The Price of Deception (28 page)

Leroy looked at him in confusion but nodded his head
in obedience.

Philippe would finally have his revenge. After the
match, he would return to his house and reclaim his wife, while
leaving Holland to bleed to death in the dust.

* * * *

Jacquelyn sat in front of her vanity mirror, while
Dorcas brushed her long blond hair. Her maid servant said little,
but she could see in her eyes sympathy for her plight. It made
Jacquelyn wonder how far she could take Dorcas down the path that
her mind had toyed with and its malicious intent.

She felt smug over the trouble she had caused her
husband and his wench by telling Philippe everything. Jacquelyn had
returned to her townhouse to wait its poisonous outcome. She knew
that she incited Philippe enough to take some sort of action. The
ire in his eye spoke of revenge. Jacquelyn smiled. Wherever his
heated emotions led him next, it would explicitly prevent their two
spouses from pursing a future together.

Jacquelyn believed that after her return to England,
she would obtain Mary’s compassion in the situation. As Duchess,
she would continue to live in their estate, among the riches of
Robert’s realm. If he refused to return home and stayed at their
townhouse in London instead, so be it. Little would be lost, for he
had never been a husband to her while they lived together
anyway.

The name of Angelique floated to the top of her
memory. Jacquelyn stirred the jealousy in her heart like a witch’s
caldron when she thought of Suzette’s two children. She deserved
neither of them, especially the one they had named as though she
was an angel in their midst—a tiny newborn. What hypocrisy! It had
come from the womb of a prostitute, regardless of the man she had
married. She, on the other hand, deserved children far more than
her rival, and God’s denial of her one desperate prayer in life
remained unforgivable.

Dorcas continued to pull the brush slowly through her
hair. Jacquelyn lifted her eyes and studied her plain face.

“Do you like serving me, Dorcas?” she asked in
curiosity.

Dorcas looked at her reflection in the mirror.
“Duchess, how can you ask such a thing? You know I do. You’ve been
a fair and generous employer and kind to me as well.”

Jacquelyn smiled. “I appreciate all you’ve done for
me,” she said, in a soft tone. “If I ask you anything, will you do
it for me?”

Dorcas tilted her head, confused over the Duchess’
question. Her words assured her mistress of her continued loyalty.
“Of course, whatever you need, Duchess, I am here for you.”

Jacquelyn lifted her hand behind her head and touched
Dorcas’ wrist. “I knew I could count on you. I knew it.” She
dropped her hand, and Dorcas continued to brush her hair.

A knock came at the door.

“Enter.” Jacquelyn looked in the mirror and saw her
housemaid approaching with an envelope in hand.

“Duchess, this just arrived for you by courier.”

“That’s enough, Dorcas, you can stop brushing. That
will be all for today.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Dorcas placed the hairbrush on the vanity and slipped
from the room as the housemaid handed Jacquelyn the envelope, then
curtsied and left.

Jacquelyn assumed a communication from Robert had
arrived, but as she looked at the writing, she could tell it was
not from him. She tore the envelope open and quickly slipped out
the sheet of paper and read the hastily scribbled words..

Duchess Holland,

I must speak with you regarding a matter of great
urgency. Please meet me in the Tuileries Gardens by the gazebo at 9
o’clock in the morning, if at all possible. It’s a matter of life
and death.

Philippe Moreau

Jacquelyn didn’t quite know what to make of the few
sentences, especially the words “
a matter of life and
death
.” Unbeknown to Philippe, he had opened the door to their
meeting again, which could only further her fantasies of ultimate
retribution for Suzette’s sins.

“Very well, Monsieur Moreau, I shall meet you at 9
o’clock in the morning.” She mused aloud as she folded the letter,
put it back in the envelope, and placed it into her vanity
drawer.

Jacquelyn stood and slipped off her robe. After
turning off the lamp, she climbed into bed. The darkness engulfed
her, as well as an overwhelming sense of loneliness. Taunting
spirits returned to her bedside. Every night, voices visited her in
the dark, stealing her confidence and threatening to weaken her
resolve.

“Failure,” they whispered. “You’re a barren
failure.”

