“Bon.”Yves bowed, turning back toward the door. “We must do what is necessary. Do not be alarmed if you do not see me for a few days.”
Hervé couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Never in Yves’s worthless life had his youngest brother taken the initiative. “What if I need to give you instructions?”
“I am truly not as simple as you would like to believe.” Yves grinned and strode from the room.
Soon their lives would be has they had before the revolution. Perhaps Maman had been faithful to Papa after all.
Chapter 10
Eugénie leaned back in the large metal bathing-tub, inhaling the scent of coconut oil and bay leaves. It was time to dress for the dinner and small soirée at the Whitecliffs’ home. She had still heard nothing from Lord Wivenly. He had not even bothered to respond to her letter accepting his proposal. If he thought to make her suffer by not answering, he would soon discover she did not cow so easily. The man thought only of what he wanted, and nothing about what she might like. Lord Wivenly was far too used to having his own way.
“Marisole.”
“Yes, miss?”
“I shall wear my coral silk gown with the low neckline this evening.” Since herbeau-papa’s death, Eugénie had insisted on wearing subdued colors. Although Papa was not a blood relation, she had mourned him as if he had been, yet now . . . now she was at war with Viscount Wivenly, and would use every weapon in her small arsenal.
Marisole held up a piece of lace. “Do you want the fichu, miss?”
“Not this evening.” To-night his lordship would see what he could never fully have unless he was a good husband. “Help me rinse my hair, please, Marisole.”
“Yes, miss. Will you wear braids again?”
The prim braids that should have protected her from a man like Lord Wivenly. “No, let it curl.”
“Très bien.”Marisole clapped her hands. “I will fix the knot with the pearl combs. You shall be even more beautiful.”
Eugénie rose, and her maid handed her a towel.
A half-hour later, her hair had dried, Marisole allowed long tendrils to frame her mistress’s face, then twisted the rest of it into a knot high on her head. Eugénie donned a pair of earrings from her jewel box.
When Marisole was done, she stepped back. “His lordship will not be able to take his eyes off you. Oh,pardon. I forgot to wish you well on your betrothal. You will be very happy with such a handsome man.”
How was it the servants seemed to always know what was going on without being told? Eugénie hid her frown. No matter. Handsome is as handsome does, and thus far, Lord Wivenly had not shown himself to be very good-looking at all. Yet no one must know how much she regretted this match. She forced a smile on her face. “Thank you. I’m sure I will be.”
She went to Maman’s room and found her seated before her dressing table, her maid styling her hair. Perhaps Eugénie’s pending nuptials would make her mother happier. Giving silent thanks to the Creator her mother would attend the soirée, she smiled and entered the chamber. “Maman, will you be at the Whitecliffs’?”
Her mother took out a handkerchief and dabbed her eyes. “Mrs. Whitecliff has promised it will be a small gathering of our particular friends, and assured me it is perfectly proper for me to attend.”
“If she says it is then it must be. You know how correct Mrs. Whitecliff is on all matters.”
Maman met Eugénie’s gaze in the mirror. “You are lovely, Eugénie. I am glad to see you wearing that color. Papa would be pleased.”
Once more, tears filled her mother’s eyes. If only Papa hadn’t died. Eugénie would do anything to make her mother happy again and ensure her family was taken care of—even wed the devil.
She rushed forward and hugged Maman. “No no, you must not cry. This evening we will be gay.” Eugénie took her mother’s handkerchief, pressing it gently to the corner of one eye. “Promise me no more weeping. Papa would not have liked it.”
Maman gave a watery chuckle. “I give you my word to have fun this evening.”
Dropping a kiss on her mother’s cheek, Eugénie smiled. “That is all I can ask.”
She turned to leave.
“Wait a moment, my dear. Dorat, I want Eugénie to wear the long pearl necklace I’ve been saving for her. You know the one?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Eugénie watched in the mirror as her mother’s maid twisted the matched pearls twice around her neck and affixed a larger pearl pendant surrounded by diamonds to both strands. She was almost afraid to touch it. “Maman, when did you get this?”
