The Price of Deception (10 page)

“Of course, Duke Holland, and if there is anything
else you may need as a result of the information obtained, please
do not hesitate to contact me again. I’m happy to see to your legal
affairs while here in Paris.”

Monsieur Girard took out his register and wrote a
receipt for the retainer handing it over to Robert. He slipped it
into his vest pocket.

“I appreciate your help.”

It only took a few moments after leaving before the
news began to grate upon Robert. Philippe Moreau had failed
financially. As much as he secretly disliked the man, he felt
somewhat concerned over his current state of affairs. He would have
to wait for the full report before he even dared to think of any
further action.

He climbed into his hired carriage and gave
directions to be taken home. The face of the little boy that he met
in the park haunted him. Reluctant to leave, he struggled over the
return to his estate and his sister’s visit. He had no choice in
the matter, now that he had committed to the affair.

As soon as he arrived, Robert exited the carriage and
headed for the door. Upon entering, his anxious wife stood waiting
for his return.

“Robert, where have you been? We are nearly packed
and ready to leave.”

“Business,” he replied, walking past her. “I had some
last minute business to take care of.” He glanced around the foyer
and noted the stacked trunks. Giles stood nearby awaiting further
orders.

“Go ahead, Giles, you may load the carriage now.” He
brushed past Jacquelyn and then strode down the hall to take
inventory.

“Everything is done, as usual, Robert. The furniture
is covered and all is packed.”

Jacquelyn approached him and put her arms around his
neck. “Robert, I’m so anxious to return home. Please promise we
won’t return until next year.”

Robert bit his lower lip in an attempt to hold his
tongue. His wife made an outward show of affection. For the first
time since their spat, a civil comment flowed from her lips. She
wanted something.

“I can make no such promises. There may be times I
need to return on business, but you needn’t accompany me.”

Jacquelyn pulled away. “Nonsense.” She approached
Dorcas to get her hat and gloves. “Why would I do that?”

Robert curiously viewed his wife as she donned her
latest flashy, Parisian monstrosity on her head. She slipped her
fingers into her purple gloves, which matched her gown, with an air
of conceit.

“Yes, why, would you do that?” he countered curtly,
as they walked toward the door. “God forbid you’d ever let me
travel alone.”

* * * *

Jacquelyn felt relieved the moment her foot set down
upon the estate grounds. Robert’s mother met them at the door.

“Finally!” She rushed toward the couple. “You are
back.” She gave Robert his usual hand pat upon the side of his face
and smiled endearingly.

“Hello, Mother.” He bent near her cheek and gave it
the ceremonial kiss of respect.

Jacquelyn hugged her mother-in-law tightly and
immediately brought her attention to the newest purchase perched
upon her head. She twirled around and flashed a smile.

“What do you think? Isn’t it gorgeous?”

Mary gave the purple silk, netting, lace, feathers,
and flowers resting on top of her golden locks a keen inspection.
“Gorgeous,” she complimented with jealousy.

“Well, you needn’t be jealous,” replied Jacquelyn,
with pleasure. “I brought you one back from Paris with red
silk.”

Jacquelyn relished the moment of acceptance received
from Mary. It often contained more attention than her own husband
afforded her. She wrapped her arm around her mother-in-law, while
she made her way inside. With great care, she unpinned her prize
possession and handed it to Annette, a housemaid, with
instructions.

“Make sure nothing is crushed when you store it with
my others.”

One finger at a time, she pulled off her gloves.
Robert’s attendant took his hat and cane.

“If you’ll excuse me, ladies,” he said, briskly
walking away. “I have matters to attend to.”

Jacquelyn shot him a dark glance over his hasty
exit.

“Annette, get us some tea and bring it to the drawing
room for Jacquelyn and myself,” Mary ordered.

Jacquelyn turned to Dorcas with instructions to
manage the footmen as they delivered the trunks. “Make sure my new
dresses are out and hung up speedily, Dorcas. I want to show my
mother-in-law the wonderful fashions.”

Mary sauntered down the hall, and Jacquelyn followed.
“Dear, you must tell me everything about your trip,” she entreated,
as she walked over to a new chair and sat down.

