Read No Sweeter Heaven: The Pascal Trilogy - Book 2 Online

Authors: Katherine Kingsley

Tags: #FICTION/Romance/Historical

No Sweeter Heaven: The Pascal Trilogy - Book 2 (12 page)

BOOK: No Sweeter Heaven: The Pascal Trilogy - Book 2
3.8Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

“Because … because Jean-Jacques can’t afford a steward who knows how to deal with the problem, and because the villagers are all against him, so they won’t work properly, and because…” She let out a long breath and looked down at the table. “Because he hasn’t a clue what he is doing, and no one else knows what is wrong,” she said helplessly. “I would do anything in the world to help him, and I don’t know how.”

“Do you know,” Pascal said softly, “those might be the first honest words you have spoken to me? It makes a nice change.”

Lily’s gaze flew back to his, and she colored.

“So,” Pascal said, putting the spoon down and folding his hands together. “Your brother is in trouble. Why don’t we go and see what we can do to help him?”

“What?”
Lily stared at him, unable to believe her ears. There had to be a trick in it somewhere, but she couldn’t see it. “You’re serious?”

“Perfectly. It seems an answer to many problems. I need a job. Your brother needs help. You will be happy for your brother’s company, I think, and I happen to speak French. Therefore I will offer myself as your brother’s steward for a reasonable salary.”

“You? But you’re a gardener—what would you know about vineyards?”

“Not a very great deal, but I did live in the Loire Valley long enough to get a vague idea.”

“A vague idea?” Lily said, torn between her desperation to be returned to her brother and her worry at presenting Jean-Jacques with a steward who knew not much more than how to grow a petunia. Her desire to return to her brother won. “I suppose a vague idea is better than no idea at all. Do you think you can run an estate?”

“I’m sure your brother will find my credentials adequate,” he said. “But for practicality’s sake, tell me—who is your brother and where is his estate? It would be difficult to grow one grape, never mind entire vineyards, on top of the Pyr6n6es, even under the best of circumstances.”

“No—oh, no, it’s nothing like that.” Lily was so intent on getting to Saint-Simon that she didn’t notice Pascal was smiling. “The estate is in the heart of the Périgord. Jean-Jacques is the Due de Saint-Simon, and Saint-Simon itself is not so very far from Beaulieu.”

“Oh, dear God, not another blasted duke,” Pascal murmured under his breath. “Your brother was raised in England?” he asked in a more audible voice.

“Yes, at Sutherby. He has been at Saint-Simon only three years. It was an estate once well known for its wines, but the vines have failed year after year, and he hasn’t been able to bring them back to health.” She stared at the table. “Jean-Jacques lives in a most beautiful chateau, but even that is falling to bits, since it was neglected for nearly thirty years, and Jean-Jacques hasn’t the funds to put into it. I’d give him my money—”

“I think not,” Pascal said.

She looked at him imploringly, batting her eyelashes the way she’d seen women do in London. “Oh, but just think, it could make all the difference to him. Why can’t I? You don’t want it.”

“Elizabeth. It’s not a matter open for discussion, and fluttering your eyelashes is a waste of time. Feminine wiles are entirely lost on me.”

Lily slumped back in her chair, unable to think of a proper retort.

“So. We’ll go, and we’ll go immediately, for it’s already the middle of May and there’s no time to be lost. Under normal circumstances I would write to your brother and wait for a reply, but that would lose too many valuable days. We’ll leave tomorrow.”

“We will? Tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“Oh—oh!” Lily’s entire body froze with happiness. “Y-you have no idea what this means to me,” she managed to stammer. “Truly, you—you do not.”

“Perhaps not, although it’s clear to me that you have a great fondness for your brother, which is how it should be.” A shadow crossed his face. “There’s one condition. When we arrive I would thank you to leave out your version of why we were married. If I’m going to help your brother I’ll need his trust. Do you understand me?”

Lily nodded. All that was in her mind was Jean-Jacques and Saint-Simon, and that she would be with them both soon. Nothing else mattered. Nothing.

“I take it by your silence that you understand me well enough. That’s good, for I warn you not to cross me in this, Elizabeth.”

“I—I shan’t,” she promised. “I’ll come up with an acceptable explanation.”

“Thank you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to find Nicholas and Georgia and tell them of our plans.”

Lily was left alone in the kitchen, her head spinning. Never in a million years would she have thought getting back to Saint-Simon would be so easy. She could kiss Charlie for his brilliance, she really could, for somehow he had known that the wretch would jump at the chance. Maybe Charlie thought it was his brother’s only hope for a job.

Lily shrugged, dismissing Pascal. Now she had to work out a way to put her hands on her money so that Jean-Jacques would have funds again. Pascal seemed adamant about keeping it away from her—hardly surprising since he was not a man to see reason.

