Chapter 19 #2
“No need for a hackney, Miss St. Briac. I’ll summon Bertram, the new groom, to drive you in his lordship’s chaise.”
Emeline sat silent as the young groom drove them along Oxford Street.
Turning south into Mayfair, they passed tradesmen delivering supplies to the servants’ entrances of grand homes, lamplighters extinguishing the last of the night’s streetlamps, and crossing sweepers who cleared away the manure that had accumulated in the streets overnight.
“I’ve changed my mind,” she said abruptly. “I don’t want to go to Chesterfield Street. Take me to Grosvenor Square instead.”
Soon enough, Emeline was marching up to her parents’ stately brick home, pausing only to wave to Bertram, who was climbing back into the chaise.
Then, without knocking, she opened the heavy door and entered.
Mouette’s lovely morning room opened off the stair hall and, looking in, she saw her mother seated at her graceful desk, writing.
“Mama.” She entered and approached the desk.
“Oh!” Mouette clasped a hand to her bodice and blinked. “Goodness, you startled me!”
“I didn’t bother to knock, so Baptiste does not know I am here.” Emeline caught a glimpse of her reflection in a gilt-edged oval mirror on the wall and winced. “I look terrible, but don’t worry. I simply haven’t had time to make myself presentable.”
Mouette rose, came around the desk, and clasped Emeline’s shoulders, studying her. “You’ve done it, then.”
“Indeed.” How wonderful to feel perfectly understood, and not to see condemnation or judgment in her mother’s loving gaze. “I had to.”
Just then her brother Charles appeared in the doorway. “What’s this?” He came forward and looked her up and down. “The prodigal daughter returns?”
“I am only paying a short visit.”
“Come and sit down, darling,” her mother said, drawing Emeline down next to her on a settee upholstered in delphinium-blue silk. “Charles, perhaps you should leave us.”
“As a matter of fact, I was just on my way out.” He glanced in a nearby mirror and adjusted his black silk cravat. “I’m going by shortly to visit Hartcliffe. I understand he has purchased Lady Valencia Brook’s house in Wigmore Street.” He flicked up his brows for one suggestive instant.
Before she could think, Emeline said, “You won’t find him at home. He…” She was shocked to feel her throat constrict with emotion. “I believe he has gone to Lisbon.”
“Has he indeed!” Charles quickly crossed the room and took a chair facing the settee. “What’s afoot?”
Feeling overwhelmed, she turned to her mother. “I have come to speak to Papa. Is he at home?”
Mouette’s eyes widened. “No. He had an early meeting at his office…but I believe he will return here afterward.”
“I shall wait.”
Charles looked back and forth between his mother and sister. “Fascinating! Clearly Justin has done something underhanded—again. Please don’t keep us in suspense.”
“Really, Charles,” Mouette protested. “You are speaking of your stepfather. And furthermore, you are probing into matters that don’t concern you.”
“If they have to do with Lord Jasper Hartcliffe, with whom I hope to do business, they may very well concern me.”
Unable to hold back another moment, Emeline blurted, “I have reason to believe that Papa struck some sort of bargain with Hart and that he was secretly funding the so-called work Louise and I have been doing here in London.” Her heart was racing.
“In fact, I think Papa arranged for Hart to pretend to hire us.”
Mouette looked aghast while Charles jumped to his feet, exclaiming, “He has certainly been guilty of duplicity before!”
“Sangdieu!” A deep, sardonic voice interjected from the doorway. “I hope you are not speaking of me.”
“Justin!” exclaimed Mouette. Rising, she went toward him with outstretched hands. “You have come just in time.”
“Just in time to bid my stepson au revoir.” With a cool smile, he glanced toward Charles. “I do not want to waste your time with a matter that does not concern you.”
Emeline watched as her half-brother flushed, made his farewells, and left the room. Already Justin was taking back control of the scene, but she knew him well. And she was very angry.
She rose but as he came toward her, she stepped back from his proffered embrace. “Sit down, please,” she said sternly.
Justin arched a brow above his silk eyepatch but went to sit beside Mouette. Cocking his head, he inquired with a hint of amusement, “Am I on trial, petite?”
