The Rake and the Recluse REDUX (a time travel romance) (44 page)

Hepplewort shrank. The force of Gideon’s statement and the power of his voice had stayed him entirely. He appeared to gather his wits. “Of course, Your Grace. My—my behavior today has been irrational. I did not sleep well last night. I’m not accustomed to rising this early. I, I—” He stuttered as he attempted to find other excuses to lob at the brothers.

Perry and Gideon relaxed slightly. “My lord,” Perry said, “I understand how this news would be unwelcome, and perhaps we should have handled it another way. I believe we both wanted to notify you as promptly as possible, considering the letter you sent to M. Larrabee concerning Madeleine. We should not have made the assumption that this was merely a business matter, and for
that
alone
I beg your pardon.”

Gideon had no interest in smoothing things over with the earl, and kept his opinions to himself.

“I appreciate your candor, my lord. I suppose I shall send the document to my solicitor and that will be the end of it. However, I will reserve judgment until I hear from him.”

The brothers looked at each other and left.

“There’s something I have no interest in ever doing again,” Perry said as the carriage was underway.

“Yes, well, unfortunately, we have two more such visits yet to make on our return.”

Perry leaned back, putting his hat over his eyes, stretching his long legs out in front of him with his feet on the opposite seat as he tried to relax before the next stop.

“I am not content with leaving the situation unfinished,” Gideon said.

“Neither am I, Rox, but until Francine is safely married to you, we cannot pressure him further. You must be patient.”

“Who is the next sod?”

Perry looked at the paperwork. “Ringolsby.”

“Good God, I have had drinks with the man.”

“Well then, perhaps I shall leave this one to you,” Perry said with a grin.

Gideon growled and leaned back in the squabs next to his brother, feeling rather unsettled and weary.

Francine lazed about the town house for the next two days, reading her books and wandering around. She finished
Dante’s Inferno
and studied her book of manners. She found the rules of the peerage particularly fascinating. She had no idea Gideon, as the duke’s progeny, had been bound by such a definitive set of rules. She could certainly empathize more in relation to his constraints, and had a greater respect for his will and morals than she had before. She finally understood what he meant when he spoke of the importance of propriety.
But it still doesn’t necessarily mean I am going to follow it
.

She considered the things he’d said, the actions he took while they were in the maze, and she blushed.
No wonder he got a hard-on from an exposed ankle,
she thought with a wicked blush.

She tried to find new places to read, as if the change in setting would help to pass the time, but running into Sanders always unsettled her. Her favorite spot was the gardens, because the stodgy old butler seemed to shrink from the light like a three-day-old petunia.

She wanted to explore Gideon’s study, or his bedroom. She wanted to touch his things, look through his drawers, smell his shirts. She sat up straight from the bench in the garden, then bolted without thinking. She ran up the stairs to his suite, looking around carefully; there was nobody in sight. She ducked into his bedchamber and pulled the door closed behind her.

She turned and took quick stock of the room—chairs, tables,
bed
. Her breath caught and she forced her gaze to continue. Closet
.
She smiled and ran to it, throwing the doors wide. She ran her hand over the row of jackets and shirts, all perfectly straight, well-spaced, and neat. She pulled one of the crisp white shirts down from the rod, trying to shift the other shirts to conceal the missing garment.

Francine held the shirt to her face and inhaled deeply, but was disappointed. She frowned. The cloth didn’t hold his scent, of course, since he hadn’t yet worn it. She shrugged and turned.

“Hello.”

She dropped the shirt.

“Gideon, I—”

He laughed. “Francine, if you are in need of clothing, you have only to ask Carole. She would be more than happy to accommodate you.”

“I, um, no. I just—” She squeaked as he approached her.

“You just what?”

She stared up at him, looming over her, and took a deep breath to steady her nerves, but instead she found what she’d been looking for and smiled. She pushed his jacket off though he began to protest, and she quelled the sound with one finger across his mouth. She unbuttoned his waistcoat and loosened his cravat before unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it from his trousers and over his head. She took the shirt and held it to her face, breathing deeply of his scent. Sandalwood, spice, and a touch of salt. She smiled broadly and picked up the clean shirt and pushed it toward him.

“Thank you,” she said as she rushed from his room, leaving him standing there, shirtless.

Francine was sitting in the garden reading when Gideon walked out. “There you are,” she said.

“Sorry for the delay. I only wanted to, uh, freshen up.”

She smiled up at him brilliantly, then noticed the others behind him.

Perry was followed by two young ladies she could only assume to be the sisters. They rushed to her, squealing and hugging and jumping, a veritable vibration of energy.

Francine stood to greet them with a touch of panic. The sisters were obviously speaking French, but she didn’t understand a word of it. She thought back to her high school French class.
One more thing I should have paid better attention to
.

