Destiny's Kiss (24 page)

“I don't have to obey your orders. You aren't my mistress any longer, and you aren't Philippe's.” Only bravado let her add the last. If Philippe had written that letter to Madame Fortier, this might be part of what they had planned.

“You are nothing, but what I've made you!”

“You're right. You arranged for me to become Philippe's wife, and someday, God willing, the mother of his children.” When Madame Fortier gasped, Lirienne allowed haughtiness to sift into her voice. “I'm sorry for you, but you can't hurt us any longer.”

“No?”

“No!”

Reaching into her bodice again, Madame Fortier drew out a folded paper. She pressed it into Lirienne's hand. “See that Philippe receives this.” She laughed. “If you weren't an ignorant peasant, you could read it.”

“I could have Agathe read it to me.”

She scooped up the purse. “Then everyone in Azilum will know how easily I have won back what I never lost.” Laughing, she swayed away.

Lirienne wanted to tear the paper into small pieces, but could not. She carried it into the house and put it on the table, anchoring it with the salt cellar. As she waited for Philippe to return, her gaze went again and again to the page.

Her grim spirits were as low as the sky when clouds surged into the valley to release a deluge. The weather must have slowed the unloading because as it grew dark, Philippe still did not return. If he had gone to Madame Fortier and—

A horse whinnied, and then hoofbeats pounded past the house. Lirienne rushed to throw open the back door. In dismay, she saw the gate was open. Grabbing her cloak, she ran to check on the horses. She secured it when she saw most of them were there, but Cristal was gone.

No one was on the common. If she went to where they must still be unloading the boat, the horse might get lost in the forest and hurt herself. All of Philippe's dreams were wrapped up in that horse. All of his dreams and hers. She glanced toward Madame Fortier's cottage with a shudder, but turned to see a flash of white on the road leading toward Mr. Slater's house. Was that Cristal?

The wind tried to twist away her cape as she ran, calling the horse's name, along the road after Cristal. The path rose steeply as it followed the river. She peered through the rain. Maybe she should return and get help.

Hoofbeats crashed through the trees. Suddenly a horse appeared out of the night. A white horse! She smiled when she saw a tall silhouette on the horse. His dark cape flowed back, and she ran forward.

“Philippe! You found her! I—” She screamed and turned to flee as the horse surged toward her.

A whip slashed at her. With a cry, she leaped aside. Her breath exploded out as she struck a tree. She put her hand to her head and touched blood. Her ears rang with the force of the blow.

Hearing laughter, she stared in disbelief as the horse wheeled, coming toward her again. She whirled to escape as the whip rose again.

This could not be real! Her loving husband could not be this madman. Her feet slid on the wet grass. She teetered on a steep bank. The whip flashed out with a snap. She screamed as she lost her balance. Her baby! She must protect her baby. Pain dragged her to the bottom of the hill before swallowing her.

Eighteen

Philippe rubbed his lower back. It ached as viciously as his head. Trying to finish the unloading in the rain had been a mistake, but Vachel had wanted all the newcomers settled tonight.

“At least it's done,” Yves said, kneading his fingers together.

“It's only stacked by the river. Tomorrow we have to get it into the village.”

Yves chuckled. “That can be done by cart, if we can find one.”

“Ennis Slater will lend us his, I'm sure.” He smiled. “I'll ask Lirienne to make him a loaf of that sweet bread he really likes.”

“So there's no trouble there any longer?”

Philippe did not pretend not to understand. Nothing stayed secret in this small settlement. “Slater is a decent man, and I trust my wife.”

“That's good because—”

“Philippe,
mon cher
, can you help me open this case?”

He paused and looked at the open doorway where Charmaine stood in a cascade of lace. With a weary smile, he motioned for Yves to continue across the common without him.

Yves took his arm. “You trust your wife, but can she trust you?”

His smile vanished as he jerked his arm away. He had heard the whispers and seen the stares all day. Had they expected him to slip away from unloading the boat to seduce Charmaine? It was too dark to read Yves's expression. He did not need to. The accusations were loud in his neighbor's voice. Without replying, he walked to Charmaine's cottage.

