The Price of Innocence (The Legacy Series) (28 page)

Suzette’s heart pounded as she watched the nightmare of deception spill from Robert’s lips. Her only conclusion was that he was embarrassed to be seen in public with her, and extremely horrified to introduce her to a family member. Hurt, she inhaled a deep breath, and exclaimed, “Lord Holland, you didn’t tell me you had a sister.” She looked at Marguerite and curtsied. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Marguerite eyed her with disdain. “Robert, why don’t you be a dear and go get us a drink, will you? I’m parched.”

“You don’t need a drink,” Robert complained, knowing she had intended to corner Suzette alone for a few moments. “Find your Lord Chambers to wait on you.”

Marguerite sensed her brother was not about to budge and give her the pleasure of talking to the woman alone, so she relented. “Oh, very well then. I’ll leave you alone with your lady friend,” she sighed, disappointed. She looked at Suzette and sneered. “It was nice meeting you.”

Marguerite reached out, straightened her brother’s ascot with her hand, and then patted him on the chest. “Don’t be a stranger, dear. Come home soon. Daddy misses you.”

Marguerite departed, and Robert sat back down sickened over the unexpected exposure of his private life to Suzette. “Sorry about that.” What else could he say? He didn’t wish to discuss the matter of his family with her, so he returned his attention to the next race hoping to God she would let the matter pass.

The races ended, and the carriage ride home was one of tense silence between its passengers. Suzette said little, and Robert seethed with anger. The chance encounter with his sister had been poor timing. He felt cornered. Suddenly, a part of his life had been uncovered, which he wished to remain hidden from Suzette. Her displeasure with him was obvious, when her demeanor remained less than attentive.

When they arrived at the cottage, Madame LeBlanc met them at the door and took Suzette’s parasol and hat. Suzette immediately begged to leave.

“I’m extremely tired, Robert, and I’d like to retire . . . alone.”

She turned to go upstairs, but he stopped her and pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry. You have every right to be upset with me.”

Suzette wished to resist his touch, but she found herself laying her head on his shoulder instead, sighing over his apology.

“There are things about my life I have not shared with you, Suzette, and you have been gracious enough not to pry. My life is very complicated when I am away from London. I have duties and a family that you know very little about.”

Suzette raised her head. “Am I also a duty that you attend to, as well, Robert? Just another matter you take care of when you’re here in London?”

“You are not a duty,” he protested. “I adore you. You know that.”

“Perhaps,” Suzette said, pulling away from him. “But for how long will you adore me, and do I have any kind of future with you? You treat me like your mistress and not like the woman you love.”

Robert’s countenance fell, and his silence answered her question.

“I must go, Suzette. I’m sorry, but as my sister mentioned, I’m due back at our estate in Surrey again.” He lowered his eyes, unable to look at her directly. “Unfortunately, I will be gone much longer this time, but I’ll contact you as soon as I return.”

“How long?” Suzette demanded.

“A few weeks.”

He pulled her back into his arms and kissed her pouting lips. At first, he felt a resistance that bruised his heart. Then, as he persisted in his passion, Suzette melted into his arms and returned his kiss with the same ardor as his own. When he finished, he glared at Madame LeBlanc, who had been standing off to the side watching the entire encounter.

“Next time, I’d prefer privacy,” he said, clearly irritated at the woman’s intrusion into their personal moment.

Robert left, and Suzette began to cry after the door closed. She turned around and looked at Madame LeBlanc, who displayed the usual smug expression.

“Don’t you dare say another word,” Suzette hissed. She stormed up the stairs, slammed the door, and hid in her room for the remainder of the day.

Chapter Twenty

  The weeks passed painfully slow, and Suzette received no word from Robert. Daily, she tortured herself about the incident at the racetrack, questioning whether she was simply his mistress and nothing more. She loved him, but seeds of doubt had burrowed into her heart. Anguished over the thought she was merely a sexual rendezvous for his pleasure when in London, bred recurring fears he would one day leave.

