Jane Feather - Charade by Unknown (howl and other poems .TXT) 📕

his knee with a sudden movementthat took her quite by surprise, and twitched aside his robe. "Sit downagain." His eyes burned their message and with a soft laugh ofexcitement Danielle lowered herself astride him.

It was the next morning when St. Estephe saw her. She walked into thesalon with a chubby laughing baby on her hip. The

comte

inhaledsharply: the chevalier had omitted to tell him that she had a child.

Hewas not accustomed to seeing the aristocratic ladies of Versailles andnow the Tuileries carrying their babies with all the natural ease of acountry woman. In fact babies never appeared in Polite Circles—theyremained with their wet nurse until ready to take solid food, and thenin the nursery until old enough to make their bows or curtsies inrespectful silence.

"Comte,

I am delighted to seeyou." Danielle crossed the room, handoutstretched in welcome. "I am unable to curtsy, sir," she said with alaugh, "encumbered as I am. But we stand on no ceremony in this house.I bid you welcome."

He bowed low over her hand and murmured felicitations that judging bythe child's size appeared to be about nine months overdue.

"This

petit mediant

isNicholas, Viscount Beresford," she told him,tickling the child's chin. "It seems ridiculous that such a scrapshould carry such a burdensome title, do you not think?"

Roland found himself at a loss for an appropriate response. When he hadfirst seen this woman she had appeared a naive flirtatious child and heknew that the French court had considered her to be simply that—aningenue bride. Then he had seen her move through the streets ofrevolutionary Paris disguised

as a burgher's wife and she had not madeone false move. Now he knew her to be the leader of a group of men who,judging by their conversation last night, held her in considerablerespect. He could understand why. A quiet authority radiated from theslim figure, an authority that he suspected had little to do with thefact that she was on her own territory, a gracious hostess greeting herguests.

"A most handsome child, milady." He found his voice at last. Daniellesmiled. He had clearly said the

right thing.

"I think he takes after his father, but Linton will have none of it,"she informed him cheerfully. The child wriggled imperatively in herarms. "Oh, very well then. You may get down and find your godpapa." Sheset him on his knees and Nicholas crawled rapidly in the direction ofLord Julian, who was inviting him with a crooked finger.

"So,

comte

, what brings youto London?" Danielle asked directly. "Letus move to the sofa. I am anxious to hear news of France."

I am certain you are, the

comte

thought, but he said, "The news is notgood, milady, as I am sure you

are aware. I am come to offer myservices in whatever manner they can be used."

"You are not come then to wave the sword and spout rhetoric?"

Amazing woman! So, she was not taken in by any of this pointlessscheming. She would be a worthy opponent indeed. "I think the time forsuch displays is past," he remarked carefully and received his reward.

"How good it is to hear such sense,

monami.

The chevalier and I are atour wits' end as to how to persuade our countrymen that they must thinkpragmatically and eschew emotion. You will help us, I hope."

"In any way you command, milady."

"Oh, I do not command,

comte

,and you must call me Danny, everyone elsedoes so." The smile was ravishing, not exactly flirtatious but full ofwarmth. St. Estephe found himself responding as nearly in

kind as hewas capable.

"St. Estephe. How delightful." Linton's cool voice brought the

comte

back to reality. The earl took snuff delicately as he greeted hisguest, but his eyes carried none of the voiced message.

Danielle sensed the flash of hostility between the two men and frowned.Why should Justin have taken such a dislike to St. Estephe and why wasthat dislike returned in full measure?

"Coz, this son of yours is a veritable plague," Jules complained,inadvertently diverting Danielle's thoughts as he attempted to prisehis godson's fingers loose from an enameled snuff box lying on anoccasional table. Nicholas wailed in loud protest as his prizedisappeared.

"Nicky, no." Justin scooped him up. "You may not have that." Nicholasbellowed, an ear-splitting yell

that made St. Estephe shudder.

"If you cannot behave yourself, my son, you must return to thenursery," his father said firmly, pulling the bell rope.

"Oh, let me have him." Danielle moved swiftly but her husband shookhis head.

"It's time he had a rest, Danielle. He cannot be allowed to tyrannizethe drawing room." When the footman appeared in answer to the summons,he found himself in possession of a red-faced squawling infant. "Takehim to Tante Therese, would you?" Justin requested pleasantly.

"Yes, my lord." The footman bore the child away quite cheerfully. Itwas not an unusual duty in the Linton household these days. The youngviscount was quite accustomed to the brawny arms of footmen, coachmen,and even, on occasion, Bedford and the chef. His mother and TanteTherese spoke to him in French, everyone else in English and, exceptwhen he was thwarted, Nicky's little world was a land of enchanteddiscovery.

St. Estephe found himself reformulating his preconceptions yet again.He had established the fact of a love match between these two, howeverill-assorted their ages and temperaments. Now they were parents andmost unusual ones at that—openly affectionate, both of them totally atease with that damp bawling creature. He cast a covert glance at theCountess of Linton. She was engaged in an animated, laughing exchangewith that idiot Englishman, Viscount Westmore. It was one thing towinkle a wife from the tight shell of her marriage, quite another topin and withdraw a mother. The challenge grew more exciting. He wouldhave the woman, renegade aristo, loving wife, and devoted mother, andhe would break her before returning the pieces to her husband and child.

"What is it between you and St. Estephe, Justin?" It was not until