Miss Lavigne's Little White Lie Page 26

  Lisette crossed her arms and sighed. Must a wife accept her husband’s wishes when she knew he was wrong?

  She turned her back on his chambers. Bumps came from Rafe’s chambers above.

  Henrietta hung the last of Lisette’s laundered petticoats on the pegs in the wardrobe then closed the mahogany doors. “Will there be anything else, ma’am?”

  “Send word to the governess I would like my brother to breakfast with me this morning.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Lisette might best be served by accepting her circumstances with grace and dignity as most well-bred ladies were required to do. The days would be long without Daniel, but she would find a way to fill them. Perhaps if she devoted herself to Rafe’s studies and the running of Daniel’s home, the separation wouldn’t be as agonizing as she was anticipating. Her first task would be to meet with Rafe’s governess to ascertain his progress with his sums.

  She arrived to the breakfast room before Rafe and Miss Channing, and requested the footman pour her a cup of tea. “Is Mademoiselle Vistoire still abed?”

  “No, madame. Mr. Tucker collected Miss Vistoire this morning. Almost an hour ago.”

  She held back a sigh. Lisette shouldn’t feel jealous of Serafine’s renewed love affair, but the timing of it highlighted her loneliness.

  “Good morning, Lisette.” Her brother recited his greeting as if he had been practicing before joining her.

  She smiled at Rafe as he slipped into an empty chair at the dining table and placed his napkin in his lap. He continued to improve in small ways each day under Miss Channing’s tutelage and daily trips to the docks with Daniel.

  A slight grin graced Rafe’s face. “I will finish the model galleon today.”

  “How marvelous.” Lisette tried to inject cheer into her response. Rafe would not take Daniel’s absence well, and she didn’t have the heart to tell him yet. “I should like to see it once you have completed the task. Please, join us, Miss Channing.”

  The governess sat on the vacant seat beside Rafe. “Your brother has done fine work, ma’am. I believe you will be impressed.”

  Lisette smiled. “I have no doubts.”

  At her urging, Miss Channing provided a detailed account of Rafe’s learning while they consumed their breakfast. Lisette and Daniel had made a good choice in hiring the governess. The young woman exuded kindness, patience, and a gift for engaging Rafe.

  “What other activities have you planned for the day?” Lisette asked.

  “I would like to take Master Rafe on a stroll through the park, with your permission, of course.”

  Lisette inclined her head. “That sounds like an excellent idea. The fresh air will do him good.”

  Rafe bounded up from his chair and dashed for the door. “I want a boat for the lake.”

  “Wait,” Lisette called, but he had already disappeared through the doorway. “He is single-minded when it comes to ships.”

  The governess smiled politely and ate her breakfast.

  Rafe returned a few moments later with a stack of foolscap.

  “You mustn’t run inside the house,” Lisette scolded. “Have a seat and finish your breakfast. Then you may make your paper boat.”

  Her brother frowned, but placed the stack on the table and resumed his seat. Lowering his head, he concentrated on pushing the eggs around his plate with his fork without taking another bite. Miss Channing tried to coax him into eating more, but her attempts were made in vain.

  When Rafe began to wiggle on the seat, Lisette recognized the futility in keeping him at the table.

  “You may be excused, Rafe. But you may not waste Daniel’s paper. Two sheets only.”

  He lifted his chin, and for a moment she thought he would argue with her. She exhaled slowly when he complied with her command. He counted out two sheets, lining up the edges, and climbed from the chair with the pages clutched in his thin fingers.

  After Rafe and his governess retired upstairs to ready themselves for the park, Lisette wilted against the seat back. The weight of her responsibilities settled over her. Rafe was under her care alone now. She wouldn’t have Daniel’s assistance for several months, and soon Serafine would marry and leave with her husband. The thought left her weary.

  She touched the napkin to her mouth then placed it beside her plate. There was nothing else to do except keep her mind off her loneliness. Standing, she rounded the table and retrieved the extra sheets of foolscap to return to Daniel’s study.

