“A sad marriage. Arranged.”
“Debrett’slists her husband’s death as only weeks after their wedding.” Inès resumed her chair. “What happened to her after his death that she is now living in Paris?”
“After her husband died, Aunt Cecily was sent to Brighton for her mourning. Her family had a small house there and she remained for over a year. She became good friends with the prince regent, and then a few months later, he sent her to Paris to the old Duc d’Orleans with a special introduction.”
“Sounds interesting. Why was that?”
Gus fixed her with a telling look.
“Ah, I see.” The lady had become pregnant. “She and the prince had a close friendship.”
“But their interest dwindled, for whatever reason, and she went to Paris to live.”
“She had money to do this? To live on her own?” Women had to have means to set up house alone, especially if they went abroad.Like me.
“It would seem so,” Gus said, her brows knitted. “I never asked too many questions, as I did not wish to be intrusive.”
“You were happy with her,” Inès stated as a fact that had always been apparent to her.
“Very much. She saved me from the monastery orphanage and saved Amber from living with relatives who were strangers to her. We both had a good life with my aunt. She gave us everything she could, including a superb education and a fine introduction to Parisian society and love.”
Inès recalled her own childhood, with many of the same qualities. “All necessary.”
Gus put down her tea and stared into her eyes. “I wish we had more news of your brother.”
“It’s difficult to get word out of any French prison.”Even my superior lacked any information about Luc when he escorted me to Jacques Durand.“Vaillancourt keeps La Force locked up tight as a nunnery.”
“When you told us of Luc’s imprisonment, Kane wrote to his man in Paris to try to learn about Luc’s condition.” Gus sounded apologetic. “But Kane learned only that Luc is still there.”
Kane’s man was renowned. An Italian named Corsini, the fellow stayed in the shadows yet ran the French network, and some said even the German and Italian. “It was good of him to inquire.”
“You must not despair.”
Gus meant well, but Inès pressed her lips together. “I try not to. But it is difficult. I look around at all I enjoy now here and I ache for him. He was doing his duty only. Working the vines, making fine Sancerre, when Fouché demanded new taxes on our estate.”I’ll not mention all the work Luc did for the resistance. I am not supposed to know. But he would let slip a fact here or there. Neither of us noted them, but let the moment pass by. Like the time Luc and I recognized Amber with Lord Ramsey in St. Germaine when she was hiding from Vaillancourt. Or thetime I had to break my line of command and meet you, dear Gus, in a bathhouse in Montmartre. To tell secrets or carry them is a risky business.
“You are well out of France now. Safe. Here.” Gus grinned at her. “Are you ready to look at that house in St. James’s?”
“The one near Green Park? I am!” And it was true. Inès had seen four potential rental houses in the past weeks, but none appealed. This one was situated near shops and a large park where many strolled each day. “I want the excitement of a place of my own. I saw the list of furnishings in this house we visit this afternoon. The arrangement of rooms looked good to me. The size of the house is just enough. But I will turn the morning room on the first floor into my private salon. I hope that set of steps out to the rear means the prior owner has planted a garden. If not, I will make one.”
“That’s the spirit! What do you say we leave at one o’clock?”
“Perfect.”
Chapter Seven
Inès stopped at the corner of St. James’s Place and looked over her shoulder at the house for which she had signed a lease agreement yesterday morning. A creamy white stone, the three-story townhouse had all the necessary elements to bring her smiles and the necessary placement in London Society. She planned to quickly make herself known as the city’s supremesalonnière.
“You approve, mademoiselle?” Richard Hawkings, the butler whom she had hired yesterday afternoon at the local registry, paused beside her, and from the look of his dancing gray eyes, he was pleased with all they had decided and purchased since his appointment.
Gus had found the house and, with the owner’s agent yesterday morning, agreed it had the proper address to establish Inès among theton. Amber had come with them and, once she’d toured the rooms, agreed.
“A shame you cannot take it for three weeks.” Amber glanced at the agent and pressed for a quicker claim. But the man shook his head. The current resident had extended his rental agreement only last week, and the owner had agreed.
The delay for Inès to move in did not postpone her plans to redecorate. Amber had recommended a draper to dothe upholstery and the effects at the windows for Inès’s grand salon. Inès could envision the room eventually transformed in shades of peach and dark, earthy greens, colors that she knew showed her own complexion in its best lights. She needed every advantage to be successful. She would reupholster the four matching Chippendale chairs with soft peach, serviceable silks. She would have the draper sew a grass-green velvet cover for the largest existing settee. He was most agreeable and would take up her orders in two weeks. She would enjoy working with him. In the meantime, she had to wait to move in to the house.
She hated to wait for three weeks to move in and four to hold her first afternoon reception. Time was her enemy. Someone soon would approach her and demand an accounting of her progress. The fact that she still had detected no one of questionable nature was no guarantee she was not followed, assessed, and critiqued.
While she waited for her few new pieces, she would have tea parties in her drawing room. Dinner parties would come soon after.
