“I do believeyou’rewhat’s changed. And were you with Lord Dane all night?”
“We were only going to be gone a few hours. There are some troubling discrepancies in the Rydell accounting books regarding charitable donations, and I wanted to go and investigate one of the charities. We drove to East Edston but they’d never heard of the charity we were trying to find. So we drove to West Edston only to encounter the same befuddlement. But by that time the weather became inclement and the road was muddy and a tree came down... To make a long story a little shorter we had to go back and spend the night at an inn until the rain stopped and the roads were passable.”
“Did you stay in separate rooms?”
“We couldn’t. I had told the innkeeper earlier in the day that we were a married couple. I thought it would explain why I was traveling alone with Dane. I didn’t think we’d have to go back and stay the night there.”
“So you stayed all night in a room with the most notorious rake in all of London? Sandrine Oliver! You are utterly, completely ruined.”
“I know.”
“Except no one knows but me. So you’ll be all right. Unless—” she clasped Sandrine’s hands “—unless you could be with child?”
“No chance of that.”
“What happened? Tell me everything.”
“He was a perfect gentleman. I was the one who...”
Francesca’s eyes grew huge. “You...?”
“I suggested some exploration. He refused. I’m afraid I convinced him. Don’t worry, we didn’t go too far.” More than far enough. Even the hint of being out with him after dark and she’d be shunned by society. Her mother would be destroyed.
“You’re getting to be more brazen even than Roslyn.”
“I know.”
“You might want to leave London before something irreversible happens.”
“Too late.”
“But I thought you said that you stopped before things progressed too far?”
“What’s irreversible is how hopelessly devoted I feel to him.”
“Oh no,” moaned Francesca. “You silly thing. You can’t fall in love with Lord Dane. You simply can’t. Use him for pleasurable explorations if you must, but don’t make the foolish mistake of falling for a rake.”
“I can’t help myself. Even though he says he’s bad through and through and he’ll hurt me and he can’t give me commitment or love.”
“Listen to the man.” Francesca shook her by the shoulders. “Listen to him, Sandrine! He’s telling you the truth. I’ve known him much longer than you have, and I’ve seen young ladies make foolsof themselves over him, pining and threatening to throw themselves in the Thames. Nothing ever pierces through that swaggering, arrogant exterior of his. Don’t let him make a fool of you twice. He’ll never marry. Although, if he becomes the duke he may be forced to. Becoming a duke would do wonders to rehabilitate his reputation. He’d become the biggest prize of the Season.”
“I’ll challenge any young lady to a duel if she so much as looks at him,” Sandrine said, only half-joking.
Francesca giggled. “I’m going to miss you, Sandrine.”
“Come visit me in Squalton.”
“I’d like that.” Francesca yawned. “Now go to sleep. We still have a few hours before my maid comes to wake me. And then we’ll have hot chocolate, and you can tell me more about those explorations.”
Sandrine’s plan had worked. She arrived back to Mrs. McGovern’s house in Francesca’s carriage with no one the wiser. “Mrs. McGovern, Miss Hodwell, I’m back,” she called.
“Oh, Miss Oliver! Such a to-do.” Miss Hodwell hurried into the entrance hall. “Your mother is here. And so is Mr. Pilkington.”
Her heart plummeted like a pigeon shot by a hunter. She wasn’t ready to face her mother. And Mr. Pilkington was here?
“They’re very angry with you. I’m afraid we haven’t been very good chaperones. Oh dear, oh dear. And they won’t take any refreshment. Allthey do is sit there in the parlor, stiff as boards. Eve is off visiting with a friend for the day, and I haven’t known what to do, what to say.”
“It’s all right, Miss Hodwell.” Sandrine smiled cheerfully, though inside her emotions were churning between abject terror and a strong urge to turn around and run anywhere but here. “I’ll go in and speak to them. Why don’t you go and have a lie-down? Perhaps with a plate of biscuits and a good novel?”
