Chapter Fourteen
London
Giselle, Amber, and Gus sat in her bedroom as Inès’s maid Mary laced up the back of her new gown.
She’d asked the modiste if she had in her stock a shimmering vanilla silk. Though the lady had nothing when first Inès asked, the modiste went to a colleague who offered her a rare silk from Lyon shot with threads of gold.
Inès had approved immediately, and the dressmaker set to work.
She had delivered the gown this morning.
The translucent fabric provided an appropriately maidenly look but held the latest Parisian elements of pleated, puffed sleeves and angled drape of skirt.
Over the past two years, Inès had come to crave Parisian fashion.
With access to funds from her protector, Rossard, she had been a leader in local salons.
He had wanted her to look smart and appear above them all.
She had done her very best at it. Imitating the styles that Empress Josephine and her friend, Thérésa Cabarrus, Madame Tallien, made popular, Inès had reigned over Boulogne.
She had spent hundreds of Rossard’s money.
Pushing away thoughts of the past, she smoothed the delicate fabric over her hips. She turned with a flourish and sought the opinions of her friends. Each one had a good word or more for the silk, the color, the style, the quality of the tailoring.
“Oh, that I could wear a cut so slim.” Gus patted her stomach. “I cannot lose this rounded tummy!”
“You will, and soon,” Amber said, chuckling. “I gained so much weight when I had our last child, I thought I still carried another baby.”
Giselle winced. “All of you are not helping my fear of becoming as big as a galleon!”
“We should form a club,” offered Amber, her hands clasped together. “Go walking every morning. What do you think?”
“In this weather?” Gus never liked the winters.
“Then…only when the sun shines,” Amber offered.
Giselle huffed. “I am just recovering from morning illness, so let’s not go far. Not at first. I am not capable.”
Inès dismissed her maid. “Thank you for your help this morning, Mary. I hope to see you in the main salon with all the staff for the wedding.”
The girl curtsied, murmured her thanks, bowed to one and all, then left.
“I know what we should do,” said Gus. “We can meet at Green Park. It is convenient to all of us.”
“A fine idea,” said Amber. “In front of Spencer House. We can wave to Lady Spencer from the grass!”
“She might want to join us!” Gus smiled, approving of her own idea.
“And Inès,” said Gus, “when you return from your honeymoon, you can join us.”
“Can we ask where you go?” Giselle had a mischievous twinkle in her blue eyes.
“For our honeymoon?” Inès was grateful for the change of topic. She could not walk with these friends each day. They knew her too well. They were practiced in not revealing much, but Inès was not. “Ask all you like. I do not know. Evan will not tell me.”
“Secrets!” Giselle drummed her fingers together. “I love them.”
“I bet it’s to be his house in Kent,” Gus said. “I’ve heard so much from Halsey about it that I bet he would take you there.”
Inès did not care where it was, as long as the trip was short, the carriage warm, and her husband beside her for kisses.
“When you return and start to call on us, we will be looking for even bigger smiles on your lips than what we see this morning.” Gus winked, and all of them chuckled. “But no, wait! I see a shadow in your eyes, my dear. You are not yourself and this is your wedding day. Inès, what worries you?”
Inès whirled and stared into her mirror. The full-length cheval showed almost everything about her. Figure, form, complexion—everything except the secrets she kept from her fiancé.
She faced her three friends once more. The silk flowed. The feeling was fluid, light, sinuous, and deceiving.
Amber was out of her chair, her arms going around Inès’s shoulders. “What worries you?
Gus frowned, while Giselle leaned forward.
Amber put a hand to Inès’s cheek. “You have not told him about what you did for Ramsey and me in Paris, have you?”
Gus narrowed her eyes on the two of them.
Inès bit her lip and shook her head. “No.”
“Nor how you worked for me,” said Gus.
“No.”
“You must tell him. He will breathe more easily,” Amber said, as she stroked her cheek. “He will be alarmed, I imagine. But he will get over it.”
This was more than Inès could bear to discuss. “I no longer run messages for you and Ramsey.” She faced Gus. “Nor do I do that for you.”
“Of course not,” said Gus.
Inès put a hand to her head. “I dare not tell him all I did. He would lock me away.”
“You mean…?” Gus stared at her. “You mean what you have done most lately?”
Inès held her tongue on pain of death, but stared into Gus’s eyes. Her friend could not know what she had done. Could she? Would her husband tell her? Would Scarlett?
