Chapter 2
Fontus stared at Normanton House. A month gone, and he’d not found his wife.
His brother Mars had left a note, suggesting Dee might remain in Sussex, not too far from Brighton.
Were that the case, she may have already received the annulment, and he’d be free.
What an irony if Dee were living near Normanton House.
His brother Lovis, the Duke of Leigh, had ordered him here to court Lady Beatrix Sandrow. The proposed marriage was a peace offering to the Earl of Sandrow.
Fontus much preferred marriage to Dee over the misery of wedded life with a woman who hated him. Of course, without the annulment, having Dee and Lord Sandrow in close proximity could be disastrous. Perhaps not finding her was best.
Time to dance to whatever tune fate played for him. He cantered down the drive and dismounted before the impressive portico.
Fontus took his bags in hand, while a groom led his horse off to the stables.
A footman opened the front door before Fontus could knock.
“Welcome, sir?”
“Lord Fontus Leigh,” he informed the man as he entered.
“May I take your…”
“No, thank you. I prefer to keep my things.” Keeping his belongings close was a habit learned for survival.
“As you wish. I’ll see you to your room, my lord.”
On the second story, the footman stopped and opened the door at the far end of a corridor. “I’ll direct your valet here, when he arrives.”
“I did not bring a valet. I shall ring for assistance should I need any.”
“Then I shall return in an hour to escort you to the grand salon.”
Fontus put his hand on the door’s inner latch. “Thank you. However, that too is unnecessary, Captain Somerville and I are friends. I visited Normanton House frequently as a lad. Please inform the captain I am here.”
“Certainly, my lord.
Fontus closed and locked the door then wandered to the window to look out at the gardens behind the house. Two female figures ambled along the pathways admiring the fall foliage. One of them removed her bonnet, fanning her face with it. Sun glinted off hair the color of freshly minted pence.
Surely not. It could not be Dee. I’m imagining things.
She looked up as she returned her bonnet to her head.
He stepped aside, wishing to avoid being observed himself.
His time with the French resistance taught him caution.
Before leaving England, he’d been open and carefree.
The duke called it careless and irresponsible.
Years of war and diplomacy changed a man.
For the better he hoped. Marriage came with responsibilities alien to a youth exiled from school and family.
The young man Fontus once was would not understand.
What might wedded life be like? He imagined easy days of sharing work and confidences with Dee. Nights, mornings, perhaps an occasional afternoon of making love. Maybe a copper-haired child or two with expressive lapis eyes. However, Dee might not be the woman to bear his children.
An enduring marriage with Dee was an unlikely pipe dream.
He would never hold her to an arrangement made solely for her safety.
She undoubtedly had a number of suitors and wished herself shed of her once convenient spouse.
He’d see it done, surprised to find himself more interested in her happiness than his own. Of course, he must find her first.
A knock sounded.
He unlocked and opened the door. On the other side stood Robin Somerville, wash water and towels in hand. “By all that’s holy, has your brother lost his fortune and pressed you into service?”
“I encountered the maid on my way here and decided to save her a few steps.”
“Come in. Just like you to consider the needs of a servant, or anyone else for that matter. How you managed to exert any discipline over ordinary sailors is a mystery to me.” Fontus closed the door.
Robin set the towels, wash bowl, and pitcher of water on a table beneath a mirror opposite the bed.
“Ship’s discipline is essential for the survival of all aboard. I am nothing if not a creature of necessity.”
“True, you’ve been more than a good friend to me when I was in need,” Fontus remarked. “Your occasional help kept me alive during the war. You must tell me if there is ever an opportunity when I can return the favor.”
“We both survived some excessively dangerous situations,” Robin said. “What brings you to Normanton House?”
“I am here on Lovis’s orders and an errand of my own.”
Robin’s brow rose. “Care to share?”
“It’s complicated. Let’s sit, and I’ll explain.” Fontus gestured to a pair of cushioned chairs near the windows.
“Certainly. I’ll ring for whisky. Peter has some very good Strathnaver.”
