed and Marianne found Gerard incorporating himself into her life. He was her primary dance partner. He took her riding or strolling in the gardens, always under the watchful eyes of her guardians and the ladies, of course. It soon felt like he had always been there and she was quite happy about it. Until she was summoned to the Emperor’s apartments and found Gerard standing there, looking quite pleased with himself. The Emperor looked from the confused girl to the eager young man and he saw the match. It was a good choice, he had decided. Talavers was an Italian estate, and the girl would be even further away from English hands. The Compte and his family had promised that they would never allow her to return to England as long as it could be prevented and he knew them well enough to trust their word. He came over to kiss Marianne on the cheek.
“Our young friend, Gerard di Talavers, has asked for my permission to take you as his mistress,” Napoleon informed her bluntly. “We are pleased to inform you that we have given our permission. You shall go to his bed this very night.” Marianne could not speak, she was too angry. He had no right to present this to her as if it were already agreed to. Napoleon turned to Gerard. “Take your beautiful bed mate with you, Gerard.”
Marianne curtsied and turned to run. Gerard bowed and followed her. She did not stop until they were in the gardens. Gerard turned her to him and was not surprised when she slapped him across the face. He kissed her then, too caught up in the need to calm her to think straight. He felt her stiffen in shock and knew he should let her go. But he did not let up and then she was whimpering and struggling in protest. When he finally let up, she looked stunned and dazed. She touched her fingers to her lips and then burst into tears and ran. Stephanie looked up as Marianne came rushing out of the gardens crying. She held out her arms and glared at Gerard whose appearance behind her told the woman exactly what had transpired.
“He - he told me I had to become the Compte di Talaver’s mistress, Madame,” Marianne sobbed. “Like he had the right to do such a vile thing!”
“Vile?” Gerard choked. He was actually quite hurt until he remembered that he was taking his own wife as his ‘mistress’ to keep her close and safe. “Madame,” he turned to Stephanie; “I suggest you explain the way of things to your young charge. She seems to think she has a choice when the Emperor has decided what her future will be.”
“You hurt his feelings, ma petite,” Stephanie laughed in delight as Gerard bowed stiffly and stormed off. She pulled out a kerchief and handed it to Marianne. “Come now; dry your tears. Tell me why you find the idea of being the mistress to a young man you are obviously quite fond of vile?”
“I am a married woman!” Marianne finished her reasons a few moments later. “No one has the right to dishonor that bond, even the Emperor of France!”
“Oui, ma petite,” Stephanie smiled at the girl fondly. She stroked Marianne’s hand. “He kissed you, didn’t he?” Marianne blushed and looked down. “I recognized the stunned expression and the tears from my days as an innocent.” She raised Marianne’s eyes to hers. “Tell me, ma petite; did you enjoy it when he kissed you?”
“It frightened me,” Marianne told her honestly. Stephanie raised her eyebrows. “I was confused and excited and terrified, all at the same time.” Her eyes glistened with tears. “But it does not matter, Madame;” Marianne cried in protest. “I will not go to another man’s bed! I belong with my husband.”
“Ma petite,” Stephanie laughed at her. “He does not care that you have a husband.” She put her arm around Marianne’s shoulders and they headed to the apartments. “You will want your woman,” she nodded over at Dominique. “Your lover will provide other servants for you as needed.”
Henri and Gerard looked up stunned as Marianne burst into the apartments, sobbing. She ran to her room and threw herself down on the bed. Dominique held her as she continued to cry, locked in her grief in a way she had never experienced before. Gerard got up to follow her and Stephanie called him back, shaking her head and telling him to let her be.
“She will weep, she will wail, but she will be happy with you, Gerard.” She smiled then. “May I suggest you kiss her again soon? She was quite confused this first time.”
“Then I am obviously doing something wrong,” Gerard replied. He looked at Henri’s scowl. “I wish it could be otherwise, Henri, but we are locked to this choice now. The Emperor is quite pleased.”
“We must not disappoint the Little General,” Henri sniffed.
“You’d think you were her father,” Gerard laughed, “the way you are carrying on.” He put his hand to his heart. “I assure you, sir; my intentions are most honorable. I love the girl and I will never do anything to hurt her.” He heard a gasp and looked over to see Marianne standing in the doorway. He got to his feet and held his hand out to her. The shock was too much for her; she passed out cold and Gerard picked her up in his arms and carried her back to her bed. “Marianne, my dear one?” he called to her gently. “My sweet love,” he crooned as he stroked her hands. “Please open your eyes for me.”
Marianne came to and she looked up at him in confusion. “It’s not possible,” she said softly as he embraced her. “You can’t be here, Gerard. It is too dangerous.”
“I would dare anything to get you back, my love,” Gerard said gently as he raised her eyes to his. He leaned closer. “I am going to kiss you now, Marianne,” he warned her. “You must continue our charade and rebuff me.” He saw a bit of fear in her eyes. “There is no need to be frightened. You are doing quite well.”
He kissed her then and his lips were gentle and tender. She felt herself responding to his kiss and she felt warm and safe and loved. But then she remembered what he had asked her to pretend. She cried out in protest as she slapped him and pushed him away.
“You are not my husband,” she told him sternly. “You should not be in my bedroom kissing me. No,” she told him as he came towards her slowly. “I do not want you! I don’t care what the Emperor has decided.” She turned her back on him. “Go away!”
Gerard bowed to her and left. He knew he could push her; he had felt her response in their brief kiss, but he did not want to frighten her. She was going to be back in his arms soon enough. The thought made him smile and he was practically beaming as he walked out past the confused couple and headed for his apartments. Madame D’Arbanville came in an hour later and prepared her to be turned over to the Compte di Talavers. She sat silent and fuming as they forced her into a gown that displayed her charms to their fullest. Then Gerard returned and he led her out, like he was escorting her to a ball and not to his bed. The eyes of all were on her as she went and she refused to show them she was afraid of them.
“My own sweet Marianne,” Gerard sighed as the doors closed behind them in his apartments and they were finally alone. “I thought I would die when I saw you being taken away from me.”
“How are we going to get out of here, Gerard?” Marianne asked him as he contented himself with holding her in his arms. “He’s not just going to let us walk away…”
“That is exactly what we are going to do, my sweet,” Gerard laughed. “You are my Mistress now and when I am sent on some mission of diplomacy for the Emperor, you will be with me.” He tightened his grip on her. “He has made me personally responsible for seeing you remain away from England.” He heard someone coming. “Are you ready to be a reluctant hostage again, my love?” Marianne screamed and slapped him across the face. As the doors opened, to admit a servant, he shoved her down on the bad and held her struggling body. “The Emperor has made you mine, woman! I will have you in my bed!”
“Take your filthy hands off of me!” Marianne sobbed and increased her struggles. “I will never let you take what belongs to another. Never!”
“Then I shall have to find another way to convince you, ma petite,” Gerard laughed. He looked at her quite coldly and Marianne was truly frightened. “There are certain drugs that can be used…”
“No!” Marianne cried in horror. “You would not dare!”
