“She knows that you’ve discovered her real name?”
“Yes.” Denis stated, as though explaining to a simpleton. “I address her thus. Likewise, she knows mine.”
“I see.” I did not relent. “If I have not yet made myself clear—if you hurt that courageous young woman, you will answer to me.”
“I am aware of your concern, Captain,” Denis returned. “You have no cause to worry.”
We studied each other for another moment.
I decided, after forcing my gallant tendencies to calm, to believe him. I recalled the way Denis had beheld Lady when she’d exclaimed about the light in Mr. Vermeer’s painting. His gaze had not been on the picture, but on Lady herself.
I’d never seen Denis look at a living soul in that way before. I realized he understood what a rare being she was, and I suspected he’d take as much care with her as he would his priceless artworks.
I lifted my coffee. “By the way,” I said, as though my interest in Lady and her welfare was a passing thing. “Why did you hire Mr. Stout? I admit his knowledge of the horseracing world proved useful, but I doubt you brought him back from Rome to tell you the race results. Satisfy my curiosity in that quarter at least. Had he done you a good deed in the past?”
Denis did not betray any surprise or irritation at my inquiry. Likely he was happy I’d ceased badgering him about Lady. “I had never met Mr. Stout before I offered him employment.”
“Then why?—?”
Denis lifted a hand. “As you will continue to pry into the question, I will tell you. I hired Mr. Stout as a favor to Mr. Gibbons. They have some connection in Mr. Gibbons’ past.”
I digested this answer in surprise. “One you do not know?”
“I did not make it my business to ask.”
I was not sure Denis could astonish me more than he had this morning. “You certainly are trusting Stout,” I said. “To hire him without knowing him, or why Gibbons asked you to?—”
“Mr. Gibbons’ reasons are his own.” Denis pulled the letter back to himself and took up his pen. “I’d trust Gibbons with my life. Good morning, Captain.”
I would get no more from him, that was clear. I set aside the coffee with some regret—it was excellent—and rose. I made a bow to Denis, which he did not acknowledge, nodded to Robbie in his usual place by the window, and left the room.
Gibbons waited pointedly at the bottom of the stairs, ready to show me the door.
I studied the man while I took my coat and hat, wondering if Gibbons was a relation to Stout. I’d dismissed the idea that Stout had a family connection to Denis, but the ages of Stout and Gibbons were such that they could be father and son. I had much to ponder.
I bade the silent Gibbons good morning and departed the house. The door closed firmly behind me.
Chapter 27
Though I thought to ride that morning, I was still too sore, and rested for several more hours once I returned home. Early in the afternoon, Gabriella, who’d been staying with Lady Aline, burst into the house in a rush, calling up the stairs when she saw me.
“Father, Emile has arrived. Is this not a happy event?”
Emile was to have joined us in another week, but it seemed he’d journeyed to England early. He must have called at Aline’s first, knowing Gabriella often resided there while in London. Also, I suspected, he hesitated to face me right away.
Through the open front doorway I saw Emile descend Aline’s coach, politely hand out that lady, and escort her into the house.
I greeted Emile somewhat less enthusiastically than Gabriella had announced him, but I watched my daughter, not her fiancé, as he shook my hand then gazed about the foyer.
Gabriella’s entire demeanor had brightened, her smiles not dimming as she swept her arm upward, showing off Donata’s elegant house.
While Emile did not fall to his knees in awe of its grandeur, I could see he was intimidated by it. A month ago, this might have given me satisfaction, but as I regarded the way Gabriella tried to put him at his ease, I realized she was a better person than I.
Gabriella radiated happiness. In my opinion, no man in the world would ever be good enough for her, but it was clear she loved the quiet young Frenchman at her side. When I finally pulled my gaze from Gabriella and observed Emile, I found it obvious that he adored her.
He’d do everything in his power to make her happy, his expression told me as she tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. I also understood he could not do that in London, with me standing over him every moment of every day.
I had to let them return to Lyon, to settle there, where Emile had his family, and Gabriella had lived her entire life. The fact that Gabriella wanted to include me in this life had pulled me from the despair that used to haunt me, and I would be forever grateful to her for that.
