‘I tried, but she will not listen. All she can see is that I broke my word. She thinks I see our marriage as a burden.’
‘And is it?’ asked Anthony quietly.
Gideon dropped his head in his hands
‘At the beginning it was...difficult. But now—’ He took a breath, facing the truth. ‘Now, I cannot contemplate living without her.’
‘Oh, Gideon—!’
Gwen’s sympathetic utterance was cut short as the door opened again and the viscount came in. Lord Rotham nodded to his daughter and son-in-law and addressed Gideon.
‘Ah, my boy. I was informed that you had arrived.’
‘As you see, Father.’ Gideon rose, nodding at the lawyer following his father into the room. ‘Mr Rogers. I called at your offices yesterday, but you were already on your way here. Before you go back to town, I would be obliged if you would see Mrs Rainault and ask her to appoint you to act on her behalf, then you must call upon Coutts, the bankers in the Strand. They are holding a considerable sum of money for her, including a dowry for my wife.’
‘A dowry!’ declared Gwen. ‘But why? How—?’
‘Martlesham,’ said Gideon shortly. ‘Jerome Rainault sent letters to the old earl, instructing him to hold his fortune in trust for his family. Max was planning to keep it for himself.’
‘Rogers will, of course, carry out your instructions, my son.’ The viscount moved to his usual seat beside the fire. ‘But first he has some news for you.’
* * *
So Jerome Rainault is alive,’ said Gideon, when everything had been explained.
‘We believe so,’ said the lawyer. ‘Lord Rotham hopes to get him to England very soon.’
‘How?’ asked Gideon, frowning. ‘Bonaparte will not want to let him go.’
Lord Rotham nodded.
‘You are right, it must be done carefully. I am sending a courier tonight.’
‘I will go.’ Gideon’s announcement was met with silence.
‘Out of the question,’ said the viscount at last. ‘It is far too dangerous.’
‘Rainault is my father-in-law. Who else should go?’
‘Anyone,’ cried Gwen, her face pale. ‘How can you even think of it, knowing what happened to James—?’
‘Precisely because of what happened to James,’ replied Gideon. ‘My brother was heir to Rotham. I should have been the one to go to Paris all those years ago.’
‘No,’ said Lord Rotham. ‘I ordered you both to remain in England. James disobeyed me.’ He sighed. ‘He was as stubborn and hot-headed as the rest of the Alburys, in his own way.’
Gideon met his father’s eyes steadily. ‘I have to do this, sir, if only to show my wife that I do not have an implacable hatred for all Frenchmen.’
‘No, you cannot go.’ Gwen jumped up from her seat and ran to Gideon. ‘Think, my dear. You are heir to Rotham now.’
His mouth twisted into a wry smile.
‘And my heir is presently sleeping in his crib upstairs, so the succession is safe.’
Gwen gave a little huff of impatience and turned to her husband.
‘Ribblestone, pray tell him he must not do it.’
‘I will,’ said Anthony. ‘Not for the reasons you have given, but because from today the difficulties of getting anyone in or out of France are increased a hundredfold.’ He surveyed the company for a moment. ‘It can make no odds if I tell you now, for you will learn of it in tomorrow’s newspapers. We have today declared war on France.’
After a moment’s horrified silence, Gideon shook his head.
‘It makes no odds. I am still going.’
* * *
The argument raged on, but at length Gideon convinced them all that he would not be moved and suggested to his father they should discuss how it was to be done. Mr Rogers rose.
‘My work is finished here, my lord, so if you will excuse me I shall visit Mrs Rainault and advise her of the news.’
Ribblestone took out his watch, ‘And we can do no more good here, so we will go to Fairlawns.’
With a bow he ushered his wife to the door.
‘Ribblestone!’ Gideon’s peremptory call stopped Anthony at the door. He looked back, brows raised. ‘So you and m’sister have made it up. How did you do it?’
Ribblestone regarded him for a moment, a faint smile touching his lips.
‘Well, if you want the truth—and begging your pardon, Lord Rotham—I gave her a damn good spanking!’
With that, and another slight bow, he went out and shut the door.
* * *
By the time Gideon accompanied his father into dinner their plans had been made. Only two places were set, Colne informing them that Mr Rogers had departed to catch the night mail and Mrs Albury had requested a tray to be sent up to her room. As soon as they were alone, Gideon explained about his meetings with Agnes Bennet.
‘I should have told Dominique about it immediately, Father. It was a serious misjudgement.’
‘We are both guilty of that where your wife is concerned,’ replied Lord Rotham, sadly. ‘Your mother was never strong and I should have taken better care of her, but my mistake was to persuade you that all ladies were so delicate. When you brought Dominique to Rotham, she quite stole my heart and I became morbidly anxious for her. If I have somehow caused this estrangement between you, then I am very sorry for it.’
Gideon listened in silence. It was the first time that his father had ever unbent enough to make an apology and he realised how much it had cost him. He looked up and met the old man’s eyes.
‘You are not at fault, Father. I have been a fool, but I shall do better in future, when I get back from France.’
If I get back.
The words hung between them, unspoken, but Gideon knew that they both silently acknowledged the risks.
* * *
They had not quite finished their port when Colne announced another visitor.
‘I have shown him into the study, my lord, as you instructed.’
‘My original courier,’ explained the viscount as the butler withdrew. ‘He will accompany you as far as the coast, but after that you will travel alone until you meet up with your contact in Paris. How is your French?’
‘A little rusty, but it will suffice. Come, let us get this over.’
* * *
An hour later Gideon went to his room to change for his journey. Once he was ready he walked to the connecting door that led to Dominique’s bedchamber and after the briefest of knocks he walked in. She was standing before the fire, rocking the baby in her arms and crooning a lullaby.
Gideon glanced at the waiting servant. ‘Please leave us.’
The nursemaid hesitated, glancing uncertainly at her mistress. Dominique handed her the baby.
‘Take little James back to the nursery, if you please. I shall come to him later.’
Her tone was gentle, but as soon as they were alone she regarded Gideon with a stony glare, anger emanating from every rigid line of her body.
‘What do you want?’
‘To talk to you.’