“I will do whatever it takes, my lady,” Gerard laughed. The door closed and he made certain the servant was gone before he kissed her warmly and laughed in delight. “Marianne, you are exquisite!”
Marianne moved off to look out the window and Gerard came up behind her. He leaned his head on her shoulder so that their cheeks were touching. He knew they were playing a dangerous game, but it was necessary. He had to get Marianne and Dominique back to England, no matter what the cost. He would gladly sacrifice his own life to have his wife and their child home. He would never tell her this, for he would have a true fight on his hands if she were aware of his intentions. When the War Office had approached him and asked him to go to France to assist their agents, the D’Arbanville in their mission; he had not known that mission would be seeing his own wife safely out of France. He went to lock the door and stepped back as the Emperor strode in with a smile on his face. He saw the angry man and the weeping woman and frowned.
“I see she is not willing, Monsieur la Compte,” Napoleon stated. “I will have drugs sent for your use that will make her a little less reluctant…”
“I will not let him touch me!” Marianne snapped as she turned from the window. “What he wishes from me belongs only to my husband!”
“You are in France now, my dear,” Napoleon laughed at her. “Here we do not hold such beliefs. You are a beautiful woman, lady Strathmore,” he continued as he approached her. “You were fashioned by the gods themselves to give pleasure to men. If I choose to give you to my loyal servant,” he smiled at her nastily, “as a bed mate; than it shall be so.” He reached up to rip the front of her bodice open. “If I wish to take you myself,” he snarled as he pulled her to him and kissed her as she struggled to be released; “that shall also be so. You are a hostage, and have no voice here.”
He released her and Marianne backed away from him, her hands holding the tatters of the dress around her. He laughed and left the room without another backwards glance. Marianne burst into tears, her fear no longer controllable. She could not stay here! She had to get away from these monstrous people before they harmed her or her child. She looked at Gerard in despair and saw the rage in his eyes, the clenched fists. He would kill Napoleon before he would let her be taken by him. She collapsed to the floor, sobbing as the horror of the situation hit her full on.
“I will kill him before he lays a hand on you again,” he said as he took her into his arms. “Hush now, my love,” he crooned as he picked her up and carried her to bed. “I’ll get Dominique…”
“No, Gerard,” Marianne cried and grabbed his arm as he turned to go. “Please stay here with me a while. Just hold me?”
The next two weeks went by in a routine of walks, dinners, and outings. The D’Arbanville were their constant companions so there was relative safety from the Emperor’s threats. Gerard was called to the Emperor and told that his services were needed. He was to act as a courier to the Spanish court. He was to go alone, the Emperor told him; his pretty mistress would remain with the D’Arbanville until he returned. Gerard knew he was being set up for assassination and he met with Henri to make their plans. Robert and Stephen sat in as he set out the action for them to take.
“There is a chapel in Aux-la-Chappelle that is quite delightful,” he told them. “Take Marianne there on an outing. He cannot disagree with that.” He was already mourning the loss of her. “Our contacts will be there to take her and Dominique on to Calais. Her uncle will be there to take them on to England.”
“What about you, Gerard?” Robert asked.
“I go to Marseille,” he said simply; “as I was ordered to do.” He saw their worry. “It can be no other way. It will alert them if I disobey the order. I am the distraction that will keep his eyes off of Marianne.” He laid his hand on Robert’s shoulder. “If I do not return, you and your brothers must promise me you will keep her safe.”
“But you will return, Gerard,” Stephen protested. He saw the others’ expressions and his blood ran cold. “We will guard her with our lives, as you would.”
Gerard was satisfied. He had one night with his wife and they parted in the morning. She did not want to go on the outing the D’Arbanville had arranged for her but he had told her to trust them. So an hour after Gerard had left she was in a carriage with the couple, their servants, and Dominique. They visited the chapel and had a picnic on a hill overlooking a picturesque landscape. But as they packed up to go, a band of men rode in, masked and firing weapons. They were taken captive and forced to ride with them for several hours north. Marianne watched as the D’Arbanville and their servants were blindfolded and left in an old barn under the watch of two men. Then she, Dominique, and the boys were taken on. They took only short breaks as they rode to Calais.
“Calm now, child,” a very familiar voice sounded in her ear as Marianne came awake during one of the rests and found someone putting their hand over her mouth. “I have you now. You are safe.”
“Uncle Andrew?” Marianne’s eyes shot open. She threw her arms around him with a sob and he helped her to her feet and led her to a closed carriage. The four ‘fugitives’ sat inside as they were taken to a ship. They were given cloaks to hide their faces and hurried aboard. Marianne collapsed on a bunk and fell into a deep sleep.
When she woke again, she was in a cabin on a ship. There was a dress laid across the foot of the bed. She slipped it on and walked out on deck where Andrew, Dominique and some unfamiliar men were waiting. Robert and Stephen were with them. She embraced them happily; glad that they had been safe. They were already halfway to England, Stephen told her.
“And Gerard and the D’Arbanvilles?” she demanded of him. “Please tell me they are all safe!”
“Henri and Stephanie are quite safe,” Andrew nodded. “There was a ransom demanded, that their man of business paid quite easily. They spun a little fiction that they had overheard their abductors saying they were taking you and the others to Morocco for sale as slaves. The authorities are looking for you from Paris to Marseilles. Gerard will find a ship in Marseilles and make his way back to you.”
“He is putting himself in harm’s way, Uncle,” Marianne cried and put her fist to her lips. She did not want him hurt. “Please excuse me. I’m not feeling well.”
She went back to the cabin and locked the door. Then she held a pillow to her face and sobbed as she thought of Gerard. She could not lose him now! He had to come home to her and their child. There was a knock on the door and she refused to answer it.
“You must eat, niece,” Andrew’s voice sounded on the other side of the door.
“I don’t feel like eating, Uncle,” Marianne told him. “Please leave me alone.” She curled up on the bed and began to cry again. She felt so miserable. If Napoleon’s soldiers caught Gerard, he would be executed for espionage. She could not bear the thought of him dying because he had tried to protect her. She fell asleep crying and woke up later to find dinner waiting on a tray on the table. Her uncle was sitting on the window bench looking out to sea. She ran to him when he opened his arms and cried some more as he stroked her back.
“You must trust him, Marianne,” Andrew told her. “He is doing what he must to get you away from Napoleon.”
“But he – he could die, Uncle,” Marianne protested. “What will I do then?” She began to sob again. “I will be left alone with no one to help me with our child.”
“You will cease this weeping at once!” Andrew snapped at her. She looked up at him in shock and he kissed her on the forehead. “You are of Macalester blood and will face whatever life sends you with courage and strength.” He shook her. “That young man loves you more than life itself, Marianne,” he told her bluntly. “He will find a way home to you.”
He set her on her feet and made her sit at the table and eat. He was frowning as he heard her break down again. He sent Dominique to see to her and tried to think what he could do to make this better for her. As much as he believed Gerard would get home, he was worried. Napoleon had sent the boy out on a mission with the intention of doing him in. Gerard was no fool! He would do what he had to do to give the dogs hunting him the slip. Andrew knew that word had been sent among their contacts to aid the young man every way they could. It was up to Dame Fortune now.


