Chapter Fifteen
Nate stood by the window in the study and contemplated all that had gone on that day.
He’d seen the change that had come over Bridget’s face when he’d stopped her from questioning the maids about their whereabouts the night before.
Trust and affection had been replaced with skepticism and anger.
It nearly broke his heart, but he had a clear idea of where the housemaids had been going at night, and if he was correct, he did not want Bridget finding out about it.
His friend Lord Frederick had caused enough trouble already, and he suspected that his talk of midnight excursions to the lake had come to fruition.
He only hoped Frederick’s influence on the maids and other guests hadn’t led to the disaster of Madam Bouffant’s death.
He sighed. Inviting Frederick to Villa De Lacey had seemed like a fantastic idea just after he’d arrived from London.
He’d been angry at Edward and missed his old lifestyle, but now he regretted the decision.
Frederick was a decent chap, but he was a confirmed rake and wasn’t about to change his ways.
Nate recalled their years of carousing together—drinking, gambling, women.
He’d never really wanted that life. At first, he’d done it to spite his father, who’d been controlling and severe like his brother.
He’d resented his father for not trusting him, for thinking that he wasn’t capable of handling money, and believing that Edward needed to be left in charge of him.
His father had always underestimated him.
Nate could still feel the burning resentment in his chest. So, he’d turned to the likes of Frederick, and that had made things worse.
But everything had changed when he met Helen.
When she came into his life, he lost interest in the carousing.
He wanted to settle down and have a family.
Oddly enough, it was Helen who wouldn’t let him stop.
She loved being seen and insisted on attending every ball and social event in London.
He wondered how she did that now with an aging husband confined to a chair.
Nate shook his head. What did it matter?
He no longer cared what Helen did. But he did care that he’d brought Frederick’s chaos to Villa De Lacey and disrupted Bridget’s peaceful existence as well as what he had to admit was her clever plan to remain in her ancestral home.
Nate turned from the window. It was time to have a chat with his friend. He needed to find out exactly what had been going on after dark and whether or not it could have resulted in Madam Bouffant’s death.
As he walked across the room, the door suddenly opened.
He stepped back in surprise when Lady Luxton entered the study.
She closed the paneled mahogany door behind her, leaned against it, and gave Nate a sly smile.
Her deep-purple dress, complete with a lilac sash, complemented her dark hair and black eyes.
Nate swallowed. A mixture of anger, sorrow, and lust coursed through him.
Here was the woman who’d abandoned him at the altar, playing games with his heart again.
“What are you doing here, Helen?”
She sauntered toward him. “I thought we could finish the discussion we started last night.”
He held up his hand to stop her from advancing. “There was no discussion. I was merely taking a stroll in the garden, trying to clear my head, when you ambushed me out of nowhere. I told you then, and I will tell you now, we have nothing to say to each other.”
“I know you don’t mean that.” She continued to move closer to him. “Don’t you think it’s time you let go of the past and forgive me?”
Nate ran a hand through his hair. This was painful. Part of him wanted her to go away, but another part wished—no! She had no right to keep ambushing him like this.
Helen lowered her gaze and sucked her lower lip as if contemplating her next move. “You know I did what was best for both of us, don’t you?”
He chuckled. “How was humiliating me and running away to marry another man—old enough to be my grandfather—best for me?”
The comment seemed to sober her because she straightened her shoulders and abandoned her seductive tone.
“When your father died, he left everything to your brother. You had nothing of your own—not even a title. You were at your brother’s mercy.
And the earl disliked me. He would have turned us into his puppets.
But my husband is as rich as Croesus and almost as old.
He will die soon, and then he will make me a very rich woman. ”
Nate sighed. “What of it? That has nothing to do with me.”
“My son will need a father. I shall be looking to remarry.”
“Your son?” Surprise followed by a little stab of pain coursed through him. He’d imagined Helen as a mother many times, but he’d always thought she’d be the mother of his children.
“Henry is a little over two,” she said, stepping closer to Nate.
A little over two? Helen had been only married for two years. He backed up once again as the mad thought raced through his mind. “What are you saying?”
She shrugged, a sly smile playing on her lips.
“Who knows? Birthing a child is complicated. Sometimes a babe arrives early and sometimes late.” She veered away from him and went to lean against Mr. De Lacey’s large mahogany desk.