“Leave me,” she spoke to them. “Leave me!”

The voices laughed and then faded away. She would
prove her tormentors wrong one day until they left for good, with
their tails between their legs.

Chapter Twenty
Three

Suzette received the package from Monsieur Leroy
with an expressionless face. Numb from the day before from her
heartrending encounter with her husband, Suzette felt void of
emotion.

“
A package arrived this morning,
Madame. It appears to be from the Gibert Juene.”

“
Ah, yes, it’s that little
boutique bookstore. I special ordered a novel. Thank you,” she
said, walking toward the parlor. “I think I’ll spend some time
reading.”

“
Very well, Madame.”

Suzette cradled the book in her arm as she entered
the parlor and closed the door. She pulled the string and removed
the brown wrapping paper. The volume of Elizabeth Gaskell’s “North
& South” told her immediately who had sent the package, so she
quickly walked over to a chair and sat down.

Robert had devised an ingenious way to correspond in
secret. She smiled that he had chosen a book to do the trick and
another English love story for her to enjoy. She opened the pages
and flipped through the chapters until an envelope fell into her
lap.

She picked it up and smiled while ripping it
open.

My Suzette,

Philippe is aware of our infidelities, and he has
challenged me to a duel to regain his honor. If I do not agree, he
has threatened to take Robert from us both and send him away. We
shall never see our son again.

Suzette brought her hand to her mouth and gasped
aloud. Her eyes filled with tears. Her hands trembled, fearing the
words yet to come.

I cannot risk my son or you, for that matter. I am
prayerful that all will turn out in my favor, my love. Do not
despair. I promise not to shoot to kill, but only to wound to put
these hostilities to an end. Philippe has agreed to release you
should I prevail, along with Robert, and will grant you a
divorce.

However, I must speak with you regarding all
outcomes, my dearest. If I am wounded or killed, Giles, my
assistant, has been ordered to rescue you and our son immediately
before Philippe returns from his victory.

I have made provisions for you, Suzette. You shall
not want for anything the remainder of your life, but you’ll need
to return to England to live in safety. Please pack the few things
you can gather and be ready after dawn Friday morning for Giles’
arrival should the outcome be dire. Let us hope, however, that it
is I who arrives at your doorstep instead to take you into my arms,
along with Robert, as a family.

Pray, my love. Pray for God’s forgiveness and mercy
for our indiscretions, and pray that our love will prevail and we
shall be together.

Forever yours,

Robert

Suzette lowered the letter into her lap. Each word
cut away every ounce of feeling she once held for Philippe. His
egotistical, self-righteous attitude had finally caused the
unthinkable! He doubtlessly had already won the duel in his mind
and planned on keeping her prisoner in their marriage forever.

Terrified thoughts swarmed around Suzette’s head like
angry bees. Whatever the outcome, she would lose. If Robert died,
she would die. Her heart would turn to cold stone in her chest, and
she would despise Philippe for eternity. Should Robert win, she
would have to leave behind a daughter.

Little Robert, in all of the affair, had become a
pawn in Philippe’s merciless hands. She wondered what deceit the
Duchess and her husband had planned between them. Even if Robert
won, how would he do away with his marriage and escape his wife’s
clutches?

Suzette stood and stumbled as the room seemed to
shift beneath her feet. Unable to breathe, she walked to the
parlor’s double doors and opened them, calling for Leroy.

“I need fresh air,” she begged him. “I’m feeling ill.
Fetch me my cloak.”

“I’m sorry, Madame.” He blocked her way from the
door. “I hate to interfere, but your husband has given strict
orders that you are not to leave the residence.”

“What are you talking about?” she demanded. “Get out
of my way.” She attempted to push quickly around him. Her orders
did nothing to sway the tall butler that stood between her and the
door.

“I’m afraid I cannot allow you to do that.” Monsieur
Leroy snapped his fingers, and the housemaid came to Suzette’s side
encouraging her to go upstairs.

“You cannot keep me prisoner in my own home! I’ll
have you fired for this!”