Marianne sat up with a cry of fright and found that she was shaking. It had been the same dream she had been having since the day after Gerard had left her in France, over three weeks ago. It was nothing, she assured herself as Estelle arrived at the sound to check on her. She assured her maid that she was fine and struggled to return to sleep. But sleep eluded her now; she had to find out if Gerard was all right. The dream of him falling to enemies was too vivid. It was almost as if she had been there when a bullet struck his shoulder and he fell from his horse. She finally quit trying to sleep and got out of bed. She went downstairs and surprised her uncle and aunt in the kitchen. They jumped apart as she walked in on their affection.
“I had a nightmare,” she told them when they asked why she was awake. “Gerard was shot and abducted,” she continued. She looked at her uncle and her worry was plain. “Has he sent any word at all, Uncle?” Andrew shook his head and her worry mounted. “He’s been gone nearly a month.” She was pacing in her anxiety. “I don’t like this!” She took the cup of milk that Dominique poured out for her and took a sip. A moment later her stomach was boiling. She ran for the bathroom and was sobbing after she lost the contents of her stomach. “I can’t let myself be sick now! Gerard needs me. I know it.”
Dominique saw her back to bed and Marianne finally fell asleep. She woke up in the morning and was sick again. Estelle was shocked when she could not keep her breakfast down. She had a footman run for the Doctor and settled down to tend to her mistress. When the Doctor finally arrived Marianne was quite pale from being unable to keep any food down. He examined the girl and came out of the room to a very worried Andrew and Dominique.
“Your niece has contracted the flu going around the country right now,” he told them unhappily. “Her illness is to be expected, given the way she is worrying herself sick over her young man. I’ve left a medication to help her with the nausea. Tell your Cook she should be given light nourishing meals several times a day until the worst of it is over.” He grew serious. “And try to keep her from worrying. It is not good for her or her child.” He frowned, knowing that was not going to be easy. “I’ll check in on lady Eustacia while I’m here. Don’t tell her about her niece’s condition.”
Dominique went into Marianne’s bedroom while Andrew went to see if his inquiries had born any fruit at all. She found her niece seated in bed pale and shaking. Dominique sat down next to her and put her arms around the girl. Marianne leaned into her and whimpered. She had always hated being sick, but it was worse for her now knowing illness would harm her child.
“You need to think of yourself now, Marianne,” Dominique told her bluntly. “The doctor tells us worry is not good for you or the child you are carrying.” Her hand joined Marianne’s on the girl’s swollen abdomen. She had just begun her fifth month of pregnancy. “You want to be healthy when he comes back to you, don’t you?”
“I want to go to London, Domi,” she told her former governess and now aunt. “I need to find out for myself what is being done to help him.”
“We will discuss this with Eustacia,” Dominique suggested. “Are you feeling strong enough to dress and go to her?” Marianne nodded and Dominique turned to Estelle. “See to your mistress, Estelle, and then pack a case for her. We shall call it a shopping trip. We will bring Lady Margaret with us.” She kissed Marianne on the forehead. “We’ll probably arrive to find him already there and this worry will seem like nonsense.”
Eustacia seemed much improved this morning and she was quite approving of the plan to go ‘shopping’. The distraction, she told Dominique privately, would help Marianne. She was looking far too peaked, Eustacia said. She sent a note over to Tremayne Manor and two hours later a carriage arrived bearing Margaret and her trunk. Samuel and Stephen rode alongside on their stallions, chosen to be their guard. It took an hour more for the Tremayne’s to make their greetings to Eustacia and the servants to settle Marianne into the carriage. They drove off with the ladies; Marianne, Dominique, and Margaret, and their maids; Estelle, Celeste, and Molly, inside. The other women clucked and fussed over Marianne until she was ready to scream. She finally fell asleep and slipped into blessed silence.


Gerard looked up as the door to his cell opened and saw the old hag bring in his dinner. For the past several weeks he had been shut up in this room and seen only the woman. She did not answer his questions until he realized that she did not speak English. He was still in France, a prisoner of whom? Gerard was worried then. Marianne was probably fretting over him by now and she did not need to be worrying over two people. He had a shackle on his ankle to keep him in place and his shoulder ached from where he had been shot when the soldiers had caught up with him just north of Marseilles.
“I am not permitted to tell you anything, Monsieur,” the old woman answered when he asked her in French where he was and why he was a prisoner. “I am to bring you food and tend to your needs only.”
“Enough, woman,” a man’s voice snapped from out in the hall. “His lordship is not interested in idle gossip. Tend your other charges.”
Gerard saw a very tall, very large man with small dark eyes come in. He was wearing a uniform that Gerard recognized. The man smiled as Gerard sat down, looking stunned. He knew where he was now. There was no denying it when he saw the uniform. The man bowed mockingly and pulled up a chair to face his charge.
“His Excellency was very pleased when you were caught, Lord Travers,” the jailor laughed. “He is most annoyed that you managed to get your wife away from him. He would have words with you and the lovely Marianne over the matter.” He nodded towards the food. “He has asked us to provide only the best of fare for you until the lady joins you.”
“Leave her out of this!” Gerard snapped. “She is where she belongs!”
“She is your wife, Monsieur,” the man laughed. “The Emperor wishes her to be here for your execution. Then he shall marry her off to one of his English agents; a man who will see to it she is kept under control.”
Gerard rushed the man and the jailor struck him over the head, laughing. He left Gerard lying on the floor with a sore head. Gerard heard the door being locked and he got up, groaning in pain. Marianne was not safe yet. He had to get to her and keep her safe. If she were returned to France, she would be forced to marry some odious sycophant of the Emperor; a man who would not treasure her as the precious and glorious woman she was.
Where was she now? He went to the windows and knew for certain he was imprisoned in the Bastille. Was she a prisoner even now? Or was she safely at Pumphrey Manor under the watchful eye of her uncle and aunt? He prayed it was the latter. The Bastille was no place for a pregnant young woman. He could not let them hurt his child or Marianne by carrying her off like a piece of baggage. But he was trapped here, shackled like a beast in a cell in the Bastille, and at the mercy of a man of mercurial temperament. He could just as likely be dead by evening if Napoleon grew impatient.
“Why so glum, Monsieur,” the jailor taunted him when he returned a few hours later. “You have the best accommodations, the best fare, and you will soon be presented with your pretty wife to keep you company.” He laughed as Gerard threw the stool next to the bed at him. “You should be grateful the Emperor intervened when he did. The original plan was to torture you for information. Our Little General refuses to allow such treatment. He does not wish to distress your pretty lady unduly.”
Gerard watched him go and wondered why it was so important to the Emperor that he remain alive. His rank in England was such that the Emperor could be in trouble with the English throne if they knew he was being held prisoner. Did anyone in England even know he was here? And just how had he come to be here? There were too many questions and he did not like that one bit. He sat down to dinner and frowned as he saw a slip of white in his loaf of bread. He looked towards the door to make certain he was not being spied upon and pulled it out. ‘Help is nearer than you think’ was written on it in big bold letters. Gerard heard someone coming and swallowed the note, praying whoever was coming would hurry before it was too late for Marianne.


