“You’re right,” Louis agreed. “But whatever we do, we have to do it soon.”
“For more reasons than one,” Solange said. “The McGoverns depart for Italy in less than a week, which means I will be forced to depart as well.”
The news hit Louis like a bullet in his heart. He wasn’t ready to let her go. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be ready. He pulled her to a stop, staring at her forlornly, but unable to find words to express how much he wanted her to stay with him.
“This is our last chance,” she said in a whisper, gazing up at him with the same shades of regret in her eyes.
For a moment, they stood there, lost in each other. It might have been wrong for them to rush into an attachment with lightning speed in the most unusual and dangerous circumstances, but it was even more wrong for them to be wrenched apart so soon.
“That is quite an intense look.” Lady Briarwood sailed past them on her way to the breakfast room, a sparkle in her eye as she glanced at the two of them. “I hope I am not interrupting anything.”
“Not at all, my lady,” Solange said, taking a large step back from Louis and hurrying on after her mistress.
Lady Briarwood paused and turned to her. “What on earth are you doing tailing me when you have far more interesting company to keep?”
Louis grinned in spite of himself. All the rumors he’d heard about the outlandish McGoverns was proving to be true. He continued on to the breakfast room, taking Solange’s arm in his to escort her into the already noisy and active room as he did.
The table was already packed with McGoverns as Louis led Solange to an empty chair and pulled it out for her, and conversations were in full swing.
“You will not disgrace your family by attending a common dance hall,” Miss Wendine Sewett lectured a group of the female cousins with the loftiest titles at one end of the table. “Countesses and Marchionesses must behave with propriety and above all, keep to their own class.” Her sharp emphasis was directed straight at Solange as Louis bent over to ask what of the many choices of breakfast foods on the sideboard she would like.
Louis straightened, unsurprised to find the termagant glaring at him. “Good morning, Miss Sewett,” he greeted her with a nod and a smile. “You are looking well today.”
“You are looking a little too well yourself, Lord Sinclair,” Miss Sewett answered. “Perhaps I should extend my sphere of influence to include guests and friends of my employers.”
“There is no need, Miss Sewett,” Louis said as he moved away from Solange to fix both of them plates. “I know the rules.”
“Apparently, you do not,” Miss Sewett grumbled. “Which is why I must take it upon myself to set straight you and anyone else who strays outside of the lines.”
“And what gives you the authority to set yourself up as the harbinger of all things right and proper, Miss Sewett?” Louis asked. It amazed him how quickly the inconsequential woman could irritate him, and everyone else. He reminded himself to ask Asher McGovern what on earth had possessed him to hire the woman.
“My opinions are correct, my lord,” Miss Sewett answered. “That is what gives me authority.”
Louis arched a doubtful eyebrow at her. He didn’t have a chance to say anything else, though. The entire room turned its attention to an agitated Lady Evangeline McGovern as she flew into the room, face pale, eyes wide, a copy of Les Ragots in her hands.
“It’s bad,” she announced in a dire voice, coming to a stop at the head of the table and showing everyone the magazine she held. “It’s very, very bad.”
“What is it?”
“What is the matter?”
“What have they printed now?”
The table erupted with questions, each cousin speaking over top of the others.
Louis abandoned his efforts to fetch breakfast and stepped closer to Lady Evangeline, glancing over her shoulder. He caught the headline “McGovern Shame and McGovern Secrets” before Lady Evangeline handed the gossip rag to Asher, who had marched forward with all the command of a general to take it.
“There’s an entire article in there, with pictures, about Roselyn dancing the can-can at the Moulin Rouge,” Lady Evangeline revealed.
“But I didn’t see anyone with cameras while I was on the stage,” Lady Briarwood protested.
Asher lowered the magazine to glare at her. “You were on stage at the Moulin Rouge?”
“I was just dancing,” Lady Briarwood answered, lowering her head.
Asher made a frustrated noise and turned a page in the magazine. Louis tried to scoot closer to see what horrible things Lafarge had printed about the McGoverns, but before he could, all of the color drained from Asher’s face and he slapped the magazine closed.
“Burn this,” he said, thrusting the magazine at Lady Evangeline. “Burn every copy of it you can find.”
“I can’t very well track down every copy that has been printed,” Lady Evangeline said, looking as worried as it was possible for a woman to look.
“What seems to be the problem?” Louis asked, moving closer to Asher even as Marshall leapt up from his seat to stride toward them. Damien and Sebastian abandoned their breakfasts to come to Asher’s aid as well.
“The problem is that Les Ragots is pure filth,” Asher said, unable to stand still. “And the man who publishes it needs to be hung, drawn, and quartered.”
Louis couldn’t stand the suspense for another moment. He moved to Lady Evangeline’s side, holding out his hand for the magazine. Lady Evangeline reluctantly handed it over, pink splashing across her pale cheeks.
Louis scanned the pages, looking for whatever had set Asher off. Most of the pages were taken up with photographs of Lady Briarwood and descriptions of her evening at the Moulin Rouge. Louis had been there, and it was obvious at a glance that a great many of the details contained in the article were falsified or completely fabricated. It was the shorter article on one of the opposing pages that caught his attention and gave him pause. That article was simply titled, “Will the McGovern Secret Be Revealed?”
With a frown, Louis sped through the article. As with everything else Lafarge printed, it was vague and contained very little information, but it hinted at a mountain of scandal. The way it was phrased could have been twisted to suggest the McGoverns had financial troubles or sexual perversions, or even treasonous skeletons in their closet. It said nothing and said everything at once. Louis might have disregarded it, if not for Asher’s reaction.
“This is Lafarge’s doing,” Louis said, hoping his friend would find some sort of comfort in the words. “This is simply how Lafarge operates. He whispers and suggests without saying anything and lets his readers draw their own conclusions.”
Asher glanced in Louis’s direction, meeting his eyes with a look that said there was far more to the words on the page than hollow rumor-starting.
“Monsieur Lafarge needs to be stopped,” Lady Evangeline declared, stomping her foot. “This is unconscionable.”
“Yes, he should be stopped, and we should be the ones to stop him,” Lady Briarwood agreed.
“But how can we stop him?” another of the lady cousins asked.
“The only way to stop a man like that is to expose him for what he truly is,” Damien said, sending Asher a look of support.