Jack glanced at Violet and then at Richard. “That was a genuine request. Our grandmother did know Madame in her youth.”
Richard inclined his head. “Then Madame will see you tomorrow night at Knowles House for dinner.”
“Thank you.” Jack hesitated. “Considering everything else, that is most gracious of you.”
“Considering that you
failed to mention
that your twin was an old, supposedly dead lover of mine,” Richard glared at Jack, “you should be on your knees thanking me.”
Jack licked his lips. “I'm quite happy to get on my knees for you.”
“Oh, for God's sake, you can stop that act right now,” Richard said.
“What act?” Jack glanced at Violet. “Tell him I'm speaking the truth.”
“As if I'd believe anything that came out of her mouth,” Richard muttered. He suddenly felt weary of their lies, of the very sight of them. “Shall we adjourn this discussion until tomorrow night?”
“You don't intend to kill us, then?” Jack said.
“You are not amusing, Jack, and your sister is officially already dead.”
“Then if you don't intend to dispose of our lifeless bodies, we shall take ourselves off.” Jack held out his hand to Violet. “Come on, love.”
She didn't take his hand and he shrugged and started for the door. Richard waited as Violet slowly followed Jack and then hesitated right in front of him.
“I didn't know that you would be here tonight.” She glared at Jack's departing back. “My brother didn't mention it.”
Richard held her gaze. “As I said, why should I believe
you
?”
Her skin flushed. “I did know that you were connected to the pleasure house, and I
did
want to speak to you, butâ”
Richard placed two fingers over her mouth. “And I don't want to speak to you. I need to think on this.”
In truth, he wanted to take her back to bed, strip her naked, and fuck her until she begged him to stop. And if he did that, she'd have won. He couldn't allow himself to be led by his prick again. He wasn't the young man who had fallen in love with a stranger. Her supposed death had changed him too profoundly for her return to mean
nothing.
He slowly removed his hand from her trembling mouth. “Good night, Vincent.”
“Richard, I . . .”
He turned and walked away, knowing that if he didn't, he'd never be free of her again.
5
V
iolet refolded her cravat and pinned it neatly in place. “There, I think I look quite respectable.”
They had gathered in Violet's bedroom at Harcourt House to await their carriage to the Delornay-Ross household. Sylvia, Violet's “mother,” came forward to inspect Violet, her blond head angled to the side.
“Hmmm . . . you look like a very pretty man,
Violette
. Not as pretty as your brother, though.”
“We all know that my brother should have been born a girl. Some say he fights like one too.”
From his seat by the fire, Jack looked up. “Are you still angry with me, sister dear?”
“Of course, I am.” Violet allowed Sylvia to help her into her tightly fitting blue coat. “You put me in an extremely difficult situation.”
Jack got up and stretched. “So difficult that you immediately fucked each other? I'm not a fool, Violet. I could smell him all over you.”
“It wasn't like that. He was . . . very angry with me.”
Jack swung around, all the humor drained from his face. “Did he hurt you?”
“No, but he wasn't exactly a tender and considerate lover.” Violet sighed. “But who can blame him? It's not often that a woman you thought you saw die comes back from beyond the grave.
Jack grinned at her. “I almost wish I'd seen his face when he spun you around and found out it wasn't me.”
Violet shivered. “It wasn't very pleasant.” And it wasn't just anger she'd seen on Richard's face. There had been far deeper emotions there, too; emotions she feared had mirrored her own visceral reaction to him.
“I wish I could return to being a woman and just forget this stupid masquerade,” Violet muttered.
Sylvia shook her head. “You cannot do that. There is too much at stake. Your very life may depend on it.”
“She's right, Violet,” Jack added as he checked the arrangement of his cravat in the mirror. “You need to remain incognito until we find out exactly who is trying to blacken our characters and have us killed.”
“I'm just tired of it all, Jack. I want to stop running.”
Jack walked up to Violet and took her by the shoulders. “I told you, if everything goes well, we should be able to make our home here in England and live out the rest of our lives in peace.”
“And if it doesn't go well?”
“Then we'll be dead and beyond worrying about anything at all.”
Violet cupped his cheek. “You are incorrigible.”