Eventually, settled with drinks in hand, Fontus began. “I’m searching for a woman.”
Robin laughed. “There will be respectable women aplenty at the house party. If another sort of woman is your preference, I can introduce you to the local madams.”
“Thank you, but I’ve no need of a prostitute. I’m looking for one very respectable woman in particular.”
Both of Robin’s brows lifted. “Do tell.”
“If you are acquainted with her, you’ll recognize her as Lady Deoiridh Aitken.”
Robin laughed so hard he was forced to set his tumbler on a nearby table.
Fontus waited. “What is it you find so funny?” he asked, once the laughter became chuckles.
“She’s here.”
“She’s living with you and your brother? Please tell me you haven’t married her?”
Robin’s chuckles ceased. He stared at Fontus. “Certainly not.”
Fontus sighed.
“Why should Lady Aitken’s married state concern you?” Robin asked.
A few more words assured Fontus he had no serious competition for Dee’s affections.
“Are you in search of a wife?” Robin queried.
“Not precisely.”
“Well, if you’ve marriage to Lady Deoiridh on your mind, you’ve your work cut out for you.”
“How so?” Fontus queried.
“My sister-in-law has been playing matchmaker for more than two years with no success. Lady Deoiridh has refused every suitor thrown at her.”
Has it been so long? I recall our kiss as if it just happened.
“Including you?” he asked of Robin.
“Heaven forbid. The lady and I are friends. Indeed, we help each other avoid Penelope’s machinations.” Robin’s gaze narrowed. “Not that I’d object to a little dalliance were Lady Dee interested.”
Despite Robin’s teasing, Fontus wanted no doubt that Dee was his.
Until the annulment, that is.
“Is she interested?” He studied Robin.
“Not in the slightest.”
“And you’ve tried?”
“No, and I’ve no intention of trying.”
“Good.” Fontus sipped his whisky.
“You’ve obviously set your sights on her yourself. How did you come to meet her?”
“I was in Paris, drowning my sorrows at the news of Boney’s escape from Elba. I over-indulged and slept in the tavern. The next morning a young lady woke me, seeking help.”
“She obviously didn’t know you,” Robin said. “Or she would have run the other way.”
“She was fleeing the attentions of an unwanted suitor, name of Barbeau. We managed to escape his search. Then she asked me to marry her.”
Robin straitened abruptly. “You’re joking.”
“Not at all. She insisted the marriage would be one of convenience, and when she knew she was safe from the dastard chasing her, she would seek an annulment.”
“You agreed to this?” Robin’s jaw dropped.
“My affections were not tied elsewhere. She was attractive, intelligent, and intriguing. Yes, I agreed.”
“Then what?”
“We were married by a traveling vicar who witnessed the marriage lines. Since my wife wished to be able to annul the marriage and it was never recorded in any church register, I left the document with her. Immediately afterward, her friends in the resistance spirited us away. We rode non-stop then took ship from Dieppe to Brighton harbor where we parted. I’ve not seen her since. Now the need to find her is urgent.”
“Amazing.”
“Please, Robin, do not reveal our marriage to anyone.”
“Obviously, since she will obtain an annulment.”
“Now that she’s found, I can speak with her about it. For all I know I’m a free man.”
“Do you want that?”
“I only spent a few weeks with her,” he hedged. Weeks that lingered in his dreams and every waking thought.
“In close association. It is enough, I believe.”
“Perhaps, but my wishes cannot matter, and there is a complication.”
“What can be more complicated than not being able to find your wife?”
“You remember Lovis?”
“Indeed. Once one encounters the Duke of Leigh, one does not forget the experience.”
“My brother made possible my return to England. He achieved a rapprochement with Sandrow.”
“Truly? Did the earl forgive you for the death of his son in that duel?”
“Not that I am aware.” Fontus stared into his whisky. “I aimed to miss. Vincent moved in the same moment I fired.”