“
Mon cher
, come in.” Charmaine rushed to him in a cloud of a crimson wrapper which opened deeply at her bosom. She clapped her hands to dismiss the young woman who was unpacking a trunk.

“But, Madame, where do you wish me to go?” asked the maid.

“I don't care. Just go.”

Philippe put out his hand to halt the young woman. “Charmaine, this isn't France. There are wolves and other wild beasts.” He smiled. “Why don't you tell me which case you need to have opened?”

“There's no case.” Charmaine frowned. “I thought you wanted time alone with me. Isn't that what you told me?”

“I told you that we need some time to talk privately.” Glancing at the maid, he said, “Go next door. Madame Davignon will be pleased to show off her son to you.”

“Yes,
mon seigneur
.” With, a curtsy, she ran out.

Philippe flinched. A more lyrical voice echoed in his mind, pulling him back to the day he had asked Lirienne to marry him. Then she had answered each of his questions in the same fearful tone. Fear of Charmaine, he knew now. He wondered why he had been deaf to that when he had called at the Fortiers' house.

Pale arms reached up around him to stroke his chest. Leaning her head against his back, Charmaine whispered, “So democratic you are here,
mon cher
. You send a maid off to call on my neighbors as if she were a lady.” She laughed. “Has that lowborn harlot changed you so much?”

“If you are referring to Lirienne,” he said as he brushed her hands away so he could face her, “she is no harlot.”

She went to a bench. “Sit with me, Philippe. I'm so frightened of this strange place. I never would have come here with a single maid if I had suspected you would leave me alone since I arrived.”

He stayed by the door. “My life here is nothing like the one I had in France. Now I must toil hard.”

“Do your muscles ache?” she cooed. “I could massage them for you.”

“Unlike when we last spoke in France, I have someone who loves me and whom I love.”

“I loved you then, and you loved me.” She grasped his hand. “You loved me enough to trust me to oversee your estate if something happened to you.”

“Yes, I loved you.” He pulled his hand from her cloying grip. “But you never loved me.”

“Let me prove that you are wrong.” She stood and glanced toward the bed.

“Do you forget I'm married, Charmaine?”

“Is this what this asylum offers? Bourgeois standards which speak solely of work and not of pleasure?” She held out her arms. “Hold me,
mon cher
.”

Philippe laughed coldly. “You haven't heard a word I've said. Has it always been like this?”

Her long lashes brushed her cheeks as they fluttered in astonishment. “Philippe, I want you. Can this wilderness have changed you so much that you no longer want me?”

He did not answer as her fingers brought his face toward hers. So many nights before he had left France, he had dreamed of the moment when he would hold her again and delight in her earthy pleasures. She was a young man's fantasy, as lusty as she was voluptuous. She had been all he'd wanted until he'd discovered what awaited him in Lirienne's arms.

He pushed her clinging hands away. “No, it won't work.”

“Why not?” She let the shoulder of her dressing gown droop. “Are you going to let your lowborn wife keep you from me, because she fears being alone?”

Philippe shoved her fingers away once more. “Lirienne has many admirers who would be glad to take my place in her bed.”

She sniffed. “Peasant farmers and men who are desperate for the company of a woman. Who else would want that wench who should be grateful enough to you to let you enjoy a woman who can give you the pleasure you deserve?”

“Why should she be grateful?”

Standing, she snaked her arms around him. “You made a serving girl into a
vicomtesse
.”

“And she saved my life.” He stepped away. “Not just once, but more times than you could count.”

“So you cling to her out of gratitude?”

“Gratitude has nothing to do with it, except that I must be grateful to you for arranging for me to marry her. How was I to guess your attempt to control me by giving me a woman you saw as no competition would bring me the greatest love I could know?”

Her hand struck his cheek as she swore. When he did not retort, she lifted her hand again. He caught her wrist in midswing.