His smile was sweet. “I know.” He placed his hand over hers. “If you don't want to see Richard Ross again, you don't have to attend this dinner. If he inquires, I'll explain
exactly
why you are absent.”
“You will not.” Violet searched her brother's face. “I have no wish to avoid him at all.”
“After what he did to you?”
“He did what you had primed him to do, and he did offer me a way out before he took me.”
“I find that hard to believe.” Jack looked skeptical.
“He asked me to tell him the truth.” Violet grimaced. “I pretended not to understand him. He was quite clear about what the consequences would be if I chose not to answer him.”
“So you let him fuck you.”
Violet raised her chin. “It seemed the less dangerous option.”
Jack put on his gloves. “He could have made it
far
more dangerous. He could've beaten you to death.”
“But he didn't.” Violet felt herself blushing as she relived the moments when Richard Ross had been inside her, his fingers on her clit, his cock pounding her arse. . . . “Even in a towering rage he was remarkably considerate.”
“And you like a
considerate
man, don't you?” Jack handed over her gloves and cloak. “Let's be off, then. I'm quite anxious to meet Madame Helene. Aren't you?”
He offered his arm to Sylvia and they walked out of the bedchamber ahead of Violet. With a sigh, Violet followed. She was tired of being Vincent Lennox. She wanted to look as charming as Sylvia in her pink satin evening gown with blond lace.
But Jack was right. Violet put on her hat and pulled on her gloves. If they didn't sort out this mess, the next garment Violet would be wearing would probably be a shroud.
Â
“Do sit down, Richard dear,” Helene murmured. “You are causing a draught.”
Richard paused in his pacing to stare at his stepmother, who was sitting at her ease in the drawing room of Knowles House. She looked as beautiful as ever and far too relaxed for Richard's liking. Philip sat opposite her, and Emily and Christian shared the loveseat.
Emily still looked rather distracted. When Richard had arrived, he'd intended to sit beside her and find out what was wrong. Unfortunately, Christian had taken the seat beside Emily and remained there ever since.
“Oh,
Maman
, leave Richard be. Can't you see how anxiously he awaits our guests?” Christian asked. “One might think they held a very special place in his heart.”
Richard glared at Christian. “Don't you have a business to run?”
Christian smiled. “I've left my wife and Ambrose in charge tonight. I hardly think I need worry.”
“More's the pity,” Richard grumbled. He could only hope that Christian would become bored of baiting him and leave, but even he doubted that would happen.
The doors into the drawing room opened, and the butler came in and bowed.
“My lord, may I present Mrs. Sylvia Lennox, Mr. Jack Lennox, and Mr. Vincent Lennox.”
Helene and Philip rose and advanced toward their guests, leaving Richard with plenty of time to view the new arrivals before he had to step forward and greet them. The twins were dressed identically in dark blue coats, black trousers, and silver-gray waistcoats. Both of them were smiling at their hosts and seemed incredibly at ease.
“Well, well, well,” Christian murmured in Richard's ear, making him jump. “I do believe I am smitten. There really are
two
of them. I wonder if they ever share their lovers?”
Richard tried to move away, but Christian followed him. “Maybe you should ask Jack if he would consider it, Richard.”
“I will do no such thing.”
Christian's smile held more than a hint of wickedness. “Why not? I've fucked twins before and it is quite enjoyable.”
“You are a degenerate.”
“And you are the heir to a title, and thus above such things, I suppose?”
Richard ignored Christian and stepped forward, his hand outstretched to shake Jack's.
“A pleasure to see you again, Mr. Lennox.”
He turned to Violet and shook her hand too. “A pleasure.”
Jack touched his sleeve. “Indeed, Mr. Ross. May I introduce you to my mother?”
It took Richard but a moment to decide that whoever Sylvia Lennox was, she definitely wasn't related to the twins. She looked far too young to be their mother. Perhaps she had agreed to give them her name in return for some favor he had yet to discover. Lord Keyes might be able to help him with that. In fact, Richard was looking forward to meeting Keyes again. He had the distinct feeling that he had been deliberately given this assignment, and that his old adversary already knew damn well who Vincent Lennox really was.
“Mr. Ross, I have heard so much about you.” Mrs. Lennox smiled charmingly at him, and he bent to kiss her gloved hand.