“I know,” Robin soothed. “The incident was reported accurately in that rag The Teatime Tattler. Too bad, Lord Sandrow cannot believe it. He has wanted you hanged for years. What changed his mind?”
“Lovis persuaded him I would be an excellent husband for his daughter.”
Robin barked a laugh. “And you already wed. That’s rich. Will you commit bigamy with bird-witted Beatrix, or will you be forced to leave England again?”
“Lady Beatrix is a bluestocking and far from bird-witted. I intend to find out if I am still wed. If I am not, I shall bow to Lovis’s commands.”
“And if you are wed?”
“Then I must beg Lovis’s assistance to resolve the situation. I lack enough influence to obtain an annulment, or appease Sandrow.”
Robin shook his head and drained his tumbler. “I don’t envy you.”
“Also, I must keep my wife safe from that French worm, Barbeau. With Napoleon at St. Helena, the Bourbon monarchy is assured. I understand Barbeau managed to hang onto the fringes of Louis’ favor, and continues to seek a fortune.
If he learns where Deoiridh is, he may renew his efforts to force her into marriage. ”
“I’ve heard the name. Describe him, and I will spread the word among the servants and local residents to be alert.”
“Barbeau is about your height and coloring. Dark hair, brown eyes. He is loyal only to the highest bidder. During the war, he spied for both sides.”
“A truly despicable character.”
Fontus drained his glass and set it aside. “Does your sister-in-law still keep country hours?”
“Indeed, so I’d best be on my way.”
“It is good to see you, Robin.”
“You as well, Fontus.”
“Lady Deoiridh has been invited to dinner.” Robin spoke with his hand on the doorknob.
“She doesn’t reside here?”
“No, she occupies a small cottage, Rilbridge, a short walk from the rear gardens. The lady claims she’d rather live retired. So, my brother gave her the cottage for as long as she needed.”
“Yet, she intends to be present at some of the house party events?”
“As her mother is one of the guests, I believe that is so.”
“Her mother is here?” Horror chased relief around Fontus’s stomach. Lady Aitken complicated matters.
“You’ve not met your mother-in-law?”
“If Deoiridh’s mother could find her, Barbeau will too. I doubt she knows I exist. How long has she been here?”
“About a week. I understand she intends to return to the French court. Evidently she’s some sort of confidant to King Louis.”
“Deoiridh told me of the relationship. That court is rife with rumors about an affair between the two, but Dee says they’ve never been more than good friends.”
“I admire Lady Aitken then. Friendship with a royal is never an easy burden.”
“The reason, I suspect, King Louis values Lady Aitken over other women.”
“It is none of my business. I’ll see you in the Grand Salon. We still gather there before dining.”
“Until then.”
Robin left, and Fontus locked the door.
He must plan for Deoiridh’s safety. He also must decide how to approach the topic of their marriage.
Before having that discussion, he should probably decide if remaining married to the most fascinating woman he’d ever met was what he wanted.
Lust, pleasant as it was, could not serve as foundation for marriage.
Nor could memories, no matter how delightful. Years passed, and people changed.
Had lust ever driven me where Dee is concerned? If so, why did I not take advantage of the opportunity marriage provided.
He knew why. He respected the lady. He admired her courage, her inventiveness, her determination.
She spent most of her life as part of the Bourbon court, yet remained more unassuming and candid than any courtier he’d yet encountered.
At the same time, she kept a high standard of courtesy, decorum and discretion.
Lovis would love her, another motive for remaining wed.
Furthermore, he now had prospects to offer a wife that he had not had previously.
Given his work with Castlereagh, he could present himself as employed and possessed of an excellent future.
She would make a splendid diplomat’s wife.
Would she want that role? Did he want to ask her?
He simply did not know. He’d give it more thought.
Meanwhile, he settled at the desk, and started his message to the Foreign Secretary regarding information learned over the past month.
He followed that with a note to Lovis, requesting help finding Barbeau, but gave no explanation.
Last, he rattled off a missive to Castlereagh informing him of the delay in his return to the ambassador’s service. For how long, he could not say.