Releasing it, he asked, “Lirienne was right about you, Charmaine, wasn't she?”

“I don't know what lies she told you, but—”

He shook his head. “Not lies. I should have guessed your devotion to me was fake. I wanted to believe that you loved me as I adored you, but you had other lovers when I wasn't with you.”

She recoiled, but said, “If you think I will tell you—”

“I don't have any interest in hearing a recitation of your lovers. They don't matter to me. You nearly stole my pride from me along with my heart. However, Lirienne gave both back to me. With her, I've struggled for the life we'll have here. I don't intend to ruin that. Good evening.”

“Philippe,
mon cher
,” she moaned as she reached for him, “I've come all the way across the ocean to be with you.”

“If I believed that, I'd be a fool again.” He reached for the latch. “I've been too much of a fool for too long.”

As he walked out, he pulled the collar of his cloak up against the rain. He bent his head into the storm, ignoring Charmaine's shriek at his back. He walked through the mud as he sought the right words to reassure Lirienne, who must wonder where he was. This time there could be no more misunderstandings.

He heard the horses in the barnyard. They should be in the barn. First he would delight in Lirienne's kiss, then he would see to the horses. He had wanted to savor her soft lips earlier, but had promised to help unload the boat before the storm hit. Now he could take his time and give her the kiss that would show how much he had missed her and how much he wanted her tonight … and every night.

He hurried onto the porch. Opening the door, he called, “Lirienne?
Ma petite
, where are you?”

He went to the bedroom door and scowled as he saw it was open. Taking the lantern from the table, he peered into the dark room to discover it was empty. Maybe she was bringing the horses in.

He carried the lantern with him out into the rain. The horses milled near the barn door. He shooed them in, putting the lantern on the floor when he saw Cristal standing in the middle of the barn. The white mare shied as she did with strangers. Why was she so skittish? Calming her, he put her in the open stall and poured out some oats.

He heard a sound by the door. “Lirienne?”

Running outside, he stopped when he saw a man dressed all in black. A pistol glistened in the light from the lantern. When he took a step toward Vachel, he heard the unmistakable click of the hammer being pulled back.

“Vachel, is there trouble?”

“There is, but there won't be much longer.” He shifted the pistol in his hand as he aimed at Philippe and laughed. “You are proving that you're as big a fool as your low-class wife and your weak-minded brother.”

“Lucien?”

“Do you have another? It was a warning you refused to heed. Instead of seeing that someone was intent on ridding this earth of you, you raced into Paris to get your vengeance. I understand you nearly fell into my trap there also.”

“Why did you set a trap for me?” He fought to submerge the wave of fury that threatened to crash over him, obliterating good sense. “I thought we were friends.”

“You thought wrong. Charmaine was mine before she was yours. She will be mine again, along with the Château you have left to her upon your death.”

Philippe cursed. No, he would not surrender to his fury. He could not let it control him. It had too often in the past. “Was it your idea for her to wheedle me into signing those papers?”

“That was her idea.” He chuckled. “I simply offered to help her get what she wanted. Before I left Philadelphia, I wrote to her that you had never changed those papers.”

“Is that why you kept changing the appointments with your lawyer?”

He laughed. “Of course. I couldn't have you make Lirienne or her child your heir. Then you sickened, and the child was dead, and you didn't have time to visit the lawyer before we came here. It all worked as I had hoped. Charmaine received my letter and rushed here.”

“Surprising you?”

“She has little wit, but her pleasures are many. While she seduced you, I needed only to whisper the right words into the proper ear. Lucien was murdered, and you were to be next.” He poked the gun at Philippe, pushing him back into the barn. “I considered killing you when you came to my country estate, but others might have known you were there that night.”

“You miscalculated. I had told only Charmaine where I was going.”

“Yes, I miscalculated then as I did when I tried to get rid of your pregnant wife in Philadelphia. Somehow, she did not fall through the stairs I had cut. Nor did she slip through the ice as I'd planned when she walked into my trap along the river.”