Page 12 of The Duke's Price
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De-Ath arranged for the two women to have dinner in their room, Walter said when he accompanied the meal to the door. He told them his master was organising transport for the morning, and sending letters with instructions to move his yacht and those of his people who had headed into Spain. “He thinks Don Carlos might remember where the yacht was moored, ma’am,” Walter told Ruth. “Moving it will make it harder for the man to find us.”
When Ruth opened the door to Walter in the morning, he ushered in a maid with breakfast and reported, “Mr. De-Ath’s compliments, ladies. He asks you to take whatever time you need this morning. He and I will be ready whenever suits you.”
“We did not have much packing to do,” Bella told De-Ath a short while later, when they were settled in a comfortable carriage and on their way to the next town. “Ruth and I shall need to go shopping, De-Ath. Or should I call you ‘Papá’?”
Ruth found herself sharing an amused smile with the unaccountable man.
“De-Ath will do,” he said. “I hope to reach Toulouse tonight. I am certain that city will have shops to supply suitable clothingand other items for a wealthy merchant’s ladies.” He turned questioning eyes to Ruth. “If we are delayed on the road, will you be able to manage for one more night?”
“We will,” Ruth assured him.
“Why not ‘Papá’?” Bella enquired. “Do you feel too young to have a daughter of nearly fifteen, De-Ath?”
He didn’t allow Bella’s impertinence to ruffle his equanimity. “I know I am old enough to have a daughter of your age. I do not, as it happens.” He grinned. “At least, as far as I know. But I do have a son, Bella. My heir, the Marquess of Lockswell. He will be twenty-five this year.”
“Goodness!” Bella said what Ruth was thinking. “You cannot have been more than a boy!”
De-Ath laughed outright at that. “Are you asking my age, young lady? I am three and forty, and yes, that means I was married at the age of seventeen.”
“You are a widower, then,excellensia? De-Ath, I mean?” Bella asked.
Ruth should really remind her that such personal questions were impolite, but Ruth also wanted to know.
“These twenty-three years. And that is enough, senorita. No more questions.”
He started telling them a story about his last trip through France, making an amusing tale of being chased out of town by burghers who had been treating him as one of their own until a Frenchman he’d met in London recognised him as the Duke of Richport.
When that episode had reached its end, with a lucky escape thanks to a sympathetic barmaid, Walter mentioned another escape, this time in Greece, and that led to a further tale and then another, so that Ruth was surprised when they rolled into a village and stopped at an inn for the first change of horses.
“It is very hard, Ruth,” said Bella when they had a private moment while the men were busy. “To lose his wife when he was not yet twenty. I wonder that he has not married again. Perhaps he loved her very much, and cannot bear to see another in her place. Perhaps that is why he is a rake. Do you not think that is possible, Ruth?”
Ruth thought it was more likely he had been a wicked youth, and that his wife had died of a broken heart. Ruth was going to take it as a warning.Don’t let his charm, his storytelling and his kindness fool you into thinking he is a good person.
He reinforced the lesson repeatedly over the course of the day, letting his hand linger as he helped her in and out of the carriage, or ushered her through a doorway at one of the inns they visited on the day.
He found other ways to touch her that were not so innocent, such as resting his leg against hers as they travelled, stroking her fingers when he handed her a cup of beverage or a glass of wine, even lifting her hand to kiss her fingers when he introduced her to one innkeeper as, “My cherished wife, Madame De-Ath.”
He was attempting a seduction—right in front of Bella and Walter. Furthermore, annoying though it was to admit it—shaming, too—it was working.
Ruth was responding to him.She might not realise it, but Perry did. Physically, the signs were obvious, but emotionally, too, she had softened towards him as he told his stories, ably supported by Walter, who had been with him through it all.
He had not intended to mention Lockswell or the young man’s mother. He never spoke of them, but Bella’s faintly hostile attitude, at first amusing, had begun to grate. Clearly, Ruth hadtold her pupil what the price was for his assistance, and she was indignant on her mentor’s behalf. Polite, but ever so slightly scornful. When she mocked his age, he had responded without thinking.
If he was not mistaken, the fact he’d been a widower for more than half his lifetime had softened the girl’s attitude, though he had not been seeking her pity. No doubt she’d invented a whole romantic story about the poor duke grieving for the love of his youth.
What would she think if she knew the truth? What would Ruth think? She would probably pity him more than ever—yes, and despise him too, the weak innocent ignorant creature he had been, a dupe of his uncle and his faithless wife.
There was a reason Perry never spoke of the youth he had been and the mistakes he had made.
Ruth, he was pleased to note, did not take it on faith that he was a pitiable widower, pining for his long-dead wife. She was warier than ever. Whatever she thought of his personal revelations, she was not allowing it to overwhelm her good sense.
It was already too late for her, did she but know it. He had her hooked, senses and emotions. Only by the most careless of mishandling would he lose her now. And Perry was far too experienced to mishandle a seduction.
He had already planned the next step, and when they arrived in Toulouse, he set about putting it into action. Once again, they walked to another inn after leaving the hired carriage and team. Perry ordered a suite of their best rooms, and it was perfect—three bedchambers, a single dressing room, and a shared sitting room, which included among its furnishings a dining table. The bill had used up almost the last of his gold, but tomorrow he would sell a couple of jewels and they would be in funds again.
Since Bella clearly knew that Ruth had agreed to be his lover, he did not have to disguise the sleeping arrangements, so he assigned Bella to the middle-sized room, Walter to the smallest room, and him and Ruth to the largest. Bella opened her mouth on what was, by her expression, going to be a complaint. Ruth waved her to silence.
