Page 72 of A Night of Secret Surrender
‘Lian swears you never reached Italy. Madame Debussy is one of his godmothers and he made it his business to ask her.’
‘Where did he say I went?’
‘To ground. To hide. He said you were thin and sick and brittle when he saw you last and that he imagined you were now dead.’
She turned away from the light and reached into her pocket, plainly annoyed by his words.
‘If Guy Bernard comes, shoot him. He won’t give you the chance to make a second escape.’ A pistol he had not seen before sat in the palm of her hand. A beautiful piece inlaid with some shell that glistened in the light.
‘I’d forgotten just how brutal you were. Are,’ he amended.
‘There’s more at stake now, Major. Much more.’
‘More than even life or death? Now, that is intriguing.’
‘It is my duty to protect your back if you will not do so.’
He laughed then, her words so very ridiculous. ‘If you are discovered in my bedchamber, Miss Fournier, it might be your reputation that will need protecting.’
‘I don’t have one. It was lost years ago.’
‘In England you are the granddaughter of a woman who garners much in the way of authority and respect. I doubt she would agree with your assessment and believe me when I say that young women are forced into marriage on much less a count than being alone in the bedroom of an unattached male.’
‘But you are not that, are you? Unattached?’
‘Says who?’
‘Everybody I speak to. Thetonis expecting the announcement of your nuptials to a woman of impeccable credentials any second now.’
‘You speak of Miss Smithson?’
* * *
The name jabbed into her heart, piercing her bravado. So it was true, all she had heard. This was not going at all as she had imagined it. Loring’s welfare sat in the wings of jeopardy and she needed Shayborne safe. Safe to be a father to him.
For the first time ever she felt distanced from Summerley Shayborne, her actions in Nantes and Paris leaving her caught in his disapproval and censure.
‘It is none of my business, of course.’ She tried to imbue some sense of apology into the retort.
‘You are right, it isn’t.’
At that she swallowed and was silent, the quiet stretching on between them into more than a few moments. Finally, he seemed to have enough of it and stood to pour himself a drink. He did not offer her one, though when it looked as if he might cross to her side of the room she flinched. He must not touch her. Her body was different now, changed, and a man of detail such as he would notice. As if he recognised her reticence, he moved back.
‘Go home, Celeste, to wherever that might be. I do not need you here.’
‘I can’t.’
‘Why?’
‘There are things I have to tell you, things you do not know.’
‘Start talking, then. I am listening and this is surely as good a time as any.’
Crystal Smithson’s name sat in the room alongside his anger and irritation. Aurelian de la Tomber was there, too, with his hatred and his ruined face. But above them all, Guy Bernard lingered for it was only because of her that Shayborne was being hunted. Again.
It was not the right time to throw Loring into the mix, she thought, her beautiful perfect son who only needed to be loved. So she stood and straightened her jacket.
‘I will be here on the morrow, watching over you, and for as long as it takes to know you are safe.’