Marianne looked around the pleasant room she had been occupied only a few weeks ago in the Travers town home and smiled. The journey had not been too terribly taxing. The drug the doctor had given her had kept her from being too ill and left her feeling wondrously calm. The chatter of her companions had seemed almost pleasant to her, instead of annoying after the two days were over. She knew it was the effect of the drug, but she didn’t mind. They were all just trying to take care of her and her child, after all. The door opened and Estelle brought in her breakfast.
“I was hoping to eat with the others this morning, Estelle,” Marianne frowned. She had been in this room for three days now and she wanted to be outside. She knew from Estelle’s expression that the decision had been taken from her already. “Oh very well,” she shrugged and laid back with a happy smile; “let them be overprotective. Right now I am content. If Gerard were here life would be quite perfect.”
“We are going to the dressmaker today, lazy girl,” Margaret laughed as she came in an hour later. “Estelle, bring something for your Mistress to wear. She has spent enough time in bed!”
“You are a godsend,” Marianne embraced her friend. “I am dying to be out in the sun. This room, though pleasant, is starting to suffocate me.”
“You’re feeling better, I see,” Dominique smiled as she came in just then. She saw the dress Estelle was bringing out. “Not that one, Estelle. Bring her something in a warmer fabric. It is raining today and we do not want her taking a chill.”
“You’re treating me like an invalid,” Marianne protested even as she laughed. “I am recovering, Domi.” She thought of her aunt Eustacia. “Is there any news of Aunt Eustacia?”
“She is doing well enough,” Dominique replied. “Yes,” she smiled as Estelle brought out a burgundy wool gown. “That will put some color into her cheeks.” She kissed Marianne on the cheek. “The carriage is already waiting outside. Don’t be too long.”
A half an hour later Marianne was settled in the carriage with a blanket around her legs and a muff for her hands. She shook her head and surrendered. It was obvious that her aunt and friend were intent on pampering her after her illness. The dressmaker had tea waiting for them and she was quite happy to see her favorite client again.
“You have been ill, I hear,” Desiree smiled and patted Marianne’s hand. “How terrible! You have missed all the best parties!” She looked to Dominique. “Rest assured, my lady; we shall have your niece looking like a queen!” She turned to Margaret. “Lady Margaret, it is good to see you again. Are your lovely mother and grandmother with you?”
“No,” Margaret told her friend. “I accompanied my friend, Lady Marianne, and her aunt on this trip.” She hooked her arm in Desiree’s and led her off a bit. “She is mourning her missing husband, Desiree; so we brought her to town to try to cheer her up. Being pregnant does not help matters.”
“I shall see to it that she is pampered to within an inch of her life, my lady Margaret,” Desiree nodded. She clapped her hands and her assistants were sent running for fresh fruit and cakes for the lovely ladies. Marianne was measured and then sat back to be shown fabrics and models of the latest fashions for pregnant women. They spent an enjoyable two hours in the salon and the carriage was piled high with boxes filled with hats and shoes and other accoutrements.
“It’s about time you got home,” Andrew snapped. He had been worried when they had taken so long. He was still recovering from nearly losing them both. “You have a visitor, niece.” Marianne turned to see Lord Anthony standing there. Beside him was a tall, pudgy man with a ruddy face and dark eyes. Something about his face was familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it. “You remember Lord Pertwee?” Marianne nodded. “This other gentleman is his associate. Lord Thornton is in charge of research and communications.”
“They have news of Gerard,” Marianne guessed. She suddenly felt quite faint and she had to sit down. “I’m all right,” she snapped as Dominique and Margaret fussed over her. She looked at the two men. “We are all family here. Please tell me.”
“Gerard was arrested near Marseilles,” Thornton said bluntly, “and has been the ‘guest’ of the Emperor for the past three weeks.” Marianne sobbed and held her hand up to her mouth. “He is being treated quite well from all reports.”
“But he is in a cell,” Marianne knew. She looked to Anthony. “He is being used to bait a trap for me, isn’t he? The Emperor wants me back.” She was on her feet. “Tell him he can have me back, only if Gerard is returned to England unharmed. I will leave once I recover from having my child.”
“We can’t allow that, Lady Marianne,” Thornton told her firmly. She looked at him in shock. “In this matter, Lord Travers is expendable.”
“Not to me, he isn’t!” Marianne cried in protest. She was on her feet, her fists clenched in anger. “You did this to us, Lord Pertwee!” she glared at the man. “If you were going to provide a husband for me you should have chosen someone I could not love.” She was running then, sobbing in despair. Margaret and Dominique went with her.
“She loves him,” Anthony sighed and looked worried. “She is the type who will take it into their head to act. We can’t have that Andrew,” he told his man. “Your niece will be taken into custody and Lord Thornton shall have the oversight of her.” They heard gunfire and the sound of women screaming. “What’s that?”
They ran upstairs and saw Marianne passed out cold on the floor. Blood was flowing down the side of her face and the window glass was lying all around her. Andrew picked her up and carried her to the bed as Dominique brought over a wet cloth. They watched as he wiped the blood away and saw only a graze. The butler was asked to summon the Doctor and he confirmed that it was only a graze. Andrew found the bullet in the wall and he dug it out and handed it to Pertwee.
“Put the house under watch,” he told the man tightly; “but she is to remain here. My niece has gone through enough distress in the past six months. Leave her a modicum of normalcy.” He looked over at Dominique. “My wife and I shall stay here with her,” Dominique nodded. He turned as Marianne grabbed his hand. “What is it, child?”
“D’arboe,” she whimpered as she felt herself passing out again. “It was D’arboe. I saw him at the window.” She went pale from the pain. “He was aiming at Dominique, Uncle and I pushed her out of the way.”
“Are all Macalesters so foolhardy?” Pertwee shook his head. He slid the bullet fragment into his pocket. “I will take this to the lab, and have a ‘hue and cry’ sent out for the arrest of Philippe D’arboe.”
Philippe made his way back to his hiding place and scowled as he saw who was waiting for him. His scowl turned to anger and alarm as he saw the gun. The man said nothing to him. The gun went off and Philippe died. By the time anyone came to look, the assassin was gone, and the gun left next to Philippe’s body. A note had been pinned to his back with a knife through it.
“So die all traitors!” was all it said.


Marianne was kept in bed for three days to recover from the injury she had suffered. The servants were even more attentive to her after that. She was ready to scream from the pampering she was receiving. She came downstairs with one of the maids carrying a shawl and another had a footstool ready once she was seated. She waved them off in irritation and Andrew saw her expression. He smiled and put down his paper.
“You have been invited to tea at the Thornton’s home,” he said simply; “I have taken the liberty of accepting for you.” She shook her head. “You cannot lock yourself away from people like this, Marianne. Gerard would not…”
“Gerard is not here, Uncle,” Marianne broke in coldly. “He is most likely on his way to the guillotine because of us.” She did not cry. She had decided it solved nothing for her to cry. Gerard was not here where he belonged. He should be here, her silent rant continued as she laid her hand on her abdomen. “Very well, Uncle. I shall go to this tea. Who else will be there?”
