Chapter Nine #2
Eventually, as the sun was setting and spreading amber shadows over the city streets, they pulled up outside Le Meurice, a classic hotel festooned with arches and tall sash windows.
Topiary trees stood sentry-like by the large, brass-trimmed front door and a roll of red carpet crept onto the sidewalk.
As they alighted, a fresh wave of excitement gripped Meredith. Never in her life would she have imagined swapping the rolling green hills of Wales for the glamor and decadence of Paris.
Instantly, two doormen rushed to collect the trunks from their carriage. Jules gave the driver a hefty tip, then with his hand on the small of Meredith’s back, led her into the hotel.
She paused and gaped around. Dazzlingly-bright flowers tumbled from vases, the ceiling and walls were lined with gold gilding, and a large painting that she could instantly recognize as quality took pride of place beside a wide staircase.
And the air, it smelled of honey and vanilla, sweet and seductive and a welcome change from the scents of the city through which they’d just been driven.
“What do you think?” Jules asked.
“I think…it’s incredible.” She nodded at a door to her left. “And a restaurant too.”
“Oh, yes, it has quite the reputation for being excellent. I will take you there to dine.”
“You will?”
“Of course. We must eat, after all.”
She nodded and licked her lips. Days of traveling had made her both weary and hungry.
At the reception desk, Jules smiled at the young man holding a pen and standing before a wall of keys. “Bonjour. J’ai deux chambres réservées chez vous.”
He spoke French with the receptionist for several moments.
Meredith’s eyes widened yet further. Jules could speak French? That was a surprise. Oh, and he sounded so nice when he did. Seductive and mysterious. A small thrill went through her, settling in her lower belly as he continued.
After a few sharp exchanges, there was a pause and Jules turned to her with a frown.
“What is it?” she asked.
“We have only one bedchamber reserved.”
“I… I don’t understand. We had two at each inn and you said…”
“I know, and I am sorry. It seems the hotel presumed we were married, as I booked both rooms under my name.”
“And they just… They just presumed?”
“Yes, they are full to capacity because of the art exhibition, which is proving to be most popular, and it was that or cancel our reservation. I suppose we should be grateful that we have somewhere to rest our heads at all.”
“But… But we are not married.” She glanced around, her heart thumping. “It would be most scandalous to share a bedchamber.”
He sighed and the horizontal worry line between his brows deepened. “I suppose I could try to find an inn out of town and let you have the room here at Le Meurice.”
Meredith rubbed her temple; an ache was starting up.
“Let’s look at the room first. Perhaps it has a divider, a screen, or heavy curtain and a semblance of modesty can be maintained.
” It was bad enough she’d forgone a chaperone, yet now to be sharing a bedchamber with her male companion.
What on earth would Mrs. Dove-Lyon say? And her poor mother, she’d have a funny turn if she ever found out.
“Merci.” Jules took the key from the receptionist. His jaw was set tight. “Apparently, our luggage is in the room waiting for us.”
Meredith had no choice but to cross the hotel lobby and climb the stairs. With each step, she imagined the gossip about her and Jules Habsburg growing. Swelling like a rising tide about to crest and swamp her, drown her, wash her away, never to be seen in the ton again.
“Please try not to worry too much,” Jules said as he put the key into the lock of room number nineteen and turned it. “No one knows us here. Like the staff, they will presume we are married.”
“But we are not.” She held up her bare left hand. “No ring. See?”
His mouth tightened as he pushed the door open. “We will get you a fake one.”
Nancy had been right. Jules was not the marrying kind, though it seemed he was up for spinning a yarn to the good people of Le Meurice about a fake marriage.
The room was large with wooden panels on the walls and a floor-to-ceiling window looking out over the busy street. Heavy, gold-threaded curtains draped onto the sumptuous scarlet carpet and the bed was enormous with swags of silk material creating a decadent canopy.
“It’s big,” Jules declared, dropping the key onto a shiny, walnut desk.
“Yes.” She glanced around. In the corner was a door to what she presumed was a water closet. She hoped it had a fire and a bathtub; if so, she’d make use of it soon. “But only one bed.”
“I will sleep on there.” He pointed at a chaise longue that held a large cushion with the image of a peacock on it.
“Yes.” Her cheeks flushed. “Good.”
She closed her eyes. They’d just spent the last three days together traveling, talking about art and chess and Wales and his Habsburg ancestry, so why did she suddenly feel shy about being alone in this room with him?
“Meredith.”
Suddenly, he was in front of her.
She opened her eyes and stared into his.
“I really am sorry. I know you must think that I orchestrated this, but I promise you I didn’t.”
She studied him. There were no tiny expressions to indicate a lie. He didn’t cover his mouth as he spoke or break his gaze from hers.
“I believe you.”
He nodded, though still with a graveness to the downturn of his mouth. “Here, put this on your ring finger.” He held up the tiny, brass ring that had been on the key. “I think it will fit.”
She took the slim, light band of metal. Sure enough, it fit her finger perfectly.
“There.” His mouth twitched into a half-smile. “Respectability reinstated.”
For a moment, she stared at it, unused to seeing any ring on her finger, least of all one on her wedding-ring finger.
For months, she’d hoped Mrs. Dove-Lyon would find her a groom, a man who excited her mind as well as her body.
She’d had no luck, and now it seemed the best she could hope for was a phony marriage with a man who had the ability to persuade her to drop all sense of decorum.
He took her hand and raised it to his lips then very gently pressed a kiss over the ring. “It is the best I can do.”
“I know.” She nodded, sensing the hidden meaning behind his words. He would never marry her; he’d never marry anyone.
Which left Meredith with the decision to either accept that and continue enjoying his company in the knowledge that he’d never make her his wife, or find a way to untangle herself from this crazy need to be with him, to be close to him, to watch his face as he spoke, concentrated, and smiled.
“We should freshen up and then eat,” he said, dropping her hand. “Please, you use the water closet first. When I have stayed here in the past, the bathtub has been full of warm water only minutes after arrival. There is a servants’ door behind the fireplace so they can be discreet.”
She brightened instantly. “Well, that is very civilized.”
“Indeed.” He grinned as the tension in the room evaporated.
“Then if you don’t mind, I’ll prepare for our evening meal.”
Meredith nodded and went to the water closet.
A little tingle of excitement went through her at the thought of stripping naked so close with just a door between them.
Would he think of her without her clothes on?
Sinking into the warm water? She didn’t know, but she was sure she’d be thinking of him.