Chapter 2
She should not have cometo thiswedding.
Standing to one side of the gilded drawing room of Remy'spalaison the Rue di Rivoli,she sipped her champagne and studied Killian Hanniford standing before a white marble column. The sun beamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, silhouetting his muscular physique against the golden walls and crystalline mirrors. In his formal attire of grey striped morning tuxedo and stark ivory shirt and waistcoat, he was a vision of stark masculinepower.
Whathadshe been thinking? That she could appear here, enjoy the festivities, the wedding, especially this reception and avoid Killian Hanniford?After what I did the last time we met? If gossips are to be believed, he’ll give me the cut direct. Or more likely, crush me with onehand.
She downed a gulp ofchampagne.
Oh, I'm anidiot.
And aliar.
She bit her lower lip.Be honest with yourself, Liv.Hadn't she come specifically to see him oncemore?
"Mama, Marianne is so lovely. Remy has chosen well, don't youthink?"
Her daughter Camille, soon to be fifteen, had begged to attend this wedding with her. To take one's sweet child out in to society was not done when she was not old enough to have debuted. But then, Camille would be different from other young ladies of her class and her age. Lovely with a riot of golden red hair and earthy dark eyes, Camille looked more like a bold poppy than a frilly white flower. She'd attract men with her dramatic looks, and make her way in the world while fending off their indecent proposals. She had education and charm, but no dowry to commend her. Indeed, even her pedigree was a mark against her. But by her nature, sunny and jubilant, she belied the calamitous pasts of her parents. From birth, Camille had been a happy soul. Burbling. Talkative. Eager to embrace life. Butterflies and puppies. Roses andbooks.
Liv enjoyed her. Applauded her. And in Camille's wish to attend Remy's wedding, Liv had decided last week she would indulgeher.
She'd called upon Camille's headmistress, packed her up and taken her from her school near Brighton. Camille had been shocked nearly speechless, and Liv was certain the child would expire with joy yesterday before their train pulled intoGare du Nord. Everything about the journey had become an adventure for her darling daughter. The extraction from that hideous school. The announcement they were to attend their cousin Remy's wedding in Paris. The new gown Liv had ordered her dressmaker to fashion for Camille. The train trip. Paris itself, the city that shimmered and sparkled with delectable food and fine wine, vibrant music and art. And KillianHanniford.
She spied him across the room, talking with a woman who looked familiar. Liv told herself not to care who it was or why he beamed down at the lady with that predatory smile. After all, she and Camille were here briefly. Liv was ready to depart at a moment's inclination. Nerves eating her alive, she'd been thrilled at the lack of a receiving line. She wished to have a glass of champagne, thank her hostess, wish the newlyweds great joy anddepart.
"Ma cherie, Olivia, I am delighted you have traveled all this way to join us." The distinguished Duchess de Remy and Princess D'Aumale appeared at her side. "I know Remy will be thrilled to see you. And you must meet my new daughter-in-law."
"Madame la Princesse," Liv said with the French accent the Princess preferred and gave a curtsy to her distant cousin, "I am honored to have been invited."And received. That is so rare among English society for me and my daughter."But I must tell you that I met the young duchess a few months ago in London when I attended the marriage of the duke of Seton's daughter to the Earl of Carbury. Marianne is lovely in face and spirit. I know she is a perfect match for ourAndre."
"She gave him a merry run, but I do believe they are meant for each other. And Camille, how charming you are,ma petitechou."
Liv's daughter curtsied to the elder lady. "I am honored,Madame la Princesse. I begged Mama toattend."
"Right you were, too, Camille. Your mother remains too cloistered. I meant to bring you out,Olivia."
"You succeeded,Madame."
"A lovely party,Madame laPrincesse."
Liv froze. He'd come. His rough voice wrapped around her like a velvet vise. He seized the opportunity to appear at her side now that the princess spoke with her. In such company, especially with Camille here, how could she once more be rude tohim?
She stared up at him. He was so tall, he hovered over her. Like a gargoyle. Or a darkangel.
"MonsieurHanniford, it is nothing," the Princess said. "I'm glad you allowed me to host thereception."
"I see what you mean now," he said. "Your home is much larger than our drawing room in Boulevard Haussmann. Better able to hold all theguests."
"We have so many in Paris whom we must acknowledge. I must extend greetings to all I know when I see how happy my Remy is with the woman he adores." The lady tipped her head. She washaute Parisiensociety, a descendant of the dethroned Bourbons and the rascally Bonapartes. She fluttered her fan against the necklace of sapphires and diamonds that some said Napoleon had purchased for his second wife, the Austrian girl. Marianne today wore the pearls that the first emperor had indebted himself to buy for his beloved first wife Josephine. "Have you metMonsieurHanniford, mydears?"
"Not formally," Liv answered attemptingpolitesse, but the princess knew the reasons why introducing her was nothing she'd ever wanted. Still, no matter those hideous facts, Liv had to set a good example in society forCamille.
Hanniford, infamous rogue that he was, did not turn a hair. He bowed slightly, a mischievous smile curving those fulllips.
The princess did the honors. "Lady Savage, may I present my daughter-in-law's uncle,MonsieurKillianHanniford?"
There was nothing for it. Liv held out herhand.
He took her fingertips and bowed over her hand like a prince. "Lady Savage, I am delighted to meetyou."
