Page 85 of Miss Desirable
“You won’t sack us?”
“I won’t, but I’m apparently to be married within the week, so consider my clemency for what little it’s worth.”
Nevin gave her a puzzled look. “Means a fair bit to me to be given a second chance. Will mean a lot to Ma as well.” He strode off toward the stable, his step uncharacteristically brisk.
Catherine took the packet of letters to the library, where she intended to at least sort through them. Instead, she stared at the cold grate and wondered if there was any place on the entire earth where a mother and daughter could be safe from the child’s father when he was bent on menacing the people he was legally bound to protect and cherish.
A graveyard, perhaps. She batted that thought aside rather than give way to hysterics.
Stay busy, Mama had often said.Occupy the hands, and the mind won’t wander as far afield.Catherine took up the stack of letters, noting that the first was an invitation to a duchess’s card party. An invitation she would have rejoiced, not long ago, to receive.
The second was… a simple note with a plain seal, the penmanship a precise, elegant hand.Safely returned. Biding with friends. Bertold longs to renew his acquaintance with Miss Franny on the next suitable morning.
Heaven forfend.Fournier intended to meet her in the park, and she would be there—with Fortescue Armbruster at her side. Catherine barely made it back out to the garden before she was sick all over the blooming myrtle.
CHAPTERSIXTEEN
The equine Bertold was in great good spirits, while Fournier was exhausted. The crossing from Bordeaux to London had been swift but rough. Worse yet, Ablesdorf had been standing on the quay in Bordeaux, looking formidable and determined, as Fournier’s sloop had glided from its berth.
The news in London as reported by Sycamore Dorning was discouraging. The special license had been granted and delivered. Armbruster was making a regular pest of himself to Catherine, and Kettering’s every demand at the negotiating table had been met with cordial assent.
Such agreeableness meant Armbruster was certain of Catherine’s complicity after the marriage with whatever schemes he had for her money. Matters were dire indeed.
And yet, when Fournier caught sight of Catherine upon Franny, his heart leaped.
“Is that her?” Marie whispered, sitting up straight where she perched before Fournier in the saddle. “Is that—?”
“Oui.” Fournier continued in French. “She is not expecting you to be with me, so remember what we talked about.”
“Je me souviens, monsieur.” So solemn, probably as her mother had been solemn from a young age.
Fournier made sure his reinforcements were in their appointed locations and then sent Bertold on a path to intercept Catherine and her escort.
“Mademoiselle Fairchild,bonjour.” He tried for his charming émigré smile and probably failed miserably. He was simply too delighted to behold Catherine again. “My lord, good day to you.”
“Fournier.” Armbruster’s horse danced a few steps to the side. “I thought you had disappeared to France.”
“I am back, as you can see, and I have brought home with me this most darling child, who has been parted from her family for far too long.”
Catherine sat upon her mare, to all appearances in command of her usual gracious reserve. Her gaze lit upon Marie, though, and stayed there.
Armbruster hauled on the reins until his horse ceased fretting. “You brought that child back from France? From Cahors?”
“We sailed from Bordeaux, didn’t we,petite mignonne?”
“Oui, monsieur.”
“That is not your child,” Armbruster said. “That cannot be your child.”
Fournier had explained the situation to Marie, as best one could explain adult foolishness to a child, and she had appeared to understand what was needed. She twisted in the saddle to send Fournier a questioning glance.
Right. They’d had a plan for this outing, and he was missing his cue.
“Armbruster, my wife and I were blessed with a daughter, as is known to all. The French document these things with relentless exactitude. My affection for this child must be obvious to the very birds of the air. Perhaps you have been going short of sleep.”
“You need a nap and a snack,” Marie said in slightly accented English, “and your horse does too.”
“Be quiet,” Armbruster snapped. “Children should not speak unless spoken to.”