It should not matter. She should not care what her friends knew of her. But she did. Curse this internal torment between her past, her present, her loves and her duties!
Giselle looked at her oddly.
“Oh, sweetheart.” Amber rushed to take both Inès’s hands, apology in her eyes. “Forget that. Trust me. The man adores you. He will not desert you. Whatever it is, he most likely will love you more for it.”
And the day may come when he dare not love me at all.
“You are his equal, Inès.” Amber was adamant. “Truly a gift to a marriage. One of equals.”
“His proper mate,” said Gus.
“Marry him and enjoy yourself,” Amber assured her.
A knock came at the door.
Inès caught a breath. “They want me to go down.”
Gus got up and opened the door. Friendly stood there with Scarlett Hawthorne.
Gus, as hostess for this wedding, had invited Scarlett.
She and Scarlett were friends. It seemed natural to the outside world that the light of the London business world and of Society should come.
Inès expected that Scarlett’s ever-present escort and chief clerk, Todd Carlton, was most likely downstairs.
She had not expected Scarlett to come upstairs.
That lady and Inès were acquaintances, supervisor and subordinate, not friends, and they never would be.
Oui, Inès earned a salary from Scarlett’s coffers, hidden in deposits through different bankers, all of it compensation for her job well done in Boulogne.
Scarlett knew what she had done then. But if the woman had any inkling of what Inès was now about to do here in London, the fiery-haired spymaster would rush her off to some secluded hovel and have her killed.
So here, now, Inès must make a show that none of that was true. She must act like it. She was a free agent. Unencumbered. Unassigned. A bride about to be wed to a man who wished only to be with her. Live with her. Love her forever and die with her near.
“Scarlett,” Inès said, “I am delighted you have come.”
“I could not allow it to occur without my witnessing such a marvelous union. I wanted to extend my best wishes. I wish you great happiness, my dear.” Scarlett kissed her on both cheeks. “The two of you make a very charming couple.”
Giselle grinned and took Inès’s hand. “Come down. You must forget all these people and enjoy yourself.”
Amber hooked an arm in Inès’s. “Yes. Let’s do go down, shall we? All of us need to see you settled. No more fears, oui? No more debates with yourself. You are about to be a very happy woman.” She rolled her large, dark eyes. “A man who loves you can change your entire life.”
Inès rallied to the very idea. “I want that.”
Amber patted her hand. “Let’s make that a reality.”
#
Halsey dismissed his valet. “Go. Get ready yourself. I want you to enjoy yourself today at this wedding and for the next two weeks.”
“I worry, my lord, that you will need me.”
“No, Simms. The way of honeymoons is only a path for brides and grooms.”
The young man demurred. “If you say so, sir.”
“I do. One day you may decide you wish to marry.” Halsey had noticed how the fellow watched the new upstairs maid with a glint in his eyes. “I hope to send you off alone. Now leave me!”
Simms disappeared through his special valet’s door in the far corner.
Halsey inhaled, taking one last look at his new formal black wedding attire. His tailor had once more done a splendid job. He ran a hand down the silver embossed buttons of his satin waistcoat.
A knock came at his far hall door. He rounded his dressing room alcove. Whoever it was, he hoped they could be brief and then be gone! “Come in!”
“Good morning, my darling.” His mother stepped into his sitting room. She was attired in her favorite pearls to complement the morning gown of palest blue and sapphire. “I will not detain you.”
He went to her and took her offered hand, kissed it, and led her to one of his two chairs before the fireplace. “But you have come to give me a message on my wedding day.”
“Indeed I do, sir. What kind of mother would I be if I sent you off to your new life without a few words of wisdom?”
He sat in the opposite chair and absorbed the warmth from the fire and the heat from her affection. Folding his hands, he arched a brow. “I am ready.”
“I like her.”
“I know. I am pleased.”
“I am most certain I will soon love her.”
As I do. “I am delighted at that, too.”
“What she has done, the life she has lived before she came to our shores, we—meaning you—may never know.”
His mother had always been very perceptive of others’ character. “I am very aware.”
“You are a man who possesses a wealth of insight into the world at large.”
He took that as the compliment it was and waited for the rest.
She pursed her lips in thought, then said, “I know you advise the prime minister. I know you work with Carlisle and Durham. I suspect you may even have persuaded Scarlett Hawthorne to share her secrets with you about her influence on the Continent.”
“I am not at liberty to confirm or deny that.”
“I know. I say that only as a preamble to my main message, my dear.”