But she couldn’t stand on her pride in this matter. She would have to find a way to persuade him, that was all there was to it. How did one go about persuading a man like Pascal LaMartine? He’d said he wasn’t interested in feminine wiles, which was just as well, since she wasn’t very good at them.

Lily propped her chin on her fist and thought hard. A slow smile crept across her mouth as she hit upon a plan. Her wretched husband might not know a grape from a grapepress, but she knew he approved of humility in a person.

She frowned, trying to remember all the horrible things he had said to her in the three days they’d been married.

He thought her a spoiled child. He thought her selfish and uncaring. Very well. She would kill him with sweetness. Sweetness and kindness and—and total, absolute humility. She would have thrown in piety, but unfortunately she’d already told him that she didn’t believe in God. Oh, well. Maybe she could pretend to have changed her mind about that, too, if she did it carefully.

The very idea of pretending all of those things to a man she detested made her stomach turn, but for Jean-Jacques she’d do anything. Anything at all.

8

“Binkley
, thank you for your hospitality yesterday morning,” Pascal said, shaking the old butler’s hand. The family and staff were gathered outside of Ravenswalk, and Pascal was not having an easy time saying good-bye, although he hoped it didn’t show.

“Just you remember what words I put into your ear,” Binkley said in an undertone, but gruffly nonetheless. “I think you’re doing the right thing, Pascal, just so you know. I applaud your decision. Very sensible. Very sensible indeed.” He shot another curious look Lily’s way.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Pascal said with a wry smile. “But it does seem that God responded very quickly to my plea by dropping this challenge in front of me, and, I confess, I couldn’t resist picking up His gauntlet.”

Binkley nodded, then raised his voice. “I wish you all luck in your marriage, Master Pascal.”

“Thank you,” he said solemnly. He then shook the hands of all the gathered staff, hugged the children, speaking softly to each one in turn, and gently wiped away Ghislaine’s tears with his thumb. “It won’t be so long until the next time, I promise,” he said to her. He gave Charlie a great thump on the back. “Behave yourself. Come visit us in France if your travels ever bring you our way. I’ll write to give you the direction.”

Charlie nodded and flashed a grin at Elizabeth. “I’ll do that. It will be nice to see you both.”

“Where has the monsieur gone? He was here just a minute ago,” Pascal asked Georgia, looking around him.

“I believe he has gone off to get a present for you and Elizabeth,” Georgia said. “It is something to remember us by.”

“Madame, you have given me too much already. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your replenishing my supplies.”

“You couldn’t very well have taken supplies away from the monastery,” Georgia said. “Losing you must have been enough of a blow.”

“Nevertheless, I need nothing more.”

“typical,” Nicholas said dryly, appearing with a small struggling bundle of rough white fur that sported a brown circle over one eye and a matching one above the base of a frantically wagging tail. Its little ears quivered with delight at the sight of Pascal.

“It’s one of the Raleigh pups,” Pascal said with pleasure.

“She’s a great-great-granddaughter of Raleigh’s,” Nicholas amended, “and the line is growing stronger with each generation. I’m succeeding in breeding a brilliant line of ground hunters, Pascal, all out of Raleigh’s stock.”

“Then she’s bound to be exceptional. Raleigh was the finest of dogs.”

“Indeed he was, and you will find this little bitch equaled by none, I am confident of it. Not that you’ll want to hunt her, I know,” Nicholas said with an exasperated smile, “but a better companion you could not ask for. She is my wedding present to you both.”

“Thank you,” Lily said quietly. “You are very thoughtful.”

“I hope she gives you pleasure, Elizabeth. And you will not be stubborn and refuse her, Pascal, or I shall be extremely annoyed with you.”

“Thank you, monsieur. You’re very kind.” He took the puppy into his arms, where she proceeded to thoroughly wet his ear. “I think I shall name her…” He held the pup up and looked at her closely. “I think I shall name her Bean,” he pronounced.

“Bean?” Nicholas asked with a laugh. “Why ever Bean?”

“Because she looks exactly like one, a little spotted bean. Thank you so much, monsieur. We will treasure her.”

“You might not treasure her so much by the time you have arrived at Saint-Simon. She’s young yet at twelve weeks and not completely trained.”

Pascal rubbed the puppy’s head. “I’ll have a serious word with her. I’m sure that one way or another we’ll come to terms. Thank you both for understanding. I know it’s been a very short visit after such a long absence.”

“Oh, but it’s a good thing to settle in a place Elizabeth loves and with people who love her,” Georgia said cheerfully, trying to hold back her tears. “I hope you’ll both be very happy in Saint-Simon. Look after Pascal, Elizabeth. He is precious to us.”

