Chapter Nine
Meredith stared up at Jules’s handsome face. It was hard to believe what she’d just heard.
Believe what he’d just suggested.
Paris.
Her. Meredith Jones. Go to Paris.
His smiled widened, as though he were enjoying her flabbergasted reaction.
“What would it look like if I just left, with you…for Paris? It would hardly be proper.”
“It would look like you are my new assistant, or pupil, whichever you wish.” He gently stroked the back of his thumb down her cheek.
“I… I don’t know.” What on earth was she doing? Why hadn’t she just said no and stomped from the room? Because it was Paris, that was why, and the things she had heard about it had made her yearn to visit at least once in her humdrum life.
And to go with Jules. Could it get any better? The suggestion was a sweet treat dangling right before her for the taking.
But oh, what would it look like? And she knew full well Jules couldn’t be trusted not to kiss her, hold her…touch her in the special place that took her to such ecstasy.
“How about I speak to Mrs. Dove-Lyon?” he suggested, his lips a mere whisper from hers. “Reschedule your chess lessons, explain that it is all aboveboard, perfectly honorable, and then I’ll get the crossing booked.”
“She will not allow it. Of that, I am certain.”
“You are a grown woman, Meredith.” His voice was a little firmer. “It is for you to decide and then together, we can make it happen.”
“My mother sent me here from Wales to…” She shook her head, not wanting to admit she’d resorted to such measures to find marriage.
“So say you are going home to visit your mother,” he said, a mischievous twinkle filling his eyes. “She cannot deny you that.”
“I can’t. I…” Oh, but she could. How difficult would it be? Not very.
“Meredith,” he whispered as he moved closer still.
“You really are a…” She stared into his eyes.
What was it about this troublesome man that she couldn’t resist?
It wasn’t just his handsome face and his perfectly formed body, it was the way he saw the world as a playground.
A place where he could pick and choose destiny, a place where rules were meant to be broken and fun was there for the taking.
“I am a what?” he asked, barely holding back a grin.
She swallowed. “You are… I mean… I…”
“Just say yes. One little word.” His lips brushed hers so softly, it was like a butterfly wing brushing past. “Please.”
“Yes.” She placed her hands on his chest, over his woolen jacket. “I will, as long as Mrs. Dove-Lyon is accepting of me traveling to Wales just before this tournament.”
“She will be. A sick mother takes priority.”
“‘A sick mother.’” She shook her head. “You really do have a solution for every obstacle that stands in your way.”
“That is all part of my charm.” He chuckled and kissed her. Not in the wild, desperate way he had before, but in a gentle, reverent way that made her heart melt and her body beg to be claimed.
And then he was gone. With a few sharp footsteps and a slam of the door, Meredith found herself alone and using the wall to prop herself up.
She touched her lips. What in God’s good name had just happened? A chess lesson, yes, but then she’d allowed herself to be persuaded to take a secret trip to a foreign land with a man whose reputation was more than a little tarnished.
A man who had become all she could think about.
After blowing out the candles, Meredith made her way to her attic room with her returned umbrella. As she turned the last corner, she found Nancy helping herself to a glass of water from a chipped, porcelain jug.
“How was your evening?” Nancy asked with a smile.
“Interesting.” Meredith wrapped her arms around herself. Her emotions were pinging around so wildly, she was sure Nancy would see them.
“Oh?”
“Two lessons.” Meredith pressed her lips together.
“And was one Mr. Habsburg, by any chance?”
“Er…yes.”
“And did he behave?”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“Well, he’s obviously got a soft spot for you. He likes what he sees, or perhaps he likes your witty tongue and your sharp mind.” She tapped the side of her head.
“He’s just keen to teach me about art. A sharing of knowledge, you know. I teach him chess, and he’s introduced me to the art world.”
“You keep telling yourself that, Meredith, if it helps to not fall for him.”
“It’s true. And I am not falling for him.”
Nancy stepped closer and placed her hand on Meredith’s shoulder. “Have fun with a handsome man, by all means. But that handsome man is a rake, and not the marrying kind.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Because if he were, he’d be married by now. To someone.”
“Perhaps he just hasn’t met the right woman.” Meredith tipped her chin, feeling suddenly protective of Jules.
Nancy shrugged. “That may well be the case, but the man has an expensive art addiction. He’ll marry into money if he marries at all, you mark my words.”
Meredith gritted her teeth. Jules had plenty of money of his own from what she’d seen.
“And word on the street is the Duke of Marlborough is still being most insistent that he marry his daughter after their tryst on the private terrace.”
