Noble Satyr: A Georgian Historical Romance (17 page)

“M’sieur le Duc,” she said happily, “it is
you! I thought I was dreaming, but when I heard Vallentine’s voice
I knew that could not be true because why would he be in one of my
dreams?”

“See what I mean, Roxton,” groaned his
lordship. “I believe I will ignore you, chit.”

Roxton smiled at his friend’s bruised ego
but kept his eyes on Antonia. “I do not think mademoiselle is kind
to M’sieur Vallentine. He has been very good to you, so he tells
me.”

Antonia nodded. “He has, Monseigneur. But he
is also very easy to bait.” She went to his lordship’s chair and
looked contrite. “I am sorry if I offended you, m’sieur.”

“Minx,” he grumbled and flicked her under
the chin. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, thank you,” she answered brightly, and
invited herself to sit beside the Duke on the sofa. “Do you like
this gown, M’sieur le Duc? And thank you for the clasp, and the
shoe buckles and my gowns, and the hundred other things you had
Maurice make for me. Oh? What is my shoe doing there? Maurice is a
very good mantua-maker I think. But he talks too much and fusses
like a woman, which I do not like at all. Madame thinks he is
amusing but I cannot think a man who wears one pearl drop earring
and colors his eyelids anything but laughable, can you? Do you
think he is one of those men I have heard about who prefers his own
kind? A-a Spartan! Or like M’sieur le Duc de Gesvres who is an
expert with his knitting needles?”

Both gentlemen were laughing but at the last
name mentioned Vallentine gaped at her.

“Antonia! Where—Where do you pick up—I’ve
never heard—”

“At court,” she answered simply and looked
to the Duke. “I should not say such things perhaps? Did I shock
you?”

“Not in the least,” answered Roxton, the
hand across the back of the sofa absently fondling a silky lock of
her hair. “I have always known him to be of that persuasion. You
may have shocked my friend, however.”

“Me? I ain’t shocked,” Vallentine said with
a huff. “But you can’t go saying such things to the chit. It ain’t
decent. She’s not much more than a child for God’s sake.”

“You are right, M’sieur le Duc,” said
Antonia with a sigh of resignation. “I have shocked Vallentine.
Hélas
. He is very easy to shock, and to beat at
backgammon.”

“Roxton already knows you’ve defeated me at
every encounter. No need to rub that in!”

“Will you play me at backgammon,
Monseigneur? And perhaps you will stay home some nights so we four
can play at whist and at hazard. And now I am so very much better
we can dine together, yes?”

“She’s got your days planned!” laughed
Vallentine, who found himself ignored by the couple on the
sofa.

“If you wish it,
mignonne
,” said the
Duke. “But I warn you, I am a better player than Vallentine, and I
will make you no allowances.”

“Then we will have an interesting contest,”
she said. A sudden thought made her frown. “You are not going away
again, are you? You—you do not have to go to court or into the
country while I am here, do you?”

He shook his head. “No. I am not going away
again. We can do whatever you wish.”

Her smile returned and she touched his arm
impulsively. “You see, Vallentine,” she said to his lordship, a
sparkle in her lovely green eyes, “we shall all enjoy ourselves
hugely now that M’sieur le Duc stays in Paris.”

Lord Vallentine nodded but he did not hear a
word Antonia said because he had made a startling discovery. He
should have known how it was from the first, but he had taken the
girl’s spirited defense of his friend at every opportunity as
little more than a means of teasing him. But now watching Antonia
in the Duke’s company he realized that the girl was in love with
the Duke. He wondered if his friend had any idea and guessed he did
not. He could not wait to share this interesting turn of events
with Madame de Montbrail.

Estée de Montbrail did not share Lord
Vallentine’s enthusiasm. It was her opinion the girl was not so
much in love with her brother as infatuated and it did not please
her at all. She reasoned the infatuation stemmed from her brother’s
rescue of Antonia from kidnappers on the Versailles road and
because he had spent a small fortune on clothing her; having all
that the best mantua-maker Paris could offer, and the most
exquisite fabrics available, for the countless gowns, shoes,
bonnets and fineries. As for his gifts of shoe-buckles and clasp?
Although exquisite and thoughtful pieces, she had made it clear to
Antonia at the time that her brother had lavished trinkets on many
a lovely neck and pretty wrist, and so the girl should be under no
illusion on that score.

