Page 53 of Love Unraveled
“My purpose? To get us all a drink to celebrate the return of Gaston Armand, Marquis de Lyon.”
Before he could point out he was marquis of nothing now, she jumped to her feet, smiled at him, and disappeared out the door.
“Excuse me,” Sophie said. “I shall check on her. This has been a shock, no?” She did not wait for his response before quickly following Jocelyne.
Something odd was going on, but Gaston could not fathom what it was. He walked to the door and stepped into the hall. The second door on the opposite side was slightly ajar, and a light shone through, flickering against the wall like an erratic dancer. He stepped closer, and it became clear someone was pacing. Their rapid French made him smile, a smile he quickly lost when their words became audible.
“I forbid you to tell him,” Sophie snapped.
“Forbid? Youforbidme?”
“A poor choice of words. But you cannot, Jocelyne. We are too close to a win to take any chances now.”
“But it is Gaston, Sophie.”
The pacing stopped, and the tension between the two women was palpable.
“Who has a lot of years to account for, and he has not.”
A long sigh followed Sophie’s pronouncement on his absence, but Gaston was not sure who did it.
“You are right, of course. It is the shock. I am not thinking. It is just… I do it in honor of him,non?”
The light extinguished momentarily, blocked by what he imagined was the two women embracing. Gaston’s mind raced, corralling the words he’d overheard, trying to make sense of them.
The light flickered again, and Sophie spoke. “Were you successful today?”
“I was. There is something afoot, although I do not know what. Apparently, their men are meeting at a rout the day after tomorrow. They became more interested in their dresses than their gossip, but I did manage to find out where.”
There was the unmistakable sound of paper, and Sophie thanked Jocelyne. “Soon, my friend, we will be free of all this. I am certain.”
Gaston slipped back into the drawing room. Who was thehimJocelyne referenced? Were they being blackmailed? It did not sound it, but it was a possibility. Unquestionably, Sophie and Jocelyne were in league together, but against or for what?“Who has a lot of years to account for, and he has not.”Sophie dared doubt his integrity! His honesty! Well, by the end of this night, he would test hers.
Chapter Forty
She was more than human to me. She was a Fairy, a Sylph, I don’t know what she was—anything that no one ever saw, and everything that everybody ever wanted. I was swallowed up in an abyss of love in an instant. There was no pausing on the brink; no looking down, or looking back; I was gone, headlong, before I had sense to say a word to her.
—Charles Dickens,David Copperfield
It had broughtSophia great pleasure to watch the two cousins together. Once they’d moved past the sharing of their journeys, they’d reminisced. Sophia remembered some of it, but much was from a time she had not known Gaston, the time before the husbands had tried to keep the sisters apart. It had been a foolish attempt. The women had been French, and family was everything. Their mothers had not obeyed. Instead, they’d met covertly. Sophia was convinced it was how Jocelyne had learned her wiliness and discretion.
Gaston had grown quiet in the carriage, and she had not probed. She knew what it was like to see someone you’d long thought gone, so she’d left him to his reflections. She’d assumed he would want to go home, but when they’d arrived at her town house, he’d hopped out and escorted her to the door. It was not merely to antagonize Raimondo either, for he’d come all the way in without invitation, promptly shed his coat, and handed it to Stephens.
She’d not been averse to him staying, so she’d turned and walked upstairs and on toward her private sitting room. She’d invited him to help himself to a drink and left him there and was now staring at herself as she contemplated the meaning of his presence. She’d removed her jewelry and slipped into a simple, more comfortable gown. Her head ached a little, so she’d had Cara take her hair down and was now enjoying the brush dragging slowly over her scalp. Cara always tried to be gentle, and Sophia had never appreciated her magic touch more.
Gaston’s reflection appeared in the glass.
“May I?” he asked, holding his hand out for the brush.
Cara looked at Sophia in the mirror, and Sophia nodded. Cara did not need to be asked to leave the room. The door clicked quietly behind her.
Gaston did not look at her, his focus entirely on his task. He pulled the brush slowly through her locks, his fingers caressing the strands as he did so. The sight was comfortingly domestic and entirely sensual. Sophia’s body stirred, but her mind warned it to still. She sensed something more was going on.
“Your hair is my first memory of you,” he said, pausing in his task and rolling a lock between his thumb and forefinger. He cleared his throat. “You were small, a pixie, but your hair was thick and full and far too big for your waiflike body. I wanted to touch it. Even though I was petrified by everything going on around me, I wanted to know what your hair felt like.”
Sophia watched the play of emotions on his face but said nothing. She was not surprised his head was full of memories. She now knew firsthand that that was what happened when one saw a ghost come to life. The past enveloped you like an early-morning fog rolling across the fields. One looked for landmarks to anchor one in place.
“It did not take long for me to recognize your hair was the essence of you. Big and bold, too much, and yet just right.”
