Chapter Three
The groom saton the floor beside the fire. “What is it about a fire that draws one’s eye? It has a certain fascination.”
“As long as it’s contained,” Guy answered, with a swift rush of memory.
Simon’s shoulders drooped into a relaxed pose. He was quite graceful for a man, the shape of his hip and thigh rather feminine. Guy fought an absurd pull of attraction as he studied the slender column of his neck and the curve of his cheek. The lad had delicate skin like a woman. Guy pulled his gaze away. These feelings were very strange.A la Grequehad never interested him. A woman’s body offered enough delights for him.
To distract himself from this absurd and peculiar sensation, he began to speak of his childhood in France. “My mother was French,” he said. “We were forced to flee France duringThe Terrorand lived in Brussels for a time. While we were away, our properties were seized and our relatives, who remained, were murdered by guillotine. The shock and strain of it made my mother ill. After she died, my father quickly followed. Before he passed away, I vowed I would return to England and claim what was rightly ours. That I would marry and have sons. It was his dearest wish.”
He climbed to his feet, relieved the dizziness had abated and made for the door. “I shall have to brave the cold to relieve myself. Will you join me?”
Simon ducked his head. “No, I’m right. I, um, went before.”
*
A log tumbledonto the hearth, and Hetty jumped up to kick it back into the fire as the baron returned and slammed the door shut behind him. He sank onto the cot and scratched somewhere near his groin. Hetty peeped at the bulge there. She had tucked a rolled-up stocking into her breeches, but it was small by comparison.
“Did you join the army?” she asked to distract herself as well as him.
“I suspect we have bugs in this bed. I do hope not. What I would give for a hot bath, would not you, Simon?” He frowned and continued. “France was at war on many fronts when Napoleon seized power. Every able-bodied man was forced to join the army. I contracted a fever, which brought me low for some months, and by the time I recovered, the situation had changed, and they had forgotten me. I was glad. After what happened to my family, I had little sense of patriotic duty, I’m afraid. And my father had instilled in me a pride in all things English.”
“Why didn’t your father return to England when the other French émigrés began to desert France?” she asked.
He gazed down at his hands. “No doubt you know the story?”
“There has been some mention of a duel.”
“The thought of being tried by his peers deterred him.” He shook his head. “I suspect Father suffered great shame. He had not intended to kill the man and wasn’t proud of what he’d done as a callow youth. He hesitated too long. He did not wish to subject my French mother to the cruelty thetonwould inflict on them. And by the time we had to leave, Maman was not strong enough to endure the journey to England.”
Filled with sympathy for his sad life, Hetty didn’t trust herself to speak. She stared at the fire as the room became hushed.
*
Simon half-turned towardhim. “Do you have any family still living?”
A woman would be glad of such a profile. Guy was almost sorry the silence had ended. It had become strangely companionable. “Oui, I have a sister, Genevieve, she is married and lives in Paris.” He frowned. “I had a twin-brother, Vincent. He was lost after our chateau was ransacked by peasants and set on fire in the days ofThe Terror.”
“That must have been devastating.”
“We were twelve at the time. My father risked his life searching for Vincent. He continued to look for him when we returned to France but found no proof that he lived. It was very difficult for Papa to accept that Vincent had died in the fire. It broke his heart.”
“How sad. You will remain in England?”
“Oui.It is a nobleman’s duty to marry and secure his lineage.” He shrugged. “Whether he loves the woman he chooses or not.”
Simon jumped to his feet and snatched up a bowl from the table. “I’ll fetch some snow. We can melt it for water. I have sandwiches and an apple in the saddlebag. I planned to stop for a bite but then forgot.”
“Sandwiches?”
“Bread and cheese, meat and pickles.”
“Bon.”
Guy watched Simon wrestle with the door as wind and a flurry of snow blew into the room. The temperature dropped, and the flames in the fireplace flattened, then roared.
The groom managed to slip through and close the door behind him. Guy was left with the thought of a female derriere, though where it had come from, he knew not. Bemused, he recollected that he hadn’t enjoyed a woman for a while.
*