“Thank you both for welcoming me so warmly to your family,” Lily said shyly. “It means more than I can say.”

Pascal looked at her with surprise. Her small speech was the last thing he’d expected, and he realized that she actually looked quite pretty when she wasn’t being sullen.

“Good-bye,” Nicholas said, taking her hand. “Be well and happy. And please, write to us and let us know how you are getting on.”

“I’ll do that,” she said. “Or at least I’ll try. I’ve never been very good at writing letters.”

Pascal gave her another thoughtful look. It occurred to him that maybe she’d never had anyone to write letters to. But he pulled his attention back to the immediate necessity of saying the most painful farewell of all.

“Monsieur. Madame.” Pascal embraced each in turn. “Thank you. You’ll be in my thoughts and prayers, as ever.”

“And you in ours,” Nicholas said. Georgia was beyond words. Nicholas rubbed the squirming puppy’s head. “Look after them, Bean,” he said. “Safe journey to you both.”

And then they were off, and Pascal had to force himself not to look back as the carriage barreled down the long drive and out through the gates toward the coast.

“Mr., um, Mr. LaMartine…” Lily tugged at the back of his jacket to get his attention, for her words were blown away by the wind.

Pascal pulled his weight from the railing and turned around. “Yes?” he asked pleasantly enough. “Are you feeling ill? You’re looking slightly green.”

“No! I am perfectly well. It is the puppy who is unwell—I do not know what to do for it. For her,” Lily amended miserably. “She’s been sick everywhere!”

Pascal’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean by everywhere? I thought you had her confined in your cabin.”

“I did, but she escaped. The first mate, or whoever he is—the one dressed in the uniform—tried to catch her, and she was sick on him, and he dropped her, and then I chased her, and one of the other passengers caught her and she was sick on him, and now she is back in the cabin being sick on the bed.” Lily held out her hands helplessly. “I apologized to the two men, but I don’t know what else to do, and really, she can’t possibly carry on like this.”

Pascal quickly moved past Lily and down to the cabin he’d reserved for his wife’s comfort. He found the puppy lying on the floor, her nose resting miserably on her paws, the latest result of her intestinal turmoil beside her. He immediately scooped her up, whispering soothing words to her. Bean opened her eyes and looked at him imploringly, then shut them again and shuddered, and Pascal gave a smothered laugh.

“Here. Take the poor infant up onto the deck,” he ordered Lily, who had come in just behind him, looking nearly as helpless as the puppy.

“But I can’t,” Lily protested. “She’ll only get away from me again!”

“Bean is by now far too weak to be thinking of bolting anywhere,” Pascal said, handing her the pup and surveying the damage done to the cabin. “And someone has to clean this mess up. I hardly think it is going to be you. In any case, the fresh air will help her stomach.” He glanced back at Lily, who was holding the puppy at arm’s length in front of her. “You might try talking to her and giving her some sympathetic attention. Holding her like that isn’t going to give her confidence, nor make her feel any better. Surely you must have some idea of what a puppy needs?”

Lily slowly shook her head, trying to find a comfortable position for the animal in her arms. “I’ve never had a pet before,” she confessed. “It wasn’t for lack of asking, it was just that my father didn’t tolerate them. He kept a kennel of hounds for hunting, but thought pets an unnecessary indulgence.” Lily looked back down at the miserable, limp bundle of fur in her hands. “I’m sorry. I’ve always wanted a dog. I just don’t know what is required, and I think she knows that I don’t know. Please, Mr. LaMartine, tell me what to do?”

Pascal ran a hand through his hair, then dropped it to his side. “Very well. We’ll start at the beginning. You have to realize she’s only a baby and needs what every baby needs. Cuddle her against you. She needs to know she’s safe and cared for.”

Lily nodded, her expression grave.

“She also needs to know she’s not in trouble for having been sick. Go on, Elizabeth, cradle her in your arms as if she were an infant. It won’t hurt either of you. If it’s any reassurance, she most likely has nothing left in her stomach to be sick with, so you’re quite safe.”

“Oh, I don’t mind that so much. It’s more that I don’t think she likes me.”

Pascal halted in the midst of dampening a cloth in the water bowl. “Doesn’t
like
you? What in God’s name gives you that idea?”

Lily looked up at him, surprised at his incredulous tone. “Well,” she said, attempting to sound practical, “why would she? People generally don’t like me, so why should a puppy?” She hunched a shoulder. “Bean was much more interested in being with you from the start, and when you left, she scratched frantically at the door. And then she was sick. I thought it was because she didn’t like being left with me—and she didn’t, because as soon as I opened the door, she ran away.”