  The room was too quiet, his vacant desk appearing as lost without him behind it as she felt. Shaking off her self-pity, Lisette skirted the massive piece of furniture, her fingers skimming the polished mahogany surface before lowering to the seat.

  She opened the top right drawer to return his property and spotted a letter from New Orleans. Thinking the missive pertained to Rafe, she pulled it from the drawer, but the feminine scrawl gave her pause.

  “Miss Paulina Fanchon.” The letter came from a residential area of New Orleans. What business could Daniel have with this woman?

  With the seal partially lifted, Lisette attempted to peek through the crack with no success. Even holding the letter to the light only revealed an alphabet jumble that made no sense.

  To hell with grace and dignity. She broke the seal and devoured the words, her heart slamming against her ribs.

  Dearest Daniel, my love.

  My heart pines for you. Memories of your touch and kiss do not sustain me as I await your return. I am tormented by my days without you. Yet, each moment spent lying in your arms is worth a thousand lifetimes of sorrow. I know ecstasy in your embrace.

  I have readied the house in anticipation of your arrival, and I have filled each room with everything you love. The only thing missing is you. Please, return home to me soon.

  Forever yours,

  Paulina

  This was the true reason her husband had refused to take her to New Orleans. Daniel kept a lover, and she was waiting for him the same as he expected Lisette to wait.

  Fury raced through her veins, scalding hot and blinding. She pushed from the chair and stalked from the study with the letter in hand. Bursting into the corridor, she nearly invoked a reaction from the butler, but he recovered in an instant. His calm demeanor only served to provoke her further.

  He stepped forward with his ridiculous silver tray. “You have a caller, madame.”

  “I have no time for visitors.” She whisked by him to walk toward the foyer. “I wish to see my husband before his ship departs. Who calls at this improper hour?”

  She came up short. Monsieur Baptiste was loitering in the foyer, shuffling his feet. “It is I, madame. Please, forgive my intrusion.”

  Lisette shot an exasperated look over her shoulder at the butler but tempered her tone of voice. “You did not show Monsieur Baptiste to the drawing room?”

  “My apologies, madame, but the gentleman has only now arrived.”

  “Indeed.” She frowned, not at all pleased with the interruption, but she couldn’t fault the servant. Had she not barreled from the study in a fit of pique, he would have approached her in private. Then she could have denied Monsieur Baptiste an audience without insult. “You may return to your other duties.”

  The butler offered a terse bow and escaped from the foyer.

  “Monsieur Baptiste, please forgive my rudeness, but this is an inconvenient time.”

  “Yes, I couldn’t help overhearing. I apologize for calling at such an early hour.”

  Lisette rubbed her forehead. Her racing thoughts brought a pain to her head. “You are like family, monsieur. You may call at any hour.”

  “I had anticipated your upset once you learned of Captain Hillary’s plans. Is there anything I might do to provide solace? Perhaps a walk in the park would be of benefit.”

  Daniel had spoken with Monsieur Baptiste about his departure but kept it a secret from her. Her eye twitched with the effort of controlling her temper. It wouldn’t do to lash out at the ol
der gentleman, who offered her nothing but kindness. “How thoughtful, sir, but I fear the only solace I’ll find will come from speaking with my husband. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I wish to reach the docks before the Cecily sails.”

  Monsieur Baptiste stepped in front of her to block her retreat upstairs. “I gave my word to Captain Hillary I would watch out for you in his absence. Please allow me to escort you to the docks. The wharf is no place for a lady.”

  Rafe had wandered down the stairs with his paper boat and stood on the third step. “I want to go to the docks, too.”

  “This is not a good time, Rafe. Continue to the park with Miss Channing. You may visit the docks another day.”

  He walked down the remaining stairs and rounded Monsieur Baptiste to stand before Lisette. “I want to see the real ships.”

  “You will stay here,” Lisette snapped.

  Her brother’s face darkened and a low wail sounded deep within his chest. The noise rose, signaling the beginnings of one of his spells.

  “Oh, dear.” She hadn’t meant to set him off. She really hadn’t been thinking of him at all. “Forgive me for raising my voice. Another day we will visit the docks.”