Jacquelyn rested on the settee next to the window. A
moment later, it finally dawned on her they were the new pieces
that had been ordered for the room.

“Oh look, Mary! The draperies match wonderfully, and
the cushions are very comfortable.”

“Yes, indeed,” she agreed. “I was quite busy
supervising the hanging of the draperies while you were away.”

It felt delightful to be home, but she hesitated to
tell her mother-in-law everything about the trip. The maid arrived
with tea and set two cups and a china pot on the table nearby. She
poured both a cup, adding their usual amount of sugar and cream,
then handed one to the Dowager Duchess and the other to
Jacquelyn.

“Close the door on your way out, Annette,” instructed
Mary. With a curtsy, the maid retreated and closed the double
doors. “So, tell me all about your holiday.”

“Our trip went well,” Jacquelyn answered, a bit
hesitant. After a few quick sips of tea, she continued. “I am glad
to be home though.”

“And Robert, did he enjoy the time away? He seemed so
stressed before leaving.”

Jacquelyn glanced down at her skirt that had been
wrinkled from the long ride in the carriage and thoughtlessly
stroked it to collect her thoughts
. Robert always enjoyed his
evenings out
, she mused to herself. She glanced back up at her
mother-in-law and wondered if she had any sense of her son’s
behavior.

Mary’s eyes narrowed over Jacquelyn’s hesitancy to
respond. “No different, I take, it. Still the sullen, serious,
reclusive son.” She paused momentarily and heaved a frustrated
sigh. “And no doubt husband.”

Jacquelyn felt obligated to defend him. “Well, you
know how stressed he becomes over matters regarding the estate and
such.” Her mind wandered to the day they took a walk in the garden
park. Suddenly, she heard her own voice blurt out the incident.

“He was doing fine until he ran into an old
friend.”

“Old friend? And who might that be?”

“Philippe Moreau. Do you know of him?”

The Duchess shook her head. “No, the name means
nothing to me. A Frenchman, no doubt?”

“Yes, with a little boy.”

“Well, I’m afraid I know nothing of Robert’s
acquaintances in France,” she said nonchalantly, before taking a
sip of tea.

“His little boy was quite adorable. A little blond
haired, blue-eyed child named Robert.”

The china cup met the saucer with a loud
clink
, and Mary raised her widened eyes to Jacquelyn. Her
reaction startled her, and she wondered if she suspected the
same.

“How delightful.” Her lips pursed tightly together.
“Might I ask, how old is the child?”

“Five, I believe.” A blush burst upon her cheeks.

The room fell silent between the two women as they
both sipped their tea and pondered the meaning of it all. Finally,
with a nervous tone, Mary changed the subject.

“What other Parisian fashions did you return with, my
dear? You must tell me of the newest rage from the haute
couture.”

Jacquelyn’s eyes brightened, thankful the
conversation turned elsewhere. She set her teacup down on the tray
and stood to her feet.

“Come, you must see! I’m sure Dorcas is unpacking
them as we speak.”

Jacquelyn and
Mary proceeded upstairs to inspect the latest styles from
Paris.
Thank
goodness for frivolous pleasures, thought
Jacquelyn
. Fashion
diversions happened to be the only avenue of sanity in her
life
.

* * * *

Mary finished her visit with her daughter-in-law
after looking at the dresses one by one. She had to admit, a trip
to Paris for herself would be entertaining one day. After her days
of mourning, a closet full of new gowns and hats could help pull
her out of the doldrums once and for all.

Afterward, she headed for her son’s study, itching to
inquire further about the conversation shared with Jacquelyn over
the odd encounter. Fully aware that her son would probably not
admit to anything, she still wished to discuss the mention of a
five-year-old boy who possessed his features.

Mary knew of Robert’s indiscretions with a French
mademoiselle years earlier. His father had spilled his secret prior
to passing away for fear that he had sired a bastard son. The
thought troubled her deeply. Her deceased husband had worried for
years that one day Robert’s roguish behavior would come back to
bite him in the ass. She wondered if that day had arrived.

Mary adored Jacquelyn in many ways and felt terrible
over her inability to bear Robert children. It seemed as if
everyone’s prayers had gone unanswered for an heir to the Holland
legacy. The situation brought immense sadness upon the entire
household.