“There was no tryst and why would he be so insistent?”
“I suppose it could be the Habsburg name. It’s old royalty, ancient royalty, and pious to boot. Maybe that appeals to a man who has everything. Grandchildren who can trace lineage back to the Holy Roman Emperor.”
“That seems somewhat wild, given Jules’s ancestors were illegitimate back in the fifteenth century.”
Nancy tapped the side of her head again. “Who knows how the male mind works. Certainly not like ours.”
Meredith bit on her bottom lip. That much was true.
“What?” Nancy asked.
“He’s asked me to go to Paris with him,” Meredith blurted out. “To an art exhibition.”
“He’s done what?” Nancy’s eyes widened.
Meredith knew her friend had heard. “Paris. France.”
“Mrs. Dove-Lyon will never give permission.”
“That is why I won’t tell her. I’ll say I’m going to visit my mother for a few days.”
“Miss Jones.” Nancy blew out a breath. “You are playing with fire.”
“No, I am not. It will all be aboveboard.”
“Mr. Jules Habsburg aboveboard? That’ll be the day the Thames turns to gold.”
“He’s really not as bad as you portray him.”
Nancy shrugged. “I just know that all men want one thing, and handsome ones get it easier than most.”
“And what is that? The one thing.” She gripped her umbrella handle.
“To get between your legs, Miss Jones. That’s what they want.” She sighed exaggeratedly. “A roll in the hay, fun in the sack, a grind, a hump, a little bit of rogering, screwing, and rutting—”
“Nancy!” Meredith looked left and right. The corridor was thankfully empty. “You can’t say such things.” Her cheeks were hot just listening to them.
“I can if it warns you of the potential pitfalls that lie ahead, my friend.”
“I’m warned.” Meredith held up her palms. “He’s bad news and not to be trusted.” She paused. “But I do want to learn more about the great masterpieces, and Paris is full of them. So I will go if I possibly can.”
“Then so be it.” Nancy shrugged. “And let’s just hope your willpower is strong enough to keep your hymen intact, because with his dark eyes and smooth talk, a nun would be in dire straits.”
And with that, Nancy turned and let herself into her bedchamber.
Meredith stared at a knot in the wood of her door. How was it possible to feel both excited and full of trepidation all at once? The feeling wasn’t unpleasant; it was as though the dawn of something new were bringing light and hope into her world.
And the instigator of that dawn.
Jules Habsburg.
Mrs. Dove-Lyon accepted Meredith’s story about a trip to Wales and so Meredith found herself in a carriage, dressed in a new burgundy gown complete with matching shawl, heading to Dover.
There, a small vessel would take Meredith on her first overseas trip, before another private carriage would complete the onward journey. In total, it would take three days with overnight stops at small inns on the side of the road. Jules promised they would have separate bedchambers on the journey.
“This is exhilarating!” Meredith gripped the rail of the boat and nodded at the towering, white cliffs of Dover shrinking by the second. “And the sails, they are so full. This will take no time at all.”
Jules chuckled at her side. “We have been fortunate. The weather has been kind to us.”
“I am excited to get there.” She smiled at him and watched the way the wind swept his hair back from his brow. “To see the art you have told me about.”
“You will love it, I am sure. The Louvre, which used to be the Musée Napoleon, is still wonderful to visit despite the return of many pieces of art to other establishments following the Battle of Waterloo.”
“That is what I am excited for.”
“And the French are exceptional at making cheese. We will sample them all until you have a favorite.” He smiled and pushed his hair back as the wind flicked it forward. “And cream-filled waffles. They will be your new delight, I am sure.”
Her mouth watered. “I can’t wait.”
“It won’t be long.” He stood close, closer than was strictly necessary or proper, and they stared at the frothy, white waves below. “Only a few days until we are able to sample all the delights France has to offer.”
What would her father say if he could see her now? Traveling the world to continue learning as he’d always insisted upon. She hoped he’d be proud. She hoped he wouldn’t judge her for having feelings for a man who wasn’t the marrying kind.
Paris was chaotic and charming. The women wore fashionable feathered hats, lace, and velvet, and the sound of transportation bells rang up and down the streets.
Meredith peered from the carriage window, taking it all in.
Workers rushed to and fro and there was an atmosphere of productivity and anticipation.
Shop windows crept passed and she marveled at the material on display, the delicatessens with queues outside and the stalls selling everything from small paintings to jewelry to roasted nuts to glasses of dark wine.