  He began rocking back and forth from his waist. His hands fluttered as they often did before he launched into a full-blown fit of hysteria. The paper boat fell to the ground.

  Miss Channing placed her hands on his shoulders. “Master Rafe, what is it?”

  He jerked from her touch with a high-pitched scream. The governess’s eyes rounded and she froze. Her gaze darted toward Lisette, questioning.

  “Everything will be all right. Leave him be.” Lisette lowered to one knee so she was on his level. Monsieur Baptiste quietly slipped outside. “There, there, Rafe. Shh. We must calm ourselves.”

  “I want to go. I want to go.” To an outsider like Miss Channing, Rafe might appear to be nothing more than a spoiled child, but Lisette had ignited something in her brother he would be unable to stop once he reached a certain point.

  She should have been calm, not allowed her anger with Daniel to seep out.

  “I’ll escort you to the docks,” Monsieur Baptiste said from behind her. She startled, whipping her head toward his voice. He had slipped back inside undetected. “I will watch after Master Rafe while you speak with Captain Hillary.”

  Lisette looked up at Miss Channing. The governess hugged herself, a tremor shaking her slight frame. She wasn’t equipped to handle one of Rafe’s fits, and would have no idea how to provide him comfort.

  “I think it’s best if I take Rafe along,” Lisette said over her brother’s whimpering. “Miss Channing, would you retrieve my reticule from my chambers? It is resting on my writing desk.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The governess hopped to the task as if grateful to be charged with doing something productive.

  Lisette spoke soothingly to Rafe. “We shall travel to the docks now. We will see the black waters of the Thames, and the frigates, barques, and the schooners…”

  Rafe assumed recitation of all the ships he knew, mumbling them as he continued to rock.

  Monsieur Baptiste stepped forward. “The hack waited out front to see if I would be received. I have asked the driver to carry us to the docks.”

  Lisette turned to the gentleman with a grateful smile. “You are too kind, monsieur. Your assistance is appreciated.”

  He bowed. “I am your humble servant, Madame Hillary.”

  The governess returned with the reticule, Lisette placed Miss Fanchon’s letter inside, and grasped Rafe’s hand. “To the docks to see the Cecily.” She sounded much more cheerful than she felt.

  ***

  Serafine held back as Isaac banged his fist against Monsieur Baptiste’s door again. There was still no response. Where could he be at this hour?

  She held Isaac’s handkerchief over her nose and tried to breathe through her mouth. “What is that stench?” The piece of cloth muffled her voice.

  “That is the smell of debauchery, sweetheart. Spirits, cigars, and—” His face flushed pink, and he tried the handle instead of finishing his thought. “Excellent. It appears to be unlocked.”

  “We cannot enter uninvited.” Serafine breached the threshold rather than remain in the corridor despite her protest. The landlord hadn’t exhibited any qualms about allowing them entrance to the lodging house, and likely wouldn’t sound the alarm if they slipped into Monsieur Baptiste’s rooms. From all appearances, the man turned a blind eye to many things.

  “It does seem less disgusting inside,” she said.

  Isaac propelled her farther inside and closed the door behind them.

  The space housed few pieces of furniture, and those items were functional at best. There was none of the luxury enjoyed at number 17 Curzon.

  “I’m fully convinced after seeing these lodgings,” she mused, “Captain Hillary holds no fondness for Monsieur Baptiste.”

  “I wonder where the gentleman has hied off to this early.”

  “Good question.” She sighed. “I was anxious to speak with him at once this morning.”

  After reading the letter from Uncle Robert’s solicitor last night, she had hoped Monsieur Baptiste might be able to provide her with additional clues to her brother’s whereabouts. “If Xavier sent instructions to Monsieur Baptiste regarding the disbursement of Rafe’s funds as the solicitor suggested, the missive might indicate where Xavier has gone. We would at least know where to search if he sent something from a different locale.”

  She meandered through the room, uncertain of the reason she felt the need to linger when no one was home. “Uncle Robert must have been out of his mind to entrust Xavier with Rafe’s fortune.”