“Your aunt Dominique,” Andrew told her, “Lord Pertwee and his family, Lord Samuel and Lord Stephen, Lady Margaret, the Dowager Duchess of Ravenhold, the Lady Tremayne, the Duke of Ravenhold, and myself.” He saw her pale. “Are you all right, child?”
“I do not think I can bear spending time in those people’s presence, Uncle,” Marianne told him. “The last time I met her, Lady Gloriana was very nasty to me!” She looked at him with a brief spark of her former self. “Am I allowed to be rude to them?” He looked at her askance. “I can always claim it an effect of pregnancy,” she actually laughed at the thought. “I am told some women get quite emotional when they are pregnant.”
“You know better, child,” Andrew told her. He turned to the maid. “Your mistress will wish to change. Bring her an appropriate gown for tea with Marshwood and his family. Estelle can help her lady dress in the Study.”
“You are being very bossy, Uncle,” Marianne pouted. “Are you the one who told them to hover in the first place?” She saw him look away. “I knew it!” She looked at him in distress. “You must tell them to back off. I am being smothered with all this kindness.”
Andrew smiled and shook his head. She was showing a bit more of her former self and he was glad of it. He had begun to think she would allow herself to fall into a depression and wallow there. But then he had forgotten she had Macalester blood running in her veins. She would not wallow! She would come out of this fighting mad. He was certain that if she had not been pregnant she would have rushed to France to do battle for her imprisoned husband. Estelle arrived with a gown and took Marianne into the Study. Half an hour later, they were in the carriage and headed to the Thornton residence.
“Welcome to our humble home!” Lord Thornton smiled as they entered the immense structure. Marianne looked around at the austere ornaments and furnishings and shivered. This was not a home; this was a museum. Bernard held his arm out to her and she let him escort her into the gardens where tea had been set out. After several moments of greetings, everyone settled in and tea was served.
Margaret and Dominique were discussing fashion with Marianne when Gloriana came over. The woman took Marianne’s hand in hers and smiled sadly. “This must be a very trying time for you, dearest Marianne,” she said soulfully. “Having a child with your husband a prisoner in the Bastille!”
“Gloriana!” Her father snapped. “You were told not to bring the subject up. Thornton looked at Marianne. “I apologize for my daughter’s thoughtlessness.”
“I would prefer it not be danced around, Lord Thornton,” Marianne replied. “It is a fact.” She bit her lip to keep the tears from falling. “My husband is a prisoner of that vile Frenchman and I am unable to help him as I await the birth of our child.” She looked at Gloriana. “I am grateful for your concern, Lady Gloriana.” She looked to lady Thornton. “Might I lay down for a few moments, Lady Thornton? I am not feeling well suddenly.”
Hermione went into action and Marianna found herself lying on a bed in a Guest Room. The lady herself put pillows behind her back and had a glass of water with lemon brought. Marianne smiled at her gratefully. She was left alone with her maid, and Estelle was in a fine mood.
“I could have slapped her,” Estelle said to her mistress fiercely. “That little viper didn’t care one bit that she was hurting you.”
“She wanted to hurt me, Estelle,” Marianne sighed. “Doesn’t she have other people to be unkind to?” She let the tears flow then and found herself enveloped in the woman’s arms. “I don’t know how much longer I can stand not knowing if he is alive or not,” she cried as Estelle stroked her back. “I want my husband back!”
“Of course you do, my lady,” Estelle said softly. “But for now, that cannot be. You lie back now and rest.” Estelle kissed Marianne on the forehead. “We all pray he comes back to you, lady Marianne. Don’t lose hope.”
Marianne fell asleep and her worried mind was soon attacked by nightmare. She saw Gerard, his handsome face bruised and bloodied by beating, unable to stand as he was forced out of a cell and marched down a flight of stairs. He was forced into a wagon and tied to a pole roughly. She could almost feel his pain it was so real. The wagon was pulled through the streets and jeering people threw things at him. A rock struck him in the temple and he passed out briefly, only to be slapped back awake by a guard.
“No, please…” Marianne whimpered as the wagon stopped and he was pulled through the jeering crowd towards the guillotine. “You can’t kill him! Please,” she sobbed and tried to reach out to stop them. She felt someone holding her back as Gerard was forced to kneel. “Gerard!” She looked up at the man holding her and she screamed. It was the man who had hurt her mother, and he was no stranger. She knew this man. “Let me go!” she sobbed and turned back to see a coffin where the guillotine had been. He was lying inside of it covered in blood. “No! Gerard!”
“Wake up, child,” Dominique’s voice broke in. “It’s only a dream,” she said, as Marianne could not seem to stop crying. “Only a dream.”
“He’s dead, Domi,” Marianne sobbed as her aunt tried to comfort her. “They – they murdered Gerard! And the man who killed Mama wouldn’t let me help!”
“It was only a dream, Mari,” Dominique assured her. She stroked the girl’s back until Marianne quieted and fell asleep. “Only a dream.”


Gerard woke up slowly after the beating he’d been given. The guards had not said a word to him when they had come. They had merely grabbed him and started to pound on him. He heard a door open and someone coming towards him. Then a hand clamped around his throat and he struggled to open his eyes. He could not believe who he was seeing standing over him. It was not possible for him to be here!
“You have been behind this all from the very beginning,” Gerard moaned as pain coursed through his arms and legs.
“Of course,” the man nodded and laughed. “I had set it up so that pretty Marianne would be mine, but you had to interfere.” He looked at Gerard coldly. “You and that insufferable Macalester.” He tightened his hold. “You are going to be executed in the morning, Travers, and your lovely widow will need someone to comfort her. Your child will need a father…”
“You will never have my family!” Gerard snapped. “Someone will realize what you are! Then you will suffer…” He choked as his tormentor tightened his grip. When he recovered from the attack, the door was closing behind the man. Gerard struggled to get up, his mind locked on one thought. He had to warn someone. But moving sent fresh pain shooting through his body and he was falling.
He heard the door open and saw a man fall in front of him who looked remarkably like – him! He was helped out of the room and down the stairs. He saw coffins all around him and he was laid inside one and given a dose of something that sent him spiraling down into the dark. Quinlan frowned as he saw the condition Gerard was in. He tied him securely and put the gag in the young man’s mouth, and then helped Bradley nail the coffin lid on. Moody and Percy moved in to help them pick up the coffin and carry it to the waiting wagon. Cameron was at the reins.
“We have to hurry,” Quinlan said as he got up next to Cameron and the others mounted their horses. “News of his ‘death’ will arrive before we do.”
The five moved off with their charge and headed north towards Calais. It would take them several days to arrive there and the hours were precious now. Andrew and Pertwee had sent them on this little errand when it became obvious the King’s requests were going to be ignored. Napoleon had been adamant, their French agents told them, that the Earl of Strathmore be executed. They had also heard he had an English agent who would move in on the grieving widow and make her marry him. All the work they had done keeping Marianne and her property safe would be undone if that occurred. Despite their wishes, the weather turned nasty and it grew obvious that their journey of only a few days would be much longer than they had hoped.