“Sometimes they arrive pink and screaming, and other times blue and still. My Henry had a powerful scream. He’s a strong and healthy boy. ”
Nate shook his head. He’d had enough of Helen and her games.
“He was—is—a strong boy like his father.”
Nate inhaled, trying to keep calm. She wanted to retain control over him to feed her vanity.
That’s what all this nonsense was about.
She was no different than his brother, and he would not let her manipulate him.
“Why did you come here, Lady Luxton?” he said, firmly pushing aside any notions of the child being his and deliberately avoiding using her Christian name this time.
She pushed herself away from the desk and walked toward him once again. “To let you know that I still care—I never stopped caring. And when I heard that you were running an inn—”
“I’m not running an inn,” Nate said through gritted teeth. “I merely own the place. Others run it for me.”
“Ah yes, that little blond orphan you seem so fond of and the red-haired maidservant, too.”
“What are you talking about? Have you been spying on me?”
“Not spying. I’m merely observant, that’s all.” She crept closer to him—the scent of her intoxicating jasmine perfume invaded his space. He gazed into her large dark eyes and impossibly thick, long lashes and was almost lost to the memory of what had been.
“But you needn’t worry. You won’t have to settle for servant girls much longer. That’s what I wanted to tell you last night when I saw you in the garden before that French whore came along and interrupted me.” She pressed her body against his.
“Excuse me?” he said. Clanging bells went off in his brain, alerting him to danger. “You saw Madam Bouffant in the garden?”
“Yes, I saw her creeping about there. She emerged from behind a cluster of trees and gave me an enormous fright. I knew immediately she must have been spying on me. You know how that sort are—always trying to extort money from the rich. And Lord Luxton, bless him, has a temper. Nothing upsets him more than thinking his jewel has been with another man. Don’t let that chair of his fool you. So I ran, afraid she’d recognized me.”
So that had been the reason for Helen’s sudden departure. He’d thought it was because he’d turned his back on her. He should have known she wouldn’t give up that easily. But what had Madam Bouffant been doing—or rather—where had she been going?
“If you ask me, it’s a blessing she fell down those stairs. Who knows what she heard or witnessed.”
The glint in her eyes as she spoke made the hair stand up on the back of Nate’s neck. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you pushed her down those stairs from the way you talk,” he said.
“Why would I risk my neck to do such a thing? I got a fright at the time, that’s true, but no one would have believed a French whore over the word of a lady.”
“Stop calling her that.” Nate slid to the side and out of Lady Luxton’s reach. “She’s dead; show some respect. Madam Bouffant was a guest here—and she was a perfectly respectable French lady.”
Lady Luxton laughed, revealing her perfectly straight, pearly white teeth. “Where she came from matters not—but who she was—well, that was plain for all to see. She didn’t even try to hide it. There’s no place for such a woman at a high-class inn—that’s what you are aiming for, isn’t it?”
Nate folded his arms. He didn’t remember Helen being this callous.
Why hadn’t he seen it before? Could it be that two years of marriage had changed her this much?
Or maybe she’d hidden her true nature from him then.
“Do you know what I think?” he said. She cocked her head at him, daring him to say.
“I think that you recognized yourself in her. You saw a beautiful young lady who’d manipulated the heart of an older gentleman and latched onto him in the hope of securing his money.
” He paused. “And deep down, I think you despise that part of yourself.”
Her smirk crumbled, and Nate knew he’d struck a nerve. But it only lasted for a second before she regained her smug self-assurance.
“Poor Nate. You still cannot forgive me, can you? But how wrong you are. The French whore and I were nothing alike. I am married, and my husband gave me a title. He will leave my son with a title and both of us with great wealth. I came here to offer you a piece of that, but as always, you are too proud. But no matter, I shan’t have to worry about finding someone new when the time comes.
No doubt, my butler will have to fend the gentlemen off with a stick.
” She lifted her chin and turned, striding toward the door.
“Lady Luxton,” he said as she gripped the doorknob. She turned.
“Should anything happen to Lord Luxton while you are a guest here, I won’t hesitate to relay this conversation to the magistrate.”
“Lord Luxton is six-and-eighty years old. He cannot live forever. I doubt the magistrate will disagree with that.” She smiled wickedly, blew him a kiss, and exited the room.