When he was away, Suzette spent the days idly trying to entertain herself with her empty hobbies, which had become painfully tiresome. She carefully tended her garden of lilies that were the symbol of hope she would find ultimate happiness. Up until that moment, Suzette thought she had. It seemed the weeds recently discovered in her flowerbeds were trying to tell her something. They were like dreadful omens threatening her contentment. She forcibly pulled them out, digging at their roots tenaciously until she was sure their invasion had been fully eradicated.

When her gardening did nothing more than to upset her, she retreated to her parlor for a cup of tea and thought about grabbing a book. Mindless reading often helped to take her mind off of Robert. It was obvious that today she desperately needed a reprieve.

She snuggled into her favorite chair and opened to the chapter where she had left off. Since her arrival in England, she had become acquainted with female English authors that wrote sublime love stories. They all seemed to have happy endings where women married the men they loved, in spite of obstacles or class differences. If it could happen in a storybook, Suzette believed it could come to pass for her, too.

Madame LeBlanc entered the room interrupting her at an interesting scene, and Suzette snapped at her intrusion.

“Yes? What is it?” The startled look upon her maid’s face made her feel awful, and she immediately apologized. “I’m sorry.” She despised the woman, but it wasn’t an excuse to treat her poorly. Madame LeBlanc handed Suzette a note.

“A courier just delivered this for you, Mademoiselle. That is all.”

Suzette reached for the envelope, her heart racing, thinking it was a letter from Robert. Her countenance fell as she recognized the all too familiar penmanship.

“Thank you. Leave me now.”

Suzette broke the seal and pulled out the letter. Slowly opening it, she braced herself for Philippe’s words. She hoped he had forgotten her, but it was apparent he had not.

My Dearest Suzette,

I have these long weeks, since I found you on the London streets, kept my distance. After we parted, I returned from furlough and have resigned my commission with the French Navy. It was well overdue. Afterward, I took residence in a small flat in London, purely with the hope that you would allow me to see you again.

May I have the honor of your presence over lunch and perhaps a subsequent stroll in the gardens along the Thames? I assure you that I will respect your privacy and treat you, as I have since the day we met, with the utmost respect and love.

I will procure a table for two at the Beauberry House at noon tomorrow. For your convenience, I have hired a carriage to arrive at your residence at eleven thirty. If you do not arrive by the noon hour, I will know you refused the transportation and decided not to attend. In that case, I will have a leisurely lunch by myself and understand that you do not wish to see me at this time. I cannot promise you, however, that I will not try again to entice you to lunch in the future.

I do hope you will find it in your heart to give me a few moments to enjoy your presence and catch up on old times.

Fondest regards,

Philippe Victor Moreau

Suzette folded the paper, her hands shaking from emotion. A few moments later, she reopened it and read it again, trying to decide what to do. His penmanship was so reminiscent of the letter written years before, which he posted from some exotic land during his voyage with the French Navy. Suzette had missed him terribly.

Each night, she had carefully opened the letter and read its contents before returning it back to her hiding place for safekeeping. When she burned it at the Chabanais, she did so because her hopes and dreams of one day being his wife died—only ashes of the past remained. Then, as fate dealt its hand, Robert arrived and filled the void in her life, and she gave her heart to another.

Suzette sat motionless for a while, pondering his request. She rationalized that if she did not agree to see him, he would relentlessly pursue her until she gave in. Philippe loved Paris, and to take a flat and remain in London was quite unlike him. No doubt, he was scheming to win her back, and Suzette wanted to dissuade him as soon as possible. Surely, one lunch and a walk in the park would be a harmless activity, so she decided to dine with her former fiancé to put an end to his fanciful dreams.

* * *

Philippe arrived at the historic Beauberry House and requested a secluded table away from the bustle of patrons. Led to a table for two that met his requirements, he ordered a glass of Chardonnay to calm his nerves.

For weeks, he toyed with the idea of leaving Suzette alone. However, when he read the announcement in the news the day before, a glimmer of hope returned to his broken heart. His adoration for Suzette had not waned. They grew up as childhood sweethearts, and Philippe’s love was as strong as the cords that bound the anchors of the ships he sailed.