“
Un moment, un moment, s’il vous plait
?” She tried to calm them. She searched her memory, trying to remember the names that Gideon had mentioned, but couldn’t. She shook her head, looking to him for help.

He walked swiftly to her side. “Amélie, Maryse,
assez-y-vous
.”

Sitting immediately, they folded their hands in their laps and stared up at the duke.
Like twin robots
. If Francine looked shocked, her expression paled in comparison to Trumbull’s, which was one of pure terror. She relaxed instantly as she gazed at him, laughing and drawing all the attention to herself, which she immediately regretted.

She covered her mouth with her hand.

Gideon glanced at his brother and grunted. “Well, Trumbull. How are you now? Are you sure the dukedom could not handle this bit of scandal?”

Perry shook his head. “No doubt in my mind that it could. I was entirely wrong. Let’s draw the papers and handle the situation without delay.”

Gideon shook with laughter and clapped him on the shoulder. Hard.

The two sisters sat on the bench in the garden, looking from one person to the next as they spoke. They were so tiny and well behaved. Francine could tell they had no intention of breaking into the conversation. They were two very well-trained, well-dressed young girls. They looked like a couple of dainty cupcakes—pastel satin dresses covered in white ruffles and frills, with lacy roses and ribbon bows. She immediately thought of Marie Antoinette, without the powdered wig. She looked into their faces and saw something she hadn’t seen since the night her mother died. Well, no, since she’d met Mme. Larrabee. Recognition. She sat back on the bench.

It wasn’t the type of recognition you experience when you know someone, but a kind of recognition of self. They looked like her. They had her missing blonde hair and light-colored eyes, though the smaller one had bluer eyes and the larger one greener.

“Do you— Do you speak any English?” she asked breathlessly.

The little twin faces swept to her in unison and their chirping voices choired, “Yes, of course.” This was followed by countless giggles.

Francine looked to Gideon, shaking her head, and she knew he saw the same thing that she did.

“Maryse,” she said carefully, not looking at either of the girls.

“Madeleine,” Maryse said, in a tiny French voice.

“Francine, please. Amélie.” The other girl smiled at her. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember— anything. But I do hope we can be friends.”

“Oh, we understand, don’t we, Maryse?” Amélie said.

“But, of course! And we will be great—”

“Friends. Just like we always have been.”

“Yes, like we always have been. Someday you will—”

“Remember everything. Someday.”

“Until then, we will be—”

“Friends, the closest of—”

“Friends,” Maryse finished.

Francine was suddenly jealous, and a bit sad at the way the girls finished each other’s sentences.
What an amazing thing, to be so close to someone as to know exactly what they are thinking and saying
. She felt Gideon’s gaze on her and she smiled slightly. She reached for his hand and he grasped hers, squeezing it warmly before releasing her.

Perry stepped forward. “Lady Francine, perhaps you would like to show the sisters to their room? Miss Faversham went up to unpack her things. I thought you might appreciate a little time together.”

Francine nodded. Standing, she turned to Perry. “They need clothes.”

Perry lifted a brow and she motioned to them.

“Do you think this will get any better the more trunks that are opened?”

Perry examined the two girls, who were whispering to each other on the bench. He had no argument as he look at the shiny, puffy, frilly, obnoxious attire. “I imagine a few simple dresses would be appropriate for the country. You and Miss Faversham can determine what they need and we’ll see to it before we leave for the estate. I won’t attend you on this shopping trip. My brother has recently become fond of shopping, so he’ll take the four of you. I’ve no doubt he’ll enjoy it.”

Gideon shot his brother a glare, but Perry didn’t act the least bit repentant.

The girls stood as Miss Faversham walked out to the garden unexpectedly. Amélie and Maryse walked over and stood safely behind her. She looked at Francine, who smiled back but made no move to follow.

Gideon leaned over her, whispering in her ear, and Francine nodded, then left the brothers. They watched as Miss Faversham led the three ladies back into the house.

Francine paused at the doorway and glanced back over her shoulder at Gideon.

He examined the way her long neck turned. Admired the soft skin at her nape dusted with curls that escaped her upswept locks.

Her eyelashes fluttered as she looked down, inhaling.

He walked two steps closer and took a deep breath: lavender and rain. Just the hint of her sent his blood to his gut and forced him to suck in air.

A smile pulled up the corner of her mouth as she met his gaze, then she turned and went inside.

Gideon groaned and rubbed his temples.

Perry stood silently.

“How long does this courting have to last?” Gideon ground out.

“You should at least let her come out to Society before sweeping her away. I’ve no doubt that if we announced a ball for
this
evening, carriages would line the streets to get a peek inside your house.”