Marianne woke up from her nap and wondered where Estelle was. There was a different woman sitting with her, clad in dark gray and wearing an apron and cap. She started to get up and the woman pushed her back and shook her head. This was not right, Marianne’s mind revolted. She shoved the woman off of her and went to the door. It was locked. She turned back towards the woman.
“You’re to stay here now, my lady,” the servant told her. “Your uncle thought it would be best.”
“He would not make such a decision,” Marianne said firmly, “without discussing it with me first!” She backed away as the door opened and tried to get past the person coming in. “Let me out of here this instant! I am going home!”
“You are remaining here, dear lady,” Walter Thornton smiled at her coldly. He took her arm and shoved her down onto the bed. She watched the servant leave. “You will listen, girl, and not interrupt.” He could see the fire in her eyes and he was quite pleased. “You have been turned over to my father’s keeping, and he has turned you over to me!” His hand went up as she started to protest. “As long as you do as you are told,” he continued once she quieted, “your dear husband will be remain alive.” He sank down on the bed next to her and reached out to stroke her hair. She pulled away from him and he yanked her back, glaring down into her angry eyes. “You want him back, do you not?” Marianne nodded. “Then you will do as I say, little lady.”
“I will not let you use me!” Marianne protested. He slapped her across the face and she glared up at him as her hand went to her cheek. “Your father can’t have meant you to abuse me, Lord Walter.”
“He is off to the Continent with Mother and my sister,” Walter laughed at her. “They are doing the Grand Tour and will not be back for several months. So you see, my lovely lady,” he laughed as he pushed her back against the mattress, “you are mine to do with as I will. Fight me,” he said as she struggled to free herself, “and your darling Gerard will be tortured.”
“You can’t be serious!” Marianne protested and tried to push him off of her. He yanked her to her feet and knocked on the door. “Where are you taking me?” she whimpered in pain as he forced her down the corridor. He went to a door around the corner that was guarded and the man let him in. She saw her aunt Eustacia sitting by the window. “Aunt!”
Eustacia held her as she sobbed in reaction to their situation. Walter left them to it for a moment and then yanked Marianne back and tied her wrists behind her back. He held her as a man approached Eustacia. “You wanted to know if I was serious, girl?” Walter laughed as his hand cupped her breast. “Watch and see.”
“Don’t hurt her,” Marianne sobbed as the man slapped Eustacia across the face. He shoved Eustacia to the bed and put a pillow over the struggling woman’s face. “No! Please don’t…”
“We have to in order to show you we mean what we say, my pet,” Walter laughed as he held her close. “This,” he forced her to watch as Eustacia was smothered, “is all your fault.” Marianne shook her head and whimpered in protest. “Oh yes, my lady. It is!”
Eustacia finally stopped fighting and she slipped into unconsciousness. Marianne screamed as Walter dragged her out and he merely laughed. “No one can hear you, precious,” he laughed as he shoved her back into the bedroom she had woken up in. “Everyone is off for the evening.” He took her to the window and she watched as her aunt was taken away. “She will be found dead in her bed at your town home. Everyone will think she had died in her sleep.” He turned her to face him and saw the tears flowing. “Now come here,” he laughed as he yanked her close. “I want to see if those lips are as sweet as I have imagined they would be.”
Gerard arrived at the town home and found Eustacia in her bed and she was so still he feared the worst. But she had a pulse, and he sent Lawrence for the doctor. Andrew arrived with Dominique and they were both glad to see Gerard alive, but Andrew was fuming. He sent Cameron to send a message to the Thornton estate to inform Marianne that her aunt was dying and needed her to come immediately.
“My poor Marianne!” Gerard cried in despair. “What more does she have to suffer before this is over?”
“Our agents tell us that Napoleon means to give her to one of his English agents,” Andrew informed his junior officer bluntly. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to stay dead a little longer, Gerard.”
“I’m not going to go into isolation while my wife is used as bait to trap some traitor!” Gerard protested. “Andrew, please…”
“We’re not asking you stay in isolation, boy,” Andrew replied. “You and the sergeants are going to London in disguise. Lord Pertwee is expecting you at his home. He will explain the rest of the plan.”
“You know who is coming after her!” Gerard snapped. “You have to tell me, Andrew! We can’t waste any time…”
“We have suspicions, Gerard,” Andrew broke in. “Nothing concrete.” He laid his hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “If you want her safe, boy; you need to trust us. Go to Pertwee now. He’ll be the lead on this mission.”
“You’re not coming, sir?”
“Those bastards left the Baroness nearly dead,” Andrew said. “Dominique and I will stay with her until she is stronger.” He nodded towards the door. “Go now!” The men left and he went upstairs to Eustacia’s room. Dominique was sitting at the bedside. “How is she doing?”
“The Baroness is not going to survive this, Lord Macalester,” the doctor, who was on the other side of the room closing his bag, said sadly. “I’m afraid she only has a few hours of life left.” He looked stricken. “I’ve done what I can to make her comfortable. I suggest you lie to her and tell her that her niece is safely home. Make her last hours contented ones.”
“We Pumphrey,” Eustacia sighed as she opened her eyes, “do not condone lies.” She grabbed Dominique’s hand and looked at Andrew. “Promise me you will get her back home safely, Andrew, and I will die contented.” Dominique sobbed and Eustacia patted her hand weakly. “Don’t cry, Dominique. I had a long and productive life.”


Marianne was kept in the bedroom with the shutters locked. She was given something to eat and drink but then she was left alone again. Walter was quite pleased with himself as he came to join her a few hours later. She steeled herself for another of his foul kisses but he remained where he was. For two days now, he had kept her locked up in this room, with only an occasional visit to remind her who was in charge. He would kiss her and slap her if she fought him and she was growing quite tired of being kept like a pet.
“I received confirmation, my pet,” he said to her. “Dear aunt Eustacia is no longer among the living.” Marianne sobbed and brought her fist to her mouth. “You are, of course, too fragile and distraught to attend her funeral.”
“You didn’t have to kill her,” Marianne snapped at him.
“I wanted you to see how far I will go to keep you, my dear,” Walter laughed at her. “You are my property now, dear Marianne. I expect you to do as I say from this moment on.” He laid his hand on her abdomen. “If you disobey me, your child will be the next of your loved ones to go.”
“You’re a monster!” Marianne sobbed and moved away from him. He yanked her back. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“Money,” Walter said bluntly. She looked at him in anger. “As desirable as you are, my sweet lady; this has always been about money.” He cupped her chin in his hand. “Your mother refused me when I offered for her after your Papa died. You saw me that night and I decided that I would have what I wanted through you.” His thumb ran across her lips and he felt her shudder. “Strathmore is dead now, my lady; so you will marry me.”
“I don’t believe you!” Marianne spat at him. “Even if it were true, I would die before I would let you touch me!”