“And yet I have heard almost nothing about you,” he countered lightly. “How can that be when your beauty demands attention?”
She laughed, her brown eyes dancing up at him. “One's children rarely recognize one's attributes, do they?”
“Not having any children myself, I cannot argue the point.”
Beside Richard, Violet cleared her throat. “
Maman
, I believe Lord Knowles is waiting to take you in to dinner.”
Mrs. Lennox looked around. “Oh, so he is.”
Richard bowed. “We shall speak more after dinner.”
“Indeed, we shall.”
Richard watched as Mrs. Lennox walked across to Philip and he held out his arm to her.
“Your mother is very beautiful,” Richard said.
“Yes, she is.” Violet sighed. “As is yours.”
“Helene isn't my mother.”
Violet glanced up at him. “I'm sorry. I didn't realize. Have I offended you?”
“Helene is Christian's mother. They are quite alike. We only share the same father.” He nodded at Emily, who was talking to Jack. “Emily is my full sister and I have two other half sisters who are both married.”
“Your family sounds almost as complicated as mine.”
“Most families are. Your mother, for example, seems rather young.”
“As does Madame Helene.”
Richard glanced down at Violet's composed face. She betrayed no hint of concern at his questions. A reluctant admiration twisted his gut. She had always been calm in the face of adversity.
Richard gestured toward the door, and he and Violet followed the others into the smaller of the two dining rooms, which seated the eight of them in perfect comfort. Jack took a seat next to Emily and managed to bring a smile to her face, for which Richard was grateful. Was Emily still pining over Ambrose? It seemed likely. Richard wondered what else could have happened to make her look so preoccupied.
The servers brought in the first course, and Richard turned to Violet with a determined smile.
“Are you looking forward to your first London Season, Mr. Lennox?”
Â
Richard waited until Philip closed the doors before taking his seat. Emily had remained with the charming Mrs. Lennox in the drawing room, and everyone else had adjourned to Philip's study. Philip sat behind his desk and Christian perched on the side of it. Richard had taken a seat next to Helene by the fire so that he could study the Lennox twins, who sat opposite his stepmother.
Helene nodded at Jack. “I understand your grandmother believes she knows me.”
Despite her conversational tone, Richard noticed that Helene's hands were twisted tightly together in her lap.
“Yes, madame,” Jack answered. “She was held in the Bastille for a while. I understand she met you there.”
“It is possible, I suppose.” Helene shrugged. “There were many people who came and went.”
Jack hesitated. “My grandmother was brought in to . . . service the guards' needs.”
Helene raised her eyebrows. “You mean she was a whore like me.”
Philip cleared his throat. “You were scarcely that, my dear.”
“Yes, I was a whore, Philip. There is no point in denying it.” Helene sighed. “What was your grandmother's name?”
“Jeanne.”
“And what did she look like?”
Jack looked down at his clasped hands. “She said you might remember her because you saved her from being badly burned. Her face and her hands were still scarred, which is why she was cast out of the Bastille.” His expression twisted. “I suppose after her disfigurement she was no longer of interest to the guards. She always believed her expulsion kept her alive.”
“That is true, not many women in our circumstances lived very long.” Helene drew in a quick breath. “I do remember a Jeanne. She was a lot older than me and, unfortunately, very popular with the guards.”
“My grandmother also said to tell you that your friendship made each day bearable, and that she has never forgotten your indomitable spirit.”
“Oh . . .” Helene brought her hand up to cover her mouth.
“Helene!” With a soft exclamation, Philip came out from behind his desk and rushed to his wife's side. When Richard realized Helene was crying, he shot to his feet and offered his chair to his father.
Philip sat down, wrapped an arm around his wife, and held her close. He offered her his handkerchief, which she took and used to dab at her eyes.
“I'm sorry, madame,” Jack said softly. “I didn't mean to upset you.”
“I am not upset.” Helene raised her head and looked at Jack. “I am glad you told me about your grandmother. I am delighted that she survived. Does she ever visit England?”
Jack glanced at Vincent. “I don't think so, madame. She is rather a recluse. That is why she asked us to convey her message to you instead.”
“And I am unlikely to visit France. I am too afraid.” Helene dried her eyes and sat up straight. “Would she allow me to write to her?”