“Cannon exploded. He’s come through it well enough. He’ll want to seeyou. Was thinking of going up your way.”
Lucien wanted to see Hal, too, but was aware of a reluctance to see himmaimed and was instantly ashamed of it. “Tonight at Lauriston Street?” heconfirmed briskly. “I’ll send round a note, but Nicholas won’t mind. IsEleanor here, too?”
“Of course. And the child. They’re on their way to a family gatheringat his brother’s place. Just came up a bit early to get the latestnews.”
Lucien buried the shock of Hal’s injury under the pleasant prospect ofmeeting all these friends. He wondered how Nicholas Delaney was now, fourmonths after his return to England, seven months after their last meeting.That had been on the night when Nicholas had succeeded in gaining theplans of a plot to liberate Napoleon from Elba and restore him to power inFrance.
That success had been at great cost to himself, and in those daysNicholas had been tense and worn. His efforts had almost cost him hislife, and his marriage, too. And after all the sacrifices it had allturned out to be a fraud. Or had it?
Napoleon, after all, was back in France and in power.
The beautiful Madame Bellaire had said in the end that the supportersof Napoleon had been tricked and that she was keeping the money for herown use. Had that been yet another lie? And if so, would Nicholas considerhimself to blame in that he had only got the list of names from the womanand not relieved her of her ill-gotten gains?
Lucien had had letters from Nicholas which painted a pleasant pictureof contentment with rural life, matrimony, and a new baby, but he’d bepleased to have it confirmed with his own eyes.
He’d be curious too to see the little Delaney. Arabel must be fourmonths old. The babe had only been a few days old when last he’d seen her,and he couldn’t say she’d shown promise of beauty back then.
That evening, when he was ushered into the elegant house at LauristonStreet the first sight to meet his eyes was Eleanor Delaney ? lookingfiner and happier than she ever had ? dressed in silk and jewels, with herbaby in her arms. She turned and a wide, vivacious smile lit her face.“Lucien!” she exclaimed as she came over to greet him. “We were sothrilled to receive your note. And you are due our congratulations.” Shereached his side and leaned forward for a kiss. “You must tell us allabout your bride-to-be.”
He had to work around a fragrant infant to kiss her cheek, which was anew experience. He looked down to be trapped by enormous gold-brown eyesfringed by outrageous lashes. The child had incredible skin ? he wouldnever be able to call a woman’s skin petal-soft again ? and a sweet, softmouth.
“Lord above, Eleanor. You can’t let that loose on the world. There’llbe no male left sane.”
Eleanor smiled down in pride. “She is quite pretty, isn’t she? But notmuch hair yet. There’s no guarantee she’ll be anything out of the ordinarylater though. Babies are generally appealing.”
“Appealing has nothing to do with it. She’s a man-slayer.”
Eleanor chuckled with pleasure at this praise. “Here,” she said andpassed the child over. “Be slain. I just have to have a word with Mrs.Cooke.”
“Eleanor!” protested Lucien as the child settled in his arms. “Comeback here!”
“Nicholas is in the drawing room,” she called as she disappeared.
Lucien looked down at the child. It was disconcerting to be so readilyaccepted. Arabel was not the slightest bit disturbed by being in strangearms and appeared fascinated by his sapphire cravat pin. Delicate starfishfingers reached aimlessly for it. “Typical woman,” grumbled Lucien with asmile. “Fascinated by something glittery. Come on. Let’s find Papa.”
But as he crossed the hall the thought of a child of his own became forthe first time something other than a burdensome duty.
He entered the drawing room to find his host, Nicholas Delaney, talkingto some members of the Company: Sir Stephen Ball M.P.; Lord DariusDebenham ? third son of the Duke of Yeovil; and the viscount. They allturned and grinned at the sight of him with a baby in his arms.
“Good Lord,” said Nicholas, coming forward. “I heard you were engagedto marry, but aren’t you a bit beforehand?”
Lucien couldn’t help a grin, but he said, “This, if you can’t recognizeit, is yours.”
Nicholas took the babe easily, and Arabel broke out a bright smile anda chortle. “So it is.”
Lucien found simple pleasure in seeing how healthy Nicholas appeared ?his skin tanned, his gold-flecked brown eyes clear and happy. He’d knownfrom Eleanor’s radiant looks that nothing had occurred to tarnish theirnew-built marriage, but now it was confirmed.
He hadn’t realized what a burden of concern he’d carried until it wasremoved.
The business Nicholas had involved them all in last year had seemed ajape at first, very like the schoolboy plots they had indulged in atHarrow. It had stopped being a joke when Lucien had realized how it washurting Eleanor to know her husband was so often with another woman; hehad become a great admirer of Eleanor Delaney.
It had taken longer for him to realize how playing the lover forTherese Bellaire was slowly destroying Nicholas.
He hadn’t really understood until the night he’d tried to be noble anddistract the predatory Madame’s attention to himself. She’d managed merelywith a look of her eyes to make him feel raped. When Nicholas finally drewher off, Lucien had been beyond feeling noble and had just felt grateful.The one good things he supposed, was that since then he’d been morethoughtful in his dealings with women, knowing how it felt to be socasually defiled.
He remembered with a touch of shame the way he’d handled ElizabethArmitage, doing in a cruder way what Therese Bellaire had done to him. Ithad been necessary, he’d thought. But if she weren’t quite as he thought...
“Trouble?” asked Nicholas softly, a smile still on his lips but hiseyes serious. Trust Nick to see beyond the surface.