He joined the French Navy on a whim in his youth, hoping to make his fortune, so that he could one day return and marry his beloved Suzette. For years, he sailed the seas, writing letters as often as possible and posting them at various ports throughout the world.

He had done well and been promoted to Lieutenant, which gained him a modest income that was enough to start a life with the woman he loved. Upon his furlough and return to Paris, to his heartbreak, the only thing that greeted him was an abandoned apartment and a woman who disappeared off the face of the earth.

Philippe painstakingly attempted to trace the trail of Suzette, only to find spotty information from her landlord. Fortunately, he was able to tell him the name of her neighbors who helped her shortly after her father’s death. They left a forwarding address in Rouen, and Philippe contacted them by mail, but only received sketchy details in return.

His first clue was the Daughters of Charity, who referred him to a washhouse that led to a dead-end trail. No one spoke a word, except to say that Suzette had been fired and was never seen or heard from again. Called back to duty, they had docked ship in England, when by the grace of God, he found Suzette on the streets of London.

To Philippe, it was nothing short of a miracle to find his beloved, and he considered it an answer to prayer. The only thing standing in his way to regaining what he lost was her obvious benefactor, Lord Robert Holland. He tried not to despise the man but found it difficult. For the past weeks, he had done his own investigation into this mysterious lord who held Suzette in his clutches. It was obvious Holland did not intend to marry Suzette and only kept her for sexual favors, which sickened Philippe to no end.

Philippe wanted Suzette back in his life, and he was determined to forgive her for whatever transgressions she had committed out of desperation. His burning desire to rekindle the love in her heart and woo her back to his side drove him each day to wait for the right moment. It seemed as if it had arrived.

He took a sip of Chardonnay, and when he glanced up at the entrance he saw her arrival. He put the glass down and stood to his feet. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The girl he had loved since childhood was now a woman. Adorned in a burgundy satin gown that swirled as she walked, she looked like an angel from heaven. When she reached his side, she smiled warmly, and his heart melted at the sound of her voice.

“Hello, Philippe.”

“You came.”

“Of course, I came, silly.”

He grinned when he remembered her childish phrase of calling him
silly
whenever she teased him.

“I couldn’t very well ignore your invitation, now could I?” she spoke sweetly.

Philippe helped her to the chair and then sat across the table. His countenance glowed at the sight of Suzette sitting only a few feet away. He felt tongue-tied and didn’t know where to begin. He picked up the menu and glanced at the cuisine while he regained his thoughts.

“Have you been here before?” Suzette asked.

He peeked over the top of the menu and answered. “No.”

“The food is quite good, actually. I’ve been here once with—” Suzette abruptly stopped her words, and Philippe finished her thought.

“With Lord Holland, I assume,” he said, quietly trying not to sound irritated.

“I think I’m ready to order,” she said abruptly.

The air became tense between them, and Philippe regretted his last comment. He placed his order after Suzette, and they handed their menus to the waiter. He took a sip of Chardonnay and was surprised that Suzette only ordered tea, silently congratulating her on the composure that he obviously lacked.

“Please,” Suzette pleaded, “tell me about your tour of duty on the Pacific during the campaign. I read articles in the news and thought of you and often prayed for your safety.”

His face grimaced. “We were fortunate. Our voyages were mostly fair-weather. The China Coast and the seas around Formosa are quite beautiful but different from anything I’ve ever seen. The Sino-French conflict is not something I wish to share with a lady,” he added reluctantly. “I still struggle with my own nightmares from the atrocities my eyes beheld.”

“Oh, I am sorry, Philippe. I don’t think I’d care to hear about the horrors of war myself,” she confessed.

The waiter interrupted, placing a pot of tea and a cup and saucer in front of Suzette. Watching her delicate hands pour the steaming liquid into her cup, he couldn’t help but express his thoughts.

“You look wonderful, Suzette—even more beautiful than I remember when we last met.”