moderate views were well known and would not be popular with the present government. I was reluctant to apply for papers to bring your father from France as it would alert the authorities.’
‘Yes, yes, I quite see that,’ said Dominique eagerly. ‘So what can we do?’
‘We will smuggle him into England,’ the viscount told her. ‘I shall send a man to France to fetch him home to you.’ He smiled. ‘How we are to achieve that is best kept a secret. Mr Rogers and I will go away now to thrash out the details and leave you and Gwendoline to finish your breakfast.’
‘Well,’ declared Gwen, when the men had departed, ‘that at least is good news for you, my dear.’
‘I can hardly believe it, after all this time.’ Dominique shook her head. ‘I shall take little James into the village later to tell Maman. It will deflect her attention from my own situation.’
‘Ah, yes.’ Gwen paused, crumbling a piece of bread between her fingers while she chose her words. ‘Perhaps Papa is right and Gideon has a good reason for what happened yesterday.’
Dominique put up her hands.
‘Do you not think I have gone over and over it in my mind? He told me I had nothing to fear from Agnes Bennet. And then, at breakfast yesterday, do you remember how he asked where we would be shopping and could we call into Irwin’s? Why did he not call in himself, if he was going into town? No, it was all a ploy to keep us from Piccadilly.’
‘It is all the fault of your horrid cousin,’ exclaimed Gwen, getting up from the table.
‘Perhaps, but he could not force Gideon to meet with her, could he? And he certainly had no hand in Gideon’s taking her up in his curricle.’ Dominique drew a long, angry breath. ‘I thought I could make him l-love me, but no. He might take his p-pleasure with me occasionally, but it is Agnes who owns his heart, and he can never forget that I am the p-penniless daughter of a F-Frenchman. And even if he could,’ she said, angry colour returning to her cheeks, ‘I cannot forgive him for deceiving me!’
‘So what will you say to him, when he comes?’
Dominique’s spurt of temper died away.
‘I really do not know,’ she said despondently.
‘Well, you had best think of something now,’ said Gwen, looking out of the window. ‘Gideon’s curricle is at the door. And—oh, heavens, he has Anthony with him!’
Dominique had jumped up as soon as Gwen spoke and now she stood beside her sister-in-law, staring out through the leaded glass. Her throat dried. She had run away from Gideon, taken his child. How angry he would be about that. Her Gallic blood surged furiously through her veins. If anyone had a right to be angry it was she—after all, he had deceived her, lied to her, and that was unforgivable.
There was the low rumble of voices in the hall. She reached for Gwen’s hand and together they turned to face the door.
Dominique flinched as Gideon strode in, Anthony close on his heels. Both men looked tired and grim, but fury blazed in their eyes. Gideon broke the silence.
‘Well, ladies. This is a merry dance you have led us.’ His voice was hard, his anger barely contained.
Dominique drew herself up.
‘Hardly merry, sir. I did not come here out of choice, I assure you.’ She stepped back, as if to hide behind Gwen, when Gideon made to approach. ‘Lord Rotham says I need not speak to you unless I wish to do so.’
‘By God, madam, you are my wife and you will—’
‘Yes, I am your wife, sir,’ she flashed, ‘and you would do well to remember it!’
Turning on her heel, she dashed from the room.
‘Dominique, stop.’ Gideon ran after her. ‘For heaven’s sake, woman, hear me out—!’
As his voice died away Anthony shut the door and stood with his back pressed against it.
‘So, you are teaching little Dominique your flighty ways.’
‘I have taught her nothing, my lord.’ Gwen watched him warily. There was something different about Anthony. A tension, like a predator, ready to spring. The anger still glowed in his eyes, but she noted also the dark shadows beneath. She said suddenly, ‘Have you travelled all night?’
‘How else do you think we managed to get here so quickly? And a curricle is not built for sleeping, I can assure you.’
‘I suppose you expect me to come back to London with you.’
‘Not immediately. You have not forgotten our last conversation, I hope?’
‘Of course not, and I really did mean to support you. I appreciate how hard you have been working these past few weeks, what with the peace breaking down, and Bonaparte doing all he can to buy more time with his tricks and stratagems—but you must see that this was an emergency.’
‘I see nothing of the sort. I told you I would stand for no more of your games, madam.’
‘Flirtations, you called them,’ she responded, trying to conceal her unease. ‘This was not like that, I was helping my sister-in-law—’
‘Yes, helping her to run away from her husband. It would have been better for everyone if you had encouraged her to have this out with Gideon at Chalcots.’
‘La, I vow you are grown very censorious, my lord.’ She tossed her head. ‘I shall not stay—’
‘You will stay, madam, until I have finished with you.’
She stepped back, eyes widening with apprehension.
‘What are you going to do?’
‘Something I should have done a long time ago.’
He turned the key in the lock and advanced towards her.
* * *
Dominique’s headlong flight from the breakfast room caused the servants to jump aside to avoid a collision and she had reached the stairs before Gideon caught up with her.
‘Dominique, listen to me!’
He grabbed her arm, but the fury blazing in her eyes when she turned to him made him release her again.
‘Why should I listen to you, when all you tell me are lies?’
‘No, believe me—’
‘You told me you would not see Agnes Bennet and within days you were meeting her secretly. I saw you, Gideon, in Piccadilly.’
‘Yes, but that was because she had news, about Max.’ She waved her hand, dismissing him, and sped up the stairs so that he was obliged to run after her. ‘Will you listen to me, you hellcat? I did this for