She arrived at Robert’s study, inhaled a deep breath,
and rapped on the door with her knuckles. “Robert, it’s your
mother. Let me come in.” Mary waited for what seemed like an
eternity before the door slowly opened to reveal her disheveled son
on the other side. As soon as she saw his glassy eyes, she knew he
had reached his third or fourth drink.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit early to be hitting the
bottle, Robert? She pushed past his body and walked inside. Robert
closed the door behind her.

“Can’t a man have a drink in his own house?” he
grumbled.

“A drink yes, but not the entire decanter. It’s
barely afternoon.”

“What do you want, Mother?” Robert plopped down in
the chair behind his desk piled high with papers.

“Neglecting your business affairs, again,” Mary
noted, while she pushed a few pieces of paper around with her
fingertips. “Your father did much better when it came to running
the estate. Why you cannot live up to your responsibilities is
beyond me.”

“I’ve been on holiday,” he slurred. “I’ve just
returned, so stop badgering me. I’ll get around to the matters at
hand.” Robert took a swig of the last drop of cognac in his glass.
“Besides, I haven’t bankrupted the estate yet, now have I, Mother?
You’re well cared for.”

“Huh,” she said, in a huff. “Yes, well cared for, but
you neglect your husbandly duties toward your wife.”

Mary narrowed her eyes at her son. He brought great
disappointment and grief to her heart. Robert’s duty to embrace his
title and maintain honor stood paramount in her mind. Now she
feared that honor had been tainted by the past.
I’ll get to the
bottom of this
, she thought, as she glared at him in a half
stupor.

“Jacquelyn tells me that you ran into a man and his
son while on holiday. What can you tell me about them?”

“There’s nothing to tell,” Robert answered annoyed.
“We transacted a business deal five years ago.”

“A business deal? You probably got that vernacular
from your father coaching you on how to hide illicit affairs.”

Like every other aristocrat, Mary had been quite
aware that her dear, departed husband bedded a few mistresses of
his own during their many years of marriage. However, he at least
had the decency not to father any bastard children or cause shame
to come to the Holland name. Mary accepted her role as Duchess. Men
strayed, and nothing could be done about it.

Robert jumped to his feet in anger. His eyes glared
at his mother, who in his opinion had just crossed the line with
her persistent pestering. Unable to hold his tongue, he spat back
his defense.

“Almost certainly Father had many business deals due
to your constant nagging. Whatever I choose to do in order to find
entertainment in my dull life is my business—not yours.”

“Is the child yours?” she pressured, posturing
herself at his side.

“The child is not mine,” Robert growled and pushed
his chair away from the desk. “In fact, if you care to know, the
mother of the boy is dead and buried. Satisfied?”

“You do Jacquelyn a great injustice visiting the bed
of other women. You’re just like your Father—an unfaithful and
sordid man whom I’m ashamed to call my son!”

Mary picked up her skirt, swirled around, and headed
in a huff for the study door. “Mark my words, Robert, if that child
is yours it will destroy the last ounce of happiness your wife
possesses. The fact that you have a bastard heir when she cannot
give you a legitimate heir in wedlock is scandalous!”

She flung the door open and banged it shut behind
her, then proceeded to tread heavily down the hallway. Mary
determined not to shed a tear over her irresponsible son. The
consequences of his behavior could very well damage the family’s
position in society.

In a hurried huff, she stormed upstairs to her room.
“Men and their mistresses,” she spewed loudly, as she passed
Jacquelyn’s suite. It felt good to discharge her frustrations over
Robert. Being the mother of a man with no sensibility or propriety
saddened her deeply.

Mary’s little outburst brought enormous release; but
unbeknownst to her, it carried to the ears of another. Jacquelyn
heard her venomous complaint when she passed her door.

Chapter Nine

Suzette felt the need for a sense of security, so she
rested her head in the corner of Philippe’s shoulder as they lay in
bed. He must have sensed it, because he gently stroked her hair
with the palm of his hand but remained silent. Fear, longing,
confusion—they wrapped Suzette tight in a blanket of
uneasiness.