Page 132 of The Duke's Dream
The floorboards creaked under her feet as she shifted her weight nervously.
In one swift motion, Gaetan clasped Montfort’s hand. Her unrepentant brother grinned while he shook hands with England’s most ruthless spy! Helene pushed away from the wall, rubbing her arm. She looked from the Viscount to her brother, her mouth agape. What was going on? Did he know who her brother was?
Gaetan gave a paper to Montfort, who pocketed it in his black coat.
What could it be? Before she could ask what sort of transaction could exist between her brother and this villain, Montfort pointed at her with his chin.
“Next time you require my favor, find a sister who is easier to protect.”
Helene gasped. “Protect? You’ve threatened and bullied me to—”
“The Horse Guards are on your heels, Wagram. I cannot guarantee your safety if you don’t leave tonight.”
Oh, they were friends. The cunning man who persecuted her was Gaetan’s friend. They were in league all this time.
“You two are well fit for each other. Why don’t you take him back to France?”
She replayed their interactions, now under this new light. Montfort hadn't actually threatened her, did he? She had assumed, because of his cryptic words and William’s rage at the masked ball, that Montfort meant her harm. Shame crept to her cheeks, and she glared at the two culprits.
Montfort laughed, elbowing Gaetan. “Good luck with her.”
Her brother grinned back, and after a vigorous shake of hands, the Viscount left.
Gaetan caught her wrist and tugged. Helene planted her heels firmly on the carpet, resisting.
“You heard Rodrick. I’m a general in the Emperor’s army. What do you think will happen if they catch me? Do you want to see my limbs scattered across this dreadful city? You know how I hate the cold.”
Helene shook her head numbly, hugging herself. Everything was happening too fast. “Why did you come?”
Gaetan caressed her cheek. “To take you back, of course.”
“Why now? I’ve been alone for years, and—”
“I’ve been busy reclaiming our estates, Puce.” Gaetan rubbed his forehead with his thumb, like he did when they were children. “I’ve restored our mother’s chateau. You have something to return to. I thought you’d want to go home.”
A wave of longing washed over her, a deep ache for her family and the past she’d left behind. Of course, she missed it.
Helene sighed, closing her eyes. There was no escaping the truth. “I’m in love.”
“With a man who wants to make you his mistress?” Gaetan’s voice was laced with pity.
Helene hated seeing her relationship with William through someone else’s eyes. Gaetan didn’t know him—didn’t know how good, honorable, and noble he was. It wasn’t William’s fault he had obligations.
Her brother embraced her, his breath ruffling her hair as he kissed the top of her head.
She buried her face in Gaetan’s chest, inhaling his familiar scent. “How do you know this?”
“Miss Louise Bonnechoix enlightened me. She packed a bag for you. For the crossing. I’ll buy you a new wardrobe when we get to Paris.”
He took her hand again.
Helene hesitated, her thoughts a whirlwind.
Footsteps sounded behind them, somewhere in the gallery. Her vivid imagination conjured a brigade of Horse Guards, converging on them from all sides.
“I need to leave, Helene,” Gaetan’s voice became urgent. “If I go without you, I may never come back.”
***