Pascal slowly put the cloth down, then leaned a hip against the table where the basin stood and folded his arms across his chest. He gave Lily a very long, assessing look, and she wondered what she’d said wrong now. She had been trying so hard to do everything right, but it seemed to be getting her nowhere at all.

“Tell me something,” he finally said. “What sort of life did you have at Sutherby? You said your brother was there with you?”

Lily wondered what this had to do with anything, but she nodded. The puppy had now found a comfortable position, her little head pushed hard into the crook of Lily’s shoulder. Lily held her gingerly, secretly thrilled at her trust and liking the feel of the soft nose pressed against her dress.

“Jean-Jacques came to Sutherby with my mother when she married my father,” she said, stroking the puppy’s back. “Jean-Jacques was only seven. I don’t think my father liked him—they fought like cats and dogs from the time I can remember. Poor Jean-Jacques had to live under my father’s authority until he gained his majority. Once he had, though, he was gone like a shot.”

“He went directly to Saint-Simon?” Pascal asked.

“N-no … he went to Paris to live. But eventually he ran out of funds, and so he had to close up the house and move to Saint-Simon. It’s a great hardship for him, living in near poverty, Mr. LaMartine, for he is not accustomed to such things.” She looked at him with what she hoped was distress, but he didn’t seem particularly moved.

“I see,” he said. “So you were without your brother’s company at Sutherby for some time?”

Lily nodded again. “I missed him terribly. My father finally relented and let me visit Jean-Jacques this year, although it went against his grain, feeling as he does about my brother. I think he let me go because he hoped that Jean-Jacques would introduce me to eligible Frenchmen. He’d run out of British suitors and he was at his wits’ end.”

“In an odd sort of way his strategy worked, didn’t it? I doubt even your father would have thought to go looking inside a monastery for a husband, but in the end he did manage to marry you to a Frenchman—although I wouldn’t have described myself as eligible, exactly.”

Lily colored hotly, but then she realized that there had been no sting in his voice. She was beginning to wonder if the wretch actually had a sense of humor, but that seemed impossible, so she dismissed the idea.

“I think I’ll take the puppy up above now,” she said, and started out of the cabin, Bean clutched to her chest. But as she went down the corridor she could have sworn she heard a snort of laughter from behind the closed door.

So much for humility,
Lily thought bitterly and clutched Bean even more tightly to her, taking comfort in the puppy’s warmth.

Pascal shifted his position against the oak tree, watching Lily walk Bean in the haphazard fashion she’d developed since leaving the boat three days earlier. The pup bounded off in every direction at once, and instead of bringing her into line with the leash that Pascal had made out of some spare rein, Lily chased in all directions after her.

It occurred to Pascal that Nicholas had been extremely clever in his choice of wedding present, for the puppy had created a new, if fragile, link between Lily and himself. He wondered if Nicholas had not understood a great deal more about the state of affairs between himself and his wife than he had realized. Knowing Nicholas, Pascal thought surely he had. And, typical of Nicholas, he had chosen subtlety over any more obvious approach.

He was distracted by a yelp, not from the puppy but from her mistress, and Pascal saw that they had both somehow managed to wrap themselves around a tree.

“Oh, help!” Lily cried again, for now the leash was twined not only around the tree but also around her legs, and the white whirling dervish on the other end was intent on complicating the situation even further with a nice big bush.

Amused, Pascal removed himself from his post and ambled over to the scene of disaster, first picking up the scrabbling Bean and detaching her from her leash, and then unwinding his wife.

“Madame. You may have your legs back.” They had slipped naturally into speaking French as soon as they’d landed in that country, and he was grateful for Lily’s fluency, even if there was nothing else he could find to be grateful about.

“Thank you,” she breathed, pushing the hair out of her flushed face. “I—I don’t think I quite have the way of this yet.”

“No, but it will come. You and Bean will learn together. You need to be firmer with her, Elizabeth, for she’ll test you on every point. Nicholas has bred these terriers carefully, and they’re as keenly intelligent as they are curious. The combination is a sure recipe for trouble, unless you quickly establish who is master.”

“Oh,” Lily said uncertainly. “But I don’t want to hurt her. She always squeaks so pitifully and trembles when I scold her.”

Pascal shook his head, and Lily gave him a puzzled look.

“You won’t hurt her,” he said. “I promise. She’s been playing you for all you are worth; I’ve never seen a dog wrap a person so quickly around its paw, never mind every tree in sight. Watch this.”

BOOK: No Sweeter Heaven: The Pascal Trilogy - Book 2
3.8Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

El Año del Diluvio by Margaret Atwood
Light by M John Harrison
Sweet Inspiration by Penny Watson
A Liverpool Song by Ruth Hamilton
The Devil`s Feather by Minette Walters
Panic Attack by Jason Starr