“Your death is not an option,” Walter laughed at her. “The baby first,” he moved his head back to her abdomen. “Then dear Uncle Andrew and Aunt Dominique. After them, we’ll start on the villagers. I believe you are especially fond of the former Widow Larchmont and her daughter?” He watched Marianne go pale. “So many innocent people would die, my lady; just because you don’t want to remarry.”
“I don’t want to marry you!” Marianne snapped at him. She cried out in pain as he slammed her up against the wall, his hand on her throat. “I hate you!”
“I do not require affection from you, Marianne,” Walter laughed as he released her; “only obedience.” He felt the carriage slowing and he pulled out a handkerchief and gagged her. Then he pulled up the hood of her cloak. He untied her wrists and bound them in back of her. The door opened and a man yanked her out. “Careful with our little Baroness, gentlemen. We would hate for anything to happen to her child before it is born.”
Marianne was hustled into the house too fast. She did not see anything of the surrounding countryside or the building itself. The interior told her exactly where she was. The monster had brought her to the Travers town home in London. He meant to force her to accept him as her husband in the home she had shared with Gerard! Walter took her upstairs and cut the bonds on her wrists. A woman was waiting in the master suite for her.
“Estelle!”
“Oh yes,” Walter laughed as his captive ran to the maid. “I forgot to mention my other hostage. Perhaps Estelle will go before the child?” He heard Marianne whimper and knew he had made his point. He looked at the maid. “Your mistress is to take a nap, woman. It was a long journey and she needs to rest.” He looked at Marianne. “Dinner will be in three hours. I expect you to join me downstairs. We are having important guests.”
Three hours later, Walter came to collect her. He escorted her downstairs and she saw the table filled with guests. She recognized most of them. They were people she had met in Paris when she had been Napoleon’s prisoner. Except for one notable exception. Marianne met the cold eyes of the Duke of Ravenhold as she was seated at one end of the table. He was seated to her left.
“I see you finally have her, Thornton,” the Duke raised his glass to Walter. “Do you really think you can keep her?”
“We have come to an understanding, my lord Duke,” Walter said as he laid his hand on Marianne’s abdomen and looked into her eyes. “The Baroness is aware of the consequences if she does anything to displease me.” Walter shrugged and went to his seat at the head of the table. “Every last servant understands that she is not allowed out of this house unless she is in my company.”
“You appear to have thought of everything, Lord Walter,” Henri D’Arbanville smiled at him tightly. “But I would not underestimate her friends and family. They will not rest if they believe she is being harmed…”
“She will be writing them a little note, Monsieur,” Walter laughed; “asking them to leave her alone. She is feeling smothered by everyone’s concern…”
“That is something her family and friends would believe of her,” the Duke nodded. He saw Marianne glare at him coldly. “I don’t like that she’s seen us, Thornton. If, by chance, she did manage to escape, she could tell her friends who we are…”
“Marianne will not remember this dinner ever took place,” Thornton told them. Marianne looked at him sharply and then noticed him looking at her empty glass. “She has taken a little drug, you see that will completely wipe her memory of the past half hour.” He dodged as Marianne threw the glass at him. “Morgan,” Thornton called his man. “Take the Baroness up to her rooms now.”
Marianne slapped the man who yanked her to her feet and he slapped her back. She fought him every step of the way as he got her upstairs but was soon too weak to do more than shake in anger. Walter came to her and sent Estelle away. He locked the door and took her to bed, enjoying the thought of the girl as his captive. She could not fight him enough to make him stop as he took what she would never have given him if she had not been drugged. When he was through, he dressed and let Estelle back into the room.
“Protest all you want, my sweet lady,” Walter laughed as he heard her sobs; “it changes nothing. You are mine now and will remain so until the day you die.”


Three months went by and Marianne was beginning to feel that she would never be free of the bastard. He made her dress in somber colored clothing, she was mourning her husband after all, and paraded her around London on his arm. He was the very image of an attentive friend seeking to lighten the heart of a grieving friend. He did nothing in public that was not proper for such a relationship; he saved his assaults for the town home. She still tried to fright and he took to whipping her where no one could see the marks. It did nothing to lessen the pain. He threatened Estelle and Marianne quieted and quit fighting. Estelle was dear to her and she would do nothing to jeopardize the woman’s life or liberty. She was eight months pregnant now and she was uncomfortable enough without being whipped on top of that.
“We are going to the theater tonight, Marianne,” Walter told her as he came in to find her in tears. She was wearing a blue silk robe and nothing else. He only allowed her clothing when they were going out of the house. He grabbed her wrists and yanked her to her feet. “You’re thinking about him again, aren’t you?”
“I love him, Walter,” Marianne snapped at him. “The fact that you have turned me into your whore does not change that.” He shoved her onto the bed and she tried to run. He yanked her back and forced himself on her roughly.
“I’ll send Estelle in to get you ready now, pet,” Walter laughed as he yanked her head up. “You’ll be downstairs in half an hour or I’ll come back up to get you.”
Marianne struggled to her feet and he nodded and left her alone. She went to the bath and Estelle came in to find her on her knees, sobbing. The woman put her arms around her mistress and held her a few moments. Then she helped Marianne dress in a dove gray gown and brought over the rubies Eustacia had once worn. Seeing herself seated there wearing jewelry that her beloved aunt had worn brought about another storm of tears. She was just rising to accept the black silk shawl when Walter burst in.
He dragged her downstairs and out into the waiting carriage. They went into the theater and he sat her down in a private box. Marianne could see a lot of people she recognized in the boxes and seats. But she was not allowed to speak to them unless Walter was there to monitor the conversation. He sat down and put his arm around her shoulder. She saw him smiling gently at her and knew they were being watched. She ignored him and paid attention to the play. But that wasn’t as easy as she hoped. He had taken her hand in his and was running his thumb up along her wrist and palm slowly and gently.
“I could make you so happy, Marianne,” he said as he leaned close to her, as if he were discussing the play. “Stop fighting me, sweet…”
“I will never stop fighting you, Walter,” Marianne hissed and then began to whimper in pain as he tightened his grip on her wrist. “You’re hurting me!” He did not let up and the pain was more than she could bear. “Walter, please…”
Suddenly the pain was gone. She looked at the man and his face was pale, his eyes cold and hard. She started to follow his gaze and he yanked her out before she could see what he had. It was time to take her out of town, he decided. He would only keep her under control as long as she believed that bastard to be dead. But how was he here? He had been assured that Travers was dead. England believed Travers to be dead. And yet he had been there in the crowd with his wife’s uncle glaring up at him.
“We will be leaving for the coast in the morning,” he said to Estelle as he shoved Marianne into the bedroom. “Have a case packed for your mistress.” He glared over at Marianne and she wondered what he had seen to cause him to bolt like this. “Just a few day dresses and her night wear, Estelle. Your Mistress is going into isolation now, and won’t be seeing a lot of people.”
Marianne watched him leave and jumped as he slammed the door. Something was happening that had scared her tormentor. She began to smile and saw that Estelle was feeling the same hope. If he was scared enough to run, then someone important was chasing him. Marianne touched Estelle’s hand.