“I doubt, Madame, that by my obedience to my master’s
orders, you shall succeed in having me fired.” He inhaled a deep
breath and narrowed his eyes. “I do not wish to get physical with
you by escorting you upstairs, so I beseech you by your good nature
that you turn around and go to your room.”

A sudden panic engulfed Suzette as her thoughts
turned to her son. Had Philippe already done the unthinkable and
sent him away as further punishment for her sins? She lifted her
skirt and ran up the staircase in haste, flying down the long
hallway to her Robert’s room. Suzette burst through the door, her
eyes darting about.

“Oh, my love,” she cried, seeing him by his wooden
toy box. She scooped Robert up into her arms and began kissing his
face repeatedly.

“Mama, don’t, that tickles,” he protested. He kicked
his little legs, squirming for her to put him down.

Suzette hugged him tightly and gave one last kiss.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I just missed you. Mommy needed a few
kisses to feel better.”

“Well, I suppose it’s all right this time.” He
crossed his arms in front of him like a little man.

Suzette smiled as her thoughts turned toward
Angelique. “I’ll let you play.”

She walked down the hall toward the nursery. Upon
entering, however, she did not find Madame Dubois, as usual, and
walked over to the bassinet only to find it empty. “Oh, my God,”
she gasped. “Where is Angelique?” She fled out the door, alarmed
over her baby’s absence.

Madame Dubois came down the hallway and quickly took
Suzette by the shoulders. “Madame, calm down. Your husband has
taken Angelique for a walk in the park. You should have seen them
when they left. He looked so fatherly insisting that he push the
baby carriage all by himself. I made sure that she was properly
dressed and warm.”

“Why?” Suzette did not understand his strange deed.
“He’s never done that before. Why would he take her?”

“A father’s love, I believe, oui? It is wonderful how
he fusses over the little one.”

Something didn’t feel right. The world felt ajar.
Everyone’s life hung by a thin thread ready to break or unravel in
a thousand directions. Suzette sobbed.

“Oh, Madame, why so tearful? Everything is fine.
You’ll see.”

Suzette would not be consoled, and her governess felt
helpless as Angelique’s mother heaved in miserable worry.

* * * *

Philippe had taken careful thought to cover every
scenario thoroughly. He had never played the fool; he wouldn’t
begin now. When dawn arrived, his final triumph over Robert Holland
would be complete. However, he had certain fears that grated upon
him should, God forbid, the outcome go otherwise. One fear happened
to be the welfare of his daughter, Angelique.

He wheeled the baby carriage into the gardens and
slowly walked toward the location of the gazebo. As he neared, he
saw Duchess Holland standing inside. The early morning hours in the
quiet park afforded all the time they needed.

She turned around and quickly stepped down the stairs
and headed toward them. Her face beamed when her eyes caught sight
of the baby carriage. Each time he looked at her, Philippe felt
overcome by her beauty and demeanor. A slight hint of male
adoration swept over him, somewhat fueled by his wife’s infidelity
and his unmet needs.

“Good morning,” she cooed like a dove, walking up and
bending down to see the angel inside. “I didn’t expect you to bring
your daughter, Angelique, with you this morning.”

Jacquelyn pulled off the white glove from her right
hand and looked at Philippe. “May I touch her?”

“Of course,” he replied, unconcerned over the
attention given to his daughter.

Jacquelyn ran her fingers down the baby’s plump
cheek. Her lips parted in a half smile, in awe of the softness of
the child’s skin. “Oh, Philippe, she’s adorable! You must be so
proud.”

“Yes, I am. I love her with all my heart.”

He allowed her to fuss over the baby for a few
moments and then broke away her attention. “We need to talk,
Duchess. It’s important.”

“Of course, why don’t we walk over to that bench and
sit down.”

Her heartwarming excitement over Angelique caused him
to feel a slight endearment toward her, even though Philippe barely
knew anything about the woman. Perhaps their shared sorrow of
betrayal and loss had oddly bound them together.

“I must speak with you, Duchess.” Philippe paused
wondering how she would handle the impending news about the duel.
“Tomorrow at dawn, your husband and I are to meet and settle things
once and for all.” He paused for a moment, as he studied her face
watching for subtle changes in her demeanor.