Try as he might Vallentine could not
convince Madame that the girl was of an age to know her own mind,
that her unadulterated feelings for the Duke might just be the
making of
him
. It was about time Roxton realized that not
all beautiful females demanded a pirate’s treasure in return for
their sexual favors. Time spent in Antonia’s company might teach
him a thing or two about love. After all, wasn’t it Madame who
suggested her brother fall in love? But Madame argued that
Vallentine was not taking into consideration the devastating effect
this would have on Antonia, who was, for all her bravado, young and
inexperienced in the sexual politics between male and female. It
was her belief her brother was merely amusing himself with Antonia
as one does with a new and fascinating toy. But what happened when
the fascination wore off and the girl had her heart broken?

Estée reminded him of what he had confided
to her about the Comte de Salvan’s plans for Antonia and her
brother’s interference in these plans. Estée said it just proved
her worst fears: Antonia was just a pawn in an ugly game brother
and cousin were playing. Her own misjudged conclusions about
Antonia’s character on the night of her arrival only served to
magnify these fears. She felt a great burden of guilt for having
thought the worst of Antonia’s character. Her first outright
rejection of her weighed heavily. She wanted to make amends and
felt it her responsibility to protect her, not only from the likes
of the Comte but from her own brother. She trusted his motives
little more than she did Salvan’s.

Thus, she and Lord Vallentine came to an
impasse. They could not talk without Antonia’s name being mentioned
and Madame’s fears being raised that the girl was doomed to have
her heart broken by the Duke. She loved her brother unreservedly
but she knew him for what he was. She could accept it, live with it
even, but she was not about to be convinced that years of habitual
depravity could be changed by one simple girl, however beautiful
and unusual of personality. His lordship disagreed, as Estée knew
he would. They had a falling out. The result was a stinging retort
from Madame that he was in love with Antonia himself. Why else
would he champion her cause so vehemently? Lord Vallentine’s
response was to storm out of the room on an oath and slam the door,
leaving Estée to weep her eyes dry of tears.

Dinner that evening was a subdued affair. In
the hopes of placating her, Lord Vallentine had invited Estée to
attend a performance at the
Comédie Française
after dinner.
She still picked at her food and could not be drawn into
conversation, as hard as Antonia tried. His lordship merely lifted
his brows when applied to by Antonia to explain Estée’s moody
silence, and the dinner dragged on. The Duke, who was never one for
inconsequential chatter at meal times, ate in silence and spoke
only when addressed.

“Estée and I are off to the theatre,”
Vallentine told the Duke when the covers had been removed and the
brandy set upon the table. “Will you be there?”

“No. I think not,” answered Roxton. He
poured brandy of unequal amounts into three glasses and pushed one
toward his friend. The smallest drop he offered to Antonia. “This
is an excellent brandy. Try it. Tell me what you think.”

“She is too young for spirits!” snapped his
sister.

“It’s the merest drop,” smiled Vallentine.
“It won’t hurt her. Try it, imp.”

“Is it better than that horrible drink you
had me swallow when I was shot?” asked Antonia, sniffing
tentatively at the contents of the glass.

“Course it is! You don’t think I’d have
thrown a good brandy down your throat. Hey! Not so fast with it!
Savor it. Savor it. You’ll be flustered if you drink it like
that.”

Brother and sister stared at one another;
Madame with a significant haughty raise of her little nose.
Vallentine caught the implication and rolled his eyes.

“The chit can’t get drunk on a drop,” he
whispered. “Don’t make something out of nothing, Estée. Leave
Roxton and the girl be, for Christ’s sake.

Estée ignored him. She said in an affected
voice, “All Paris goes to the theatre tonight. It is a wonder you
do not. After all, the main attraction is that charming actress
with the most delightful singing voice. I think her name is
Félice.”

“She does not bear a repeat
performance.”

“Come now!” said Estée with a brittle laugh.
“She, the toast of all Paris and you brush her off so lightly? Do
you recommend Lucian and I to stay at home then?”

