To stay in the house would be unbearable. To go to a club insupportable? he did not wish to meet any of his friends.
No, that wasn’t quite true. He wished Nicholas Delaney and his wifeEleanor were here in Town. He could talk to them. But they were inSomerset enjoying each other and their new baby. He was tempted to flee totheir house as he had fled once before . . . but that had merely been inflight from Phoebe Swinnamer’s matchmaking mama, not from the totaldestruction of his life, of his very self.
Poor Phoebe. She believed her beauty entitled her to the prize of theMarriage Mart. Would she ever realize how close she had come to achievingher ambition?
He had dodged Phoebe, but he couldn’t dodge this new trap. As heapparently had no right at all to his rank and privilege, the least hecould do was pay for it through sacrifice.
Eventually he found his aimless strides had brought him to a quietstreet of small houses. He sighed with relief.
Blanche.
She wouldn’t expect him at this hour and so he used the knocker. Hedidn’t believe Blanche would play him false by taking another lover, butif she had, he didn’t want to know ? he didn’t need any more shocks today.He was admitted by her startled maid and in a moment the White Dove waswith him.
“Lucien, love,” she said, her carefully trained voice still having aslight northern burr. “What brings you here so early?” Despite thequestion she was already in his arms and studying him. “Are you introuble, my dear?”
The marquess looked down at her perfect heart-shaped face and heramazing silvery hair, for she was prematurely gray and had turned it toher trademark, and sighed. “I just need a friend, Blanche.”
Smiling, she led him to a sofa. “You have one. How can I help?” Shebrushed golden curls off his forehead with gentle fingers. “Is it yourfather? Is he very cross? I told you you shouldn’t have taken methere.”
“You were right.” He captured her hand and kissed it. “Will youmind?”
“Don’t be daft,” she said with a cheeky smile and the accent of hernative Manchester. “I’ve no silly expectations, Lucien. You treat me withrespect and that’s all I ask. Is that the problem then?”
He lay back and sighed. “No. No, it isn’t, sweetheart. But I can’t tellyou what is. I just need peace and quiet to think something through.”
“And you’re a bit tight for empty rooms at home,” she saidunderstandingly, gaining the laugh she sought, even if it wasstrained.
He drew her into a friendly hug. “I should have married you,” he said,and she chuckled at the joke.
“Lummox. Is that it?” she asked. “Has the Swinnamer girl turned youdown?”
“No. Stop asking questions.”
She obediently lapsed into silence and rested in his comfortableembrace. She knew there were times when just to have someone nearby was acomfort, and she would give him any comfort she could. In a very real wayshe loved Lucien de Vaux, but she was three years older than him in ageand a century older in experience. She knew better than to let her heartrule her head. The marquess paid her well and she gave what he paid forand more. One day it would end and that was how it should be.
With Blanche soft and perfumed in his arms, Lucien passed the briefinterview with his father ? no, the duke ? through his mind again andagain. Could he not have softened it in some way? It was not news amenableto softening.
So much now clicked into place, such as the formality of his parents’lives despite suggestions of deep feeling. Had his father never forgivenhis mother? His words had been gentle this morning and yet the evidencewas that they had been estranged for over twenty years. Lucien had alwayshoped it was just an appearance of formality and that in private theybehaved otherwise.
He did not know how he was to face either of them again.
He understood at last the duke’s attitude toward himself, why he hadnever been able to gain the warmth, the approval he sought. His father hadchastised or commended him as appropriate but always in the impersonalmanner of a guardian. He supposed, given the situation, the duke had beenvery good to him.
And now he must repay that goodness. It was his duty to make thismarriage ? though it would feel incestuous and be a mismatched union ofthe highest order ? and produce the male heirs to ensure the line. Thenperhaps, he thought bleakly, he could shoot himself.
Blanche was beginning to feel stiff. She stirred a little. “Would youlike some wine, Lucien? Or tea?”
He sat up with her and kissed her lightly. “Wine, please. And perhapssome food? I skipped breakfast.”
His manner was much like his normal high spirits and yet she could seethe strain behind it and ached for him.
“Of course, love,” she twinkled. “After all, you pay the grocer.”
He grinned. “So I do. And also the jeweler. When I’ve fortified myself,I’m going to go and buy you more diamonds. Unless I can tempt you tosapphires?”
“And ruin my act?” she protested. “The day the White Dove wears anycolor I’ll be over and done with. I saw some pretty hair pins in theBurlington Arcade.”
“Consider them yours,” he said. “You are a treasure, Blanche. You wouldmake a man a wonderful wife.”