“It has to be tonight, Estelle,” she said simply. She saw her maid hesitate. “I’ll be fine. He is not going to harm me…” She saw the woman sniff. “Not any more than he has. He needs me alive.” She grabbed Estelle’s arm, pleading with her now. “Please, Estelle. You need to get me help. I am not having Gerard’s child around this monster.” She winced as her back began to cramp. “Ow!”
“Your back again?” Estelle asked.
“It’s been bothering me all day,” Marianne nodded. She went white as the pains increased and spread. “Estelle,” she whimpered. “It can’t be!” Estelle helped her out of her gown and had just set it aside when Marianne’s water broke. “Estelle!”
“I’ll get someone to call a doctor,” Estelle assured her. The woman ran out the door and hit Walter. “She’s having the baby, my lord,” she said simply. “She’s not going anywhere tomorrow.” She tried to continue on and he grabbed her arm. “She needs a doctor, Lord Walter.”
“No, she doesn’t,” Walter laughed. “I’ll bring some laudanum for the pain.” Estelle hesitate and he slapped her. “See to the lady, woman!”
Estelle watched him storm off and then she headed down the back stairs. Walter was not going to take care of her lady Marianne. It was up to Estelle to find someone who could help the girl. She slipped out the back and headed towards the Macalester town home. She had nearly made it when a carriage came galloping down the street and ran her down as she crossed. The screams brought Andrew running with his men. They got Estelle into the house and called for the doctor.
“Don’t waste time on me,” Estelle whimpered in pain. “The lady is having her baby and the bastard won’t call a doctor. He’s intent on moving her to the coast tomorrow.”
“He could kill them both moving her now,” the doctor frowned. “You have to stop him, Lord Macalester!”


The pains were increasing now and Marianne wondered where the doctor was. Walter came in with a bottle in his hand and she tried to back away from him. But the pain hit and she fell to her knees sobbing. He gave her a dose of laudanum and the pains eased only slightly. Then he picked her up in his arms and carried her to a waiting carriage. A woman was waiting there to see to her care. Walter handed her the vial of laudanum.
“You’re to keep her quiet, woman,” Walter said simply. “Once we get to the coast, she can scream all she wants.” He turned to his men. “The maid got out. They could know where we were headed.” He stroked Marianne’s cheek. “Yes, my dear lady,” he laughed at her. “You heard me correctly. We sent your woman out with false information.” Marianne whimpered in protest. “Your would-be rescuers will be heading to the coast.” He knocked on the carriage roof. “Get moving, we have a man to meet.”
The carriage moved out of London and Marianne was locked into the pain. She was terrified at the thought of her child being born where Walter could get his hands on him or her. She couldn’t let it happen. So when they stopped along the way, she mustered as much strength as she could and shoved him away. Then she stumbled off into the trees lining the road and went as quickly as she could. Her feet went out from underneath her and she screamed as she fell.
“Are you trying to kill the girl, Thornton?” the Duke hissed as he arrived at the rendezvous point in time to see Marianne fall. He had Walter taken into custody by his men and rode down to where Marianne was lying unconscious. He dismounted and picked her up in his arms. “You poor child,” he crooned as he carried her back up the hill, leading his horse along. “Don’t worry. You’re safe now.”
Marianne was lost in pain as the carriage pulled into Tremayne Manor. She was carried upstairs and the family doctor summoned. The duke and his children did what they could to help the man and his nurse as they tended the injured girl. Robert wondered why his father was not summoning her family. Surely they should be here to support her while she had her children. He slipped away with Hugh and told him what he needed to do. Hugh was only too glad to be of service to Marianne and her family. For the next seventeen hours Marianne struggled through the pains of her injuries and the labor. She began to hallucinate as the fever set in and she saw her Mama’s murderer leaning over her.
“She’s as fine as she can be,” the doctor told them all; “given the accident.” He saw their worried faces. “Lady Marianne is a fine strong woman. She’ll survive…” He paled as he saw who was coming in the door. “Lord Travers!”
“How is my wife,” Gerard snapped as he went to sit next to Marianne. He picked up her hand and she looked up at him weakly. “Marianne, my love. I’m here.”
Marianne sobbed and clung to his hands as the pains struck again. Gerard would not be moved and even if he could Marianne was not letting go of him. Three hours later, she gave birth to twins, a fine healthy boy and girl. She fell asleep then and Gerard remained at her side. He smiled weakly as the Duke’s children brought him food and checked up on Marianne and the children. He had almost lost her again. It was time he took her someplace no one could harm her or their children again.
“When she’s strong enough,” he told the Duke when the man came to check up on his guests; “we will be going home to Strathmore. The property on the coast will be turned over to the Crown, as it should have been before this all began.”
“I’m afraid we can’t have that,” the Duke said to Gerard ad he raised the gun. “Marianne will believe she was hallucinating you, Strathmore. You are going to some friends of mine. They have a lot of questions they wish to ask you.”
“You can’t do this Ravenhold!’ Gerard protested as he was forced away from his wife. “I must remain with my wife!”
“Don’t worry about your pretty wife,” Ravenhold smiled at him nastily. “My son will take good care of her for you.” He looked over to the corner of the room to where Robert as tied into a chair with a gun to his head. He was gagged as well and struggling to free himself. “Won’t you, Robert?” Robert pulled at his bonds and cursed his father for a black-hearted villain. “He’s always admired Marianne. Once he’s undergone a little behavior adjustment, he will be quite happy to take her as his wife once you are gone.” He looked at his men in the doorway. “Take our lord Strathmore and turn him over to our friends. They are to use whatever methods they will to loosen his tongue.”
Gerard was forced downstairs and out to a waiting carriage. He saw D’Arbanville and his wife inside and he cursed and fought as he was shoved inside. D’Arbanville tossed a coin purse to the Duke’s man and the carriage took off. It stopped just out of sight of the manor house. Gerard glared at Andrew as his friend and uncle came to join them.
“Pertwee was correct,” Gerard snapped after he had down the whiskey he was handed. “Ravenhold is up to his ears in this mess. He is holding his own son hostage and plans to drug him to accept Marianne as his wife once I am dead.” He looked at Andrew. “Congratulate us, Uncle. Marianne gave birth to a son and a daughter, both quite healthy.”
Andrew nodded and sent up the signal flare. An hour later, the Duke of Ravenhold was taken into custody and Gerard was back with his family. Robert spent the next half hour showing the authorities the records his father had been keeping on his treasonous activities. Pertwee took the records when he arrived, but no mention was made of the Duke’s involvement. The Duke died of ‘natural causes’ and his eldest son Robert was elevated to his father’s rank. The first thing he did was to go to London and start a hunt for a suitable bride.
Gerard and Marianne took their children to Strathmore and spent the next several years happily ensconced in the family estate. When they finally came out of hiding seven years later, they had two more children, another boy and girl born separately. Despite the fact that she was a mother of four, most of the ton agreed that they had never seen a lovelier woman in their lives. Happiness and motherhood suited her.

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 11.01.2010

Alle Rechte vorbehalten