Page 36 of Unmasking the Silver Heiress
"Maman!" the younger Dempierre hissed, gathering up her ruffled skirts and marching over and tossing a conspiratorial smirk at Nell. "You mustn't rush at strange men like that!"
"Oh, be quiet, Gigi," she crooned, making no move to release Nate from her grasp. "I rocked this man to sleep as an infant and bandaged his knees as a boy. Do you not remember me, little Nate?"
"I must disappoint you, madam," Nate said with an apologetic smile, despite the strange tinge of familiarity that had tugged at his chest the moment he'd entered the room. "I fear I remember very little of my childhood. I take it we were acquainted?"
"Acquainted!" Mrs. Dempierre scoffed, dropping her hands to her sides and taking a step back. "Why, your mother and I were as close as sisters. I knew you all the days of your life." She frowned, clearly displeased by the lack of recognition, and then lifted one pale shoulder, giving a little sigh. "You will remember in time. I am sure of it."
"I certainly hope so," Nate answered, his posture relaxed and his expression friendly, despite the cacophony of alarm sounding off within him. "In absence of my faulty memory, may I request introductions until such a time as my senses return to me?"
"Oh, of course, of course." She nodded, beckoning her daughter to her side. "I am Lady Therese Dempierre, erstwhile Comtesse and exile. This is my daughter, Giselle. We live on the other side of the white cliffs, at our English estate." Her face brightened, and her hands came clapping together. "Yes! You will surely remember it all once you've seen La Falaise. You loved to play there as a child!"
"I am certain you are correct," Nate said with a little bow. "I am, of course, Nathaniel Atlas, and this is my wife, Eleanor. I understand she became acquainted with Lady Giselle in the city yesterday?"
"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Dempierre," Nell said softly, stepping forward and giving a slight curtsy, which made her spectacles slide down again, caught by the upturned tip of her nose. "If we had known you were coming, we certainly would have prepared a finer reception."
"Oh, it is no matter! No matter at all! Gigi was telling me how delightful you were and when she said the name Atlas, I insisted we set out immediately and discover if Nathaniel had come home, at last."
"She did," Lady Giselle confirmed, her eyes still locked on Nell. "I wanted to ensure an ongoing acquaintance regardless, so I was rather pleased by her enthusiasm."
"You did?" Nell replied with obvious confusion.
It made Gigi Dempierre's lips curl up like a cat's. "Of course! If I am your friend, then perhaps you will sometimes lend me some of those fabulous gowns. You cannot fault my logic."
Her mother darted a quick, baffled glance over Eleanor's current clothing and pressed her lips tight together.
"We are in the process of opening up a house that has been closed tight for a decade," Nate said smoothly. "My wife and I have been making a morning of exploring, so, as you can see, we are not quite as presentable as you might otherwise find us."
"Nonsense, nonsense," Lady Dempierre insisted, waving her hand as though she could bat away ideas like summer flies. "You are perfect as you are. My daughter wishes to spend some time with your lovely bride. Perhaps you might indulge me in a tour of the house before it is reinvented? I have many fond memories here."
"It is hardly presentable for visitors, Lady Dempierre," Nathaniel said, suspicion beginning to weave its way through his thoughts.
"I do not mind, truly!" she insisted, stepping forward to take his arm as though the matter were already determined. "I have missed this house so very much."
He glanced at Nell, who gave an almost imperceptible nod, as though she wished him to accept the request. If she had something to gain by being left alone with the daughter, then perhaps it was worthwhile. He put on his gracious face and allowed the lady to take his arm. To his wife and Gigi Dempierre he said, "Please excuse us for a moment. I will return your mother to you shortly, though I cannot promise she will be free of dust."
"She's always a little dusty anyhow," Gigi replied with that feline smile, and Nate gave a short laugh rather than admit that he wasn't entirely sure what she meant.
Lady Dempierre heaved a sigh as they stepped back out into the foyer, clinging to his side as she gazed up and around the rooms.
"Is there any particular room you wish to see?" he asked politely,
"There is a portrait of your family somewhere here," she said, tilting her head up to meet his eyes. She looked remarkably like her daughter, still beautiful despite her age, and somehow wearing the slight wrinkles about her eyes like ornamental gems. She appeared very practiced at the art of batting her eyelashes to get things she wanted. "Do you remember sitting for it? It was right after Alice was born, about half a year before ..." She trailed off, blinking at her line of thought and releasing his arm to step away for a moment.
"Are you well?" Nate asked, though his heart was racing too.
She brushed her fingers under her eyes and along her cheeks, giving a tremulous laugh and shaking her head, making the silk petals in her hair tremble. "I am sorry. I haven't cried over what happened in so long, but being here again, it all feels so fresh. I should not come here and bring sad memories onto your head, nor should I let myself become so rattled on a social call. Forgive me."
"There is nothing to forgive," Nate assured her, though he was not yet sure that was strictly true. "I remember the portrait. My father gave me one of his medals to wear and I had to sit still for so very long."
She gave a sudden smile, those cheeks of hers rounding into perfect, pink apples. "Yes! Do you know where it is? I confess, after the house was abandoned, I have often thought of it, lost here in the dark, and wished I could have it for my own. Now that you are home, you must hang it proudly for all to see. I have so missed their faces, Nathaniel."
He was too stunned to reply, and perhaps it was for the best, for he was not sure what response would have been most tactful. He blinked at her for a moment, trying his hardest to find her in the rubble of his memories. There was something about her that was so familiar, but he could not grasp it.
"We haven't found it yet," he confessed. "When we do, I will certainly invite you to view it. Hopefully it has been covered all this while. I should like to see it as well."
"Yes, I hope so as well." She looked at him carefully, as though she was searching his face for some clue as to the portrait's whereabouts. When she spoke again, her voice was more level, cooler. "Have you yet opened the cellars?"
"No, not yet," Nate replied. "Do you think it is down there?"