“No. You will enjoy the evening much better
than I.”

“After the performance Thérèse Duras-Valfons
is holding a select soirée. Shall you go?” asked Estée.

“I have been invited,” was the Duke’s flat
reply.

Lord Vallentine squirmed on his chair and
glanced at Antonia who seemed not to be attending but peering into
her glass.

“Lucian and I thought we would stop by,”
continued Madame in a light conversational tone which contrasted
with the hard glint to her blue eyes. “If only to see who puts in
an appearance. Richelieu and Salvan may attend. I will scold Salvan
I think for not visiting me when he promised he would.” She gave a
sigh. “Yet, mayhap I will not go to this supper because I am not
fond of Thérèse. Especially of late. She is too well pleased with
herself, thinking she is the object of a singular devotion.”

“Does she?” said Roxton with an expression
of bored interest.

Yet, it was obvious to Antonia that
underneath the mask of inscrutability the Duke was not pleased with
his sister’s behavior. She wondered how a sister could be so blind
to a brother’s moods when she, who was not much more than a
stranger in this house, could so easily read his frame of mind.

Perhaps she was more attuned to his true
state of mind because of an acute observation made about the Duke
by her father, one she had remembered if not understood fully at
the time. It was when her father had confided in her that he had
made their distant cousin, the Duke of Roxton, the executor of his
will. Antonia was to remember that fact, and the Duke’s name, if
ever she found herself in difficulties. Despite the Duke’s
reputation with women, which was very true, her father judged him
to be a man of principle and honor who, as Duke and Head of his
Family, took his responsibilities to family and retainers very
seriously. Her father adding with a shrewd laugh that the
nobleman’s blackened shell covered a multitude of decencies.

So when the Duke happened to regard her over
the rim of his brandy glass Antonia held his gaze, not at all
embarrassed at Madame’s brazen mention of his current mistress by
name at the dining table.

“Your verdict on my brandy,
mademoiselle?”

Antonia put her head to one side, the
mischievous dimple making an appearance. “The aroma I find
pleasing
. But although there is a smoothness to
the—
palate
, I do not think I will make a habit of drinking
brandy after dinner.”

Roxton smiled and inclined his head while
Lord Vallentine shattered the frigid atmosphere with a whoop of
laughter.

“Did you ever hear the like from the mouth
of a brat?” exclaimed his lordship. “Heard your father say that,
did you, chit?”

“I said it. No one told me. And I wish you
would not call me a brat and a chit!” Antonia flared up. “Tomorrow
I am—Oh, it does not matter! You should still not call me such
names. If I did not like you I would be very angry with you!”

“And you ain’t now?”

“You all think me too naïve to know—to know
certain—certain things about
life
. But Papa and I saw a
great deal on our travels and he never once shielded me from life’s
brutalities. It is because I have seen much of life’s miseries that
I like to believe there is some goodness in all creatures, even
whores, miscreants and thieves!” She stopped herself and hung her
head, the ensuing silence making it all the more difficult for her
to regain her composure. “I am sorry,” she said flatly.

Estée pushed back her chair and shook out
her wide petticoats. “I must change. Antonia, do not stay up late
tonight. You need your sleep whatever you think to the contrary.
So, we will see you at the soirée, Roxton?”

“No. I stay in tonight.”

Antonia looked up swiftly, the light of
expectation in her green eyes bringing an indulgent grin to
Vallentine’s face. “To keep me company?” she asked eagerly.

“To keep you company.”

“That pleases me very much,” Antonia replied
with a smile and pushed back her chair. “May we play at backgammon
in the library? And then perhaps I can show you this most
interesting book I discovered on your shelves. I tried to talk to
Vallentine about it but his knowledge of history is very poor. And
I have written a letter to Maria. She cannot read French so I must
write in Italian. I thought perhaps you might read it through for
me? You are staying home all night? Promise me?”

The Duke gave a sigh. “Promise? My word is
not good enough? Very well, I promise. Now run and fetch your
letter.”

Antonia was out of the room before Estée had
a chance to scold her for her lack of manners at leaving the room
in such a fashion and without a curtsey to the gentlemen. Hardly
had she gone when Madame needled her brother a little more.