  Isaac’s gaze followed her. “But your uncle left Monsieur Baptiste in charge of running the mill. He was wise in that instance. Any man with a twenty percent share of the profits will be invested in making it a successful venture.”

  “True.” She continued her circle of the room. “Uncle Robert thought a lot of Monsieur Baptiste. The solicitor’s letter said Uncle had even arranged for his estate to go to Monsieur Baptiste if anything happened to Rafe or Lisette and neither left any issue.”

  Isaac frowned. “Doesn’t that strike you as odd?”

  “I think it was a gesture of kindness on Uncle’s part. Monsieur Baptiste is advanced in age. He’ll never outlive Lisette or Rafe. Besides, my cousin will have issue.”

  The hairs on her arms stood on end and she hugged herself. “Isaac, have you ever had a strange feeling you couldn’t shake?”

  “Like what?”

  “Like something isn’t quite right. I can’t explain it.”

  “If you mean there’s something not right about Mr. Baptiste, then I agree. I’ve never fully trusted him. Let’s see what secrets he keeps in his bedchamber.”

  Isaac’s boots knocked against the wood floor as he stalked toward the back room.

  “Wait! What are you looking for? You’ve never said anything about distrusting Monsieur Baptiste.”

  “There was never cause to speak up.”

  She paused outside the bedchamber door and watched as he moved to the wardrobe. “Monsieur Baptiste would stand to gain much if your cousins died without issue,” he said.

  “He doesn’t know the contents of the will. Otherwise, he would have had no reason to worry about Reynaud stealing Rafe’s estate. As long as it remains in a trust, it’s untouchable.”

  Serafine wandered to the wardrobe also and peered inside. “Monsieur Baptiste appears to own nothing more than the clothes on his back.”

  “He was taken from his home by force. I doubt Reynaud left him the option of packing for the journey.”

  “He was allowed a satchel, I believe, but point taken. There’s nothing here.”

  Isaac went to the bed next and pulled down the covers to search between the folds.

  Really, what did Isaac hope to find? A suspicious bed bug? “Perhaps under the mattress,” she teased.

  “Good idea.”r />
  She moved to the foot of the bed to allow Isaac access when he tossed the coverlet aside.

  Stooping, he snaked a hand underneath before sweeping his arm side to side. “I feel something.”

  He pulled a bundle of papers from underneath the mattress with a triumphant smile lighting his handsome face, but Serafine’s heart had stopped beating. With his back to the door, Isaac couldn’t see they were no longer alone.

  Reynaud filled the doorway. “Greetings, Mademoiselle Vistoire.”

  “Monsieur Reynaud.”

  Isaac whipped around. “What are you doing here?”

  Reynaud lunged for him, a flash of metal catching her eye, and she screamed. The sickening sound of Isaac’s grunt resounded in her ears. Reynaud jerked the weapon from Isaac’s middle and shoved him backwards. He landed on the floor at Serafine’s feet. A crimson tide soaked through his waistcoat.

  “Isaac!” Serafine crouched beside him and pressed his handkerchief against the wound.

  “I’m all right, Sera.”

  By the saints, he wasn’t all right. “We have to get you to a doctor.” A sharp pain exploded in her skull as Reynaud yanked her to her feet by her hair and pressed the knife against her neck. The cold seeped through her skin and into her bones. A violent tremor shuddered through her.

  “Tell me, mademoiselle,” he whispered in her ear. “Is Baptiste in on your blackmailing scheme, or are you using his rooms to hide my letters?”

  “Blackmail? I know nothing about blackmail.”

  Reynaud twisted her around to face him and gripped her shoulders. The glimpse of his knife from the corner of her eye made her legs tremble. “Don’t lie to me, mademoiselle. It is early and I fear I’m not a morning person.”

  She had never known him to be an evening person either. Nor was he pleasant midday or afternoon, for that matter. “I—I’m not lying.”

  Isaac attempted to push up from the floor, but collapsed. “Release her.” His voice was raspy and weak.