Lady Briarwood exclaimed wordlessly, dropping her skirts in a hurry and rushing toward the edge of the stage. “Good heavens. Lord Sinclair.” Her face grew redder by the second, and she clapped a hand to her cheek. “If I had been aware someone I knew was in the audience….”
She let her words fade as Louis reached up for her, frowning as he was certain Asher would frown if he knew what his sister was up to. Lady Briarwood was clever enough to let him grasp her around the waist and lift her down from the stage. As soon as her feet were on the ground, Louis whisked her back through the restless audience—some of whom booed as Lady Briarwood was taken away. The dark-skinned woman had already started pushing the twins through the crush of people toward the door to the lobby.
By the time they made it into the relative calm of the lobby, Louis’s ears were ringing from all the noise.
“I must say, that was exhilarating,” Lady Briarwood said with a laugh. “I’m only sorry it ended so soon.”
“My lady, we should return to the Château de Saint-Sottises at once,” the dark-skinned woman said with a scolding look.
“Oh, Solange,” Lady Briarwood laughed. “I don’t know whether to resent your mothering or to thank you for taking such good care of me.”
Solange. It was a beautiful name for a beautiful woman. Louis let it sink into his psyche for a moment before saying, “Please allow me to escort you home.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Solange started to say.
“What a lovely offer,” Lady Briarwood answered over her. “One I accept. We’re so much more likely to reach the palace in one piece if we have a proper escort.”
“And to stay out of even greater trouble,” one of the twins murmured to the other.
Louis was certain the twins had the right way of things. He hailed a cab, then helped each of the ladies inside with the sort of gentlemanly consideration that the patrons of the Moulin Rouge had denied them. He climbed in last, and was forced to squeeze himself into a seat with the lovely Solange.
“I’m terribly sorry for the inconvenience,” he apologized when it was clear from Solange’s expression that she wasn’t at all happy about the arrangement. “I do hope we reach the palace quickly so that you don’t have to put up with me any longer than necessary.”
Solange said nothing, but she glanced oddly at him. Louis found he didn’t mind the strange look. Solange smelled wonderful, like summer flowers and sunshine. Lady Briarwood chattered away, relating all the adventures they’d had up until their arrival at the Moulin Rouge, and the twins, Miss Heather and Miss Sage, as he discovered their names were, provided comic relief with their expressions in reaction to Lady Briarwood’s stories.
Louis was disappointed by the time the carriage pulled up the long front drive of the Château de Saint-Sottises.
“Well, Lord Sinclair, this has been a delight,” Lady Briarwood said as Louis helped each of the women out of the carriage. “And I would like to repay you somehow.”
“That really isn’t necessary,” he said, handing Miss Heather and Miss Sage down from the carriage, then reaching his hand toward Solange. His heart jumped in his chest as Solange slid her hand into his. It was a reaction he rarely experienced when showing simple courtesy to a woman, but he found he liked it and wanted more.
“Kindness should always be repaid,” Lady Briarwood said with a shrug. “Therefore, I would like to officially invite you to spend the day and night with us tomorrow.”
Solange’s hand tightened around his as she stumbled out of the carriage.
“Are you well?” Louis asked her, holding her hand tightly and resting a hand on the small of her back as she regained her balance.
“I am,” Solange muttered. Louis could feel an incredible amount of tension radiating from her.
“We are planning a picnic tomorrow,” Lady Briarwood went on, oblivious to the exchange Louis and Solange were having. “It will be one of our last before we leave Paris and continue our tour on the Italian peninsula. And since we plan to be out late, I invite you to spend the night at the palace as well. Do say you’ll join us.”
“I—” Louis started, but was at a loss for words. He had mountains of unfinished business with Lafarge. He wanted much more than his mother’s brooch from the man. Lafarge was the owner of a horrific gossip rag, Les Ragots, which routinely blackmailed members of the French and English aristocracy, ruining lives. Few people knew Lafarge was the owner. He’d covered his tracks carefully, but Louis had learned his secret. A secret he was unable to share with the world because of the cavern of dirt Lafarge had about the Sinclair family, and several friends of Louis’s as well. And yet, since arriving in Paris, Louis had come closer and closer to finding a way of exposing Lafarge as the villain he was and ending his reign of terror once and for all.
But there he was, still holding Solange’s hand, tempted beyond measure to set revenge aside for the chance to get to know the beautiful and regal Miss Solange—perhaps Lady Solange, if the way she carried herself were any indication—much, much better.
His plans for revenge could wait one day.
“I would be delighted, Lady Briarwood,” he said, bowing to the woman, even though it meant letting go of Solange’s hand.
“Perfect.” Lady Briarwood clapped her hands together. “We will expect you tomorrow then, my lord.”
Chapter 2
Louis had no idea what to expect as he walked through the astounding opulence of the Château de Saint-Sottises late the next morning. The butler who had greeted him informed him that the entire McGovern clan was spread across the palace’s back lawn and that the picnic Louis had been invited to had already started. He pictured dozens of sedate Englishmen and women siting daintily in wicker furniture, gazing at the Seine as it flowed past the palace.
The sight that met him when the butler led him through tall French doors at the back of the conservatory was, simply put, chaos on a level Louis would have expected from a poorly-run boarding school. Half a dozen sporting events were taking place simultaneously, from croquet to badminton to cricket. Several of the ladies were riding bicycles in circles around the collection of blankets and quilts where a handful of McGovern cousins sat. Harried palace servants rushed around tables laden with food off to one side, but the cousins didn’t seem interested in eating.
“Oh! Lord Sinclair, you’ve arrived at last.” Lady Briarwood broke away from the badminton game and came to meet him, racquet in hand. “We were beginning to despair that you wouldn’t show.”
“Forgive me, Lady Briarwood.” Louis bowed politely to her, searching for the mysterious Solange as he straightened. “It isn’t even noon yet.”
“As to that,” Lady Briarwood shrugged. “We do not keep to the clock when we plan our festivities. When the spirit moves us, we move with it.”
Louis had a feeling truer words had never been spoken. While he had no personal experience of the McGoverns—at least not up until that point—he’d heard plenty of stories and rumors about them through the usual society gossip circles. The family was unique.
“The current badminton game is about to finish, then my cousin, Hattie, and I will be stepping in to play cousins Joseph and Ivor,” Lady Briarwood rushed on, gesturing with her racquet for him to follow her deeper into the chaos. “But I’m certain that if you find yourself a partner, you can join the queue to get a match in.” She paused, glancing to him and noticing the way he scanned the company. “That is, unless you have other activities in mind.” Her mouth curved up in a clever smile.