Page 49 of Sir Durham’s Disarming Asset

The man fell into solemnity, gazing at his nails.

Cosette did no better until she blurted, “Zephora knows all about what happened to you, Papa.” Her tone implied she excused the man his crime.

That Cosette would help justify her father’s actions did not sit well with Zeph. Countess Nugent, with whom Zeph had lived for a few months before Vaillancourt’s men took her away to prison, had declared that Lenoir was ousted from his powerful place at court because of his corruption of military funds. Yet the final straw that motivated him to leave Paris, his bank, and his vast properties was Vaillancourt’s demand that he pay all his debts plus twenty percent over that to “compensate the state for his fraud.”

In fact, Zeph knew that this now-infamous French banker had done his best for his business, but not for his only child. When Cosette had fallen in love with a dashing cavalry officer and the man had come to propose, Lenoir had thrown him out. Too poor, he yelled. Cosette had been devastated and vowed never to love again. Not even her father.

Still, Zeph should not have been surprised that Cosette was still with her father here in exile. The woman most likely did not have the financial means to separate from the sire who had ignored her, much as Zeph’s own father had.

Cosette was a lovely woman with hair the color of bubbly golden champagne and eyes like sapphires. Weeks before the scandal of Lenoir’s embezzlement hit, Cosette had received another proposal of marriage. The man, a banker sixty-two years old, had not appealed to her. He was a lech, pawing her when he thought no one witnessed his groping. He had also demanded a dowry twice the size Lenoir offered. He wanted ten thousand Francs, half in gold bullion. Lenoir had laughed at him. But when the man caught Cosette in a room alone, stripped her, and attempted to rape her, she had used a strong Sèvres flower pot to bash his head. Afterward, the man had claimed he wanted no part of her or her father. Cosette was used goods.

Shaken but unbowed, Cosette had said she wished to wait for love to come her way. Now, with her father’s lesser influence—and perhaps his finances were not as illustrious as once they were—Cosette might not have a dowry. Two years younger than Zeph, Cosette had time to marry before the British called her a spinster. But as the English feared their southern coast awash in French spies, few would wish even to befriend a lady whose name was tarnished with the possibility of her father’s misdeeds.

On the other hand, Cosette had a pastime that occupied her. She wrote novels. Originally writing in French when she began years ago, the stories were tales of love. Now, Zeph wondered if Cosette wrote her stories in English.

That topic—like that of the fate of her book—would be for another day, when Cosette and she were alone. Her father disapproved of her writings. But Cosette had continued in spite of him. The result was added tension between them. The only aspect he applauded was her income, which had been sizable.

“We come today to renew our acquaintance,” her father said to Zeph.

He was not a man who called upon others to pass the time of day. What more did he want?

“Also, I hoped that you might allow Cosette into your illustrious circle of friends.”

Zeph had no idea to what extent Cosette might be received among the Ashleys’ friends and colleagues. Gus might be willing to see her often, but Kane would investigate the young woman’s friendships and activities before any familiarity occurred. In truth, Kane would jump at the chance to pry open the mind of this infamous French banker, but Zeph had no idea how deeply Kane would permit a friendship.

“You and I can certainly meet, Cosette. I am not mistress here, but I will say of my hostess that she is a gracious lady.”

“I remember seeing her once here from afar on the street,” Cosette said with a smile. “A lovely lady. When Papa and I were in Paris, I was invited to a garden party at Countess Nugent’s. She spoke often of her niece.”

“I would ask Lady Ashley to come down to meet you both, but sadly, she took this afternoon to do her shopping. I know she would like to meet you both. Lord Ashley, as well.”

Kane was a gregarious sort who possessed the novel art of so regaling another that they spilled out their secrets, past and present. Kane, Zeph speculated, dealt with secrets all the time.

“That is kind of you,” Lenoir said. “Cosette had to come to renew her friendship. I, however, came for another reason.”

“Wonderful. And what is that?” If he did not speak now about her father’s investment with his bank, she would make an appointment with him for the very near future.

“Your father had money with me.”

“I know he did.”

The man’s brows shot up.

“Monsieur, I did his books in Paris. I knew how much he had with you. That was in 1802.”

At that revelation, Lenoir was nigh unto speechless. Then he gathered himself and asked, “Did you know the money he gave me was to support you and, if possible, to invest for him, too?”

“I did. When last I did his books, before he left Paris for London, he had a total of five thousand dollars and twenty-two cents with you.”

The man’s brows shot up. He was impressed with her knowledge.

“He told me he would give you more in British pounds each year for my schooling and my welfare. So I assume he added more as years went on. What has happened to that money, monsieur?”

“I have it.”

“You do? I commend you, monsieur.”

“Merci beaucoup. I kept it for you. I did. Even though I had heard that Vaillancourt had hauled you off to prison. When I learned that you had escaped, I was thrilled for you, as was Cosette.”