For an instant, Emeline saw the roguishly irresistible father whom she had adored all her life. A part of her wished he might beguile her one more time, but then she remembered the note she had read that morning.
“This is serious, Papa,” she said. “I have reason to believe that my new life here in London has been a sham. Louise and I were not employed by Hart at all! Instead you manipulated us, making us believe that we were truly independent, making our own way, doing valuable work—” Her voice broke, which only made her angrier.
Mouette broke in then. “Darling…why do think your father has done this?”
Really, she thought, there was no point in trying to whitewash the truth. “I was at Hart’s new house today, and—”
“Alone?” Justin shouted. “At this hour of the morning? That blackguard—”
“I am speaking!” Emeline pointed a finger at him, and he closed his mouth.
“After Hart left for Lisbon, I saw a note that he had crumpled up and discarded. Imagine my shock to discover it was from you, Papa! You mentioned your bargain and said that I would never know who was truly behind Louise’s and my employment. ”
Her mother turned to stare at him. “Oh, Justin, how could you?”
He looked as if he was about to stand and proclaim his innocence but instead sank back against the settee and ran a hand over his face.
“I felt I had to do it. Emmie was wasting her life with that Anning female, traipsing around in the rocks at Lyme Regis, when she could have been taking London by storm!”
“But that was not what I wanted,” Emeline said in a tight voice.
“Eh bien, and so I gave you what you did want! A house of your own. Meaningful employment. Independence!”
“But, Papa,” she cried, “can’t you see? It was all counterfeit! And now that I know the truth, Louise and I will give up the house.”
“You are very harsh toward your papa,” he protested. “Perhaps I can redeem myself when you are living here again, with us.”
“Indeed, I am harsh today, with good cause.” Emeline stiffened her spine. “You can no longer cajole me as if I were still a child. And I certainly will not return to live under your roof!”
Looking offended, he protested, “You may not believe it today, but I did all of it for your own good.”
Mouette spoke again. “Justin, can’t you see that you have deceived and manipulated your own daughter, just as your mother did to you? Have you forgotten how incensed you were with Cerise?”
“How dare you compare me to Maman!” he shouted. “She perpetrated deceptions simply to fulfill her own notions of what was best for me! She—” He broke off then as Emeline lifted both brows and nodded at him.
“Grandmère taught you all her tricks,” she said evenly. “Beginning with your letter persuading Louise and me to return to London because you knew a gentleman who needed us to do research for him.”
Grimacing as if he had detected a bad smell, Justin swore, “Mon Dieu. It did not occur to me that I might be following in Maman’s footsteps.” He paused. “But still, ma fille, why can you not live here with us? Where else would you go?”
Emeline softened a bit toward him, but there was no time for more than that. “I am not certain what I will do next. I must think about it.”
Her mother broke in gently. “I perceive that you have feelings for Lord Jasper.” She patted the space between her and Justin. “Come and sit down and tell us about it.”
Emeline wasn’t ready to sit that close to her father, but she took a chair nearby and leaned forward.
“I do have feelings for Hart, but I now feel confused and betrayed by him as well. Also, I think we might say that he left England to get away from me, so it has been a double blow.” She blinked back tears.
“This has been a very emotional morning.”
Her mother turned to look at Justin. “You have made a big mistake in your dealings with your daughter. Will you begin to mend it by telling her the truth?”
“I am the villain,” he said reluctantly.
“The entire plot was my idea. Hartcliffe only agreed to help his brother, the duke. His Grace had borrowed from me to make a big investment in my new steamship, and he was about to lose it all due to an accident at sea. Hartcliffe tried to simply give me the money, but I had a better idea. His lordship could redeem his brother’s debt by posing as your employer.
” He paused. “I didn’t imagine he would cause you to fall in love with him. ”
“Hart didn’t cause it. It happened…very naturally.” She felt a tear escape and burn a trail down her cheek.
“Ah, ma petite.” Justin stretched out his arms in invitation, but she couldn’t go to him. Not yet. “It’s for the best that he has gone. Hartcliffe is not only too old for you, but also an outcast from society and a notorious libertine!”
“Fiddle.” Emeline rose to her feet. “I am very tired of men deciding what is best for me. I am the only one who can make that decision. Perhaps I want a libertine!”