The shock of seeing her again was beginning to wear off; a good thing, as he needed to remain focused to keep the pretense alive. Claudette hadn’t yet realized his identity, or at least he didn’t think she had. But there was no telling how long the ruse could last. True, he hadn’t seen her in a decade, though beyond the undeniable fact of her intelligence, she was cunning and manipulative by nature, expecting insincerity in others, and she prided herself on finding it. Now, as she clung to his arm, her blond hair piled high on her head and brushing against his chin, her perfume invaded his nostrils with the pungent scent of roses.
Roses. Claudette always wore roses, and it would remain the scent he’d forever identify with her. The odor fairly nauseated him now, especially when coupled with the thick fog of smoke and stuffy heat that permeated the ballroom. The crowd had grown, slowing their progress toward the dance floor, but she would expect him to socialize with her, pretend with her. And with so much at stake, he decided he needed to be more than convincing. He needed to be Edmund tonight.
“You smell wonderful,” he leaned over to whisper in her ear.
She tipped her head up and gave him a knowing smile. “Darling, Edmund. Ever the flatterer.”
“Only when it’s warranted,” he admitted with an ease and a natural grin that almost astonished him.
She laughed. “Let’s dance, darling. We have much to discuss.”
Her jovial attitude expressed a mood he knew she didn’t feel. It had been years, but he could still read her temperament like a book. She was livid at his appearance tonight, and jealous of Olivia, which he found both oddly amusing and suspicious. That she still carried on some sort of relationship with his brother was obvious, though the extent or limit of that relationship was anyone’s guess.
Finally they reached the center of the ballroom floor, and without a word or hesitation, he turned and swept the woman who was once his lover, the woman who had caused such a scandal in his life all those years ago, into his arms. It took her no time to come to the point.
With a false smile planted firmly on her painted mouth, she stared at him directly. “Why are you back in Paris? You can’t possibly be finished with the Govance heiress.”
He wished he knew who the “Govance heiress” was, and where she lived. But Claudette’s question did tell him that Edmund had been sent from the city to do her bidding, and probably to woo another unsuspecting female of her fortune. No surprise in that, really.
“Olivia found me,” he replied lightly. “I couldn’t very well say I wasn’t done with our…endeavor, shall we say.”
She expelled a short puff of air that lifted the wisps of hair on her forehead. “So what did you tell her? She had to have been furious with you.”
He smiled wryly. “I told her very little, actually.”
“What exactly did you say?”
She kept a rigid smile on her face even as she cut him with her biting tone. The one thing he remembered about Claudette was that she always, invariably, needed to be in control. That she acted so irritated by his evasiveness, not to mention his totally unexpected return without her knowledge, meant it was tearing her up inside. He could feel her anger by the way she dug her painted nails into his well-protected shoulder and gripped his hand to the point of pain.
He chuckled as if she’d said something deviously amusing, for the benefit of those dancing around them, hoping to God he’d be able to make this explanation believable. “I told her exactly that being the foolish man I am, I gambled away most of the money and was terrified of returning to her. I told her that such a weakness was part of my upbringing, and that I still adore her. And then I asked her to forgive me.”
Claudette snorted most unbecomingly, and for the first time her face crinkled in distaste. Amazingly, after all this time, he still thought of her as a beautiful woman, only now he wasn’t the least bit attracted to her charms.
“Did she believe you?”
He winked at her, then murmured, “I’m here, aren’t I?”
She continued to gaze up at his face, her eyes narrowed in challenging suspicion.
“Is she still in love with you?” she asked, her voice controlled even as a trace of unsureness seeped through the question just barely heard above the din.
Sam felt his heart thumping hard in his chest. He wanted to lash out at her, to tell her with great enjoyment that Olivia, her dearest niece, couldn’t possibly be in love with her so-called husband and kiss him the way she just did. Oddly enough, it was that sudden realization that made him feel remarkably calm inside, elated even, and with that he offered her a genuine grin.
“I believe so, Madame Comtesse. But then, isn’t that what you want?”
For a few seconds, as he circled her around the parquet floor with expert ease in time to the waltz, she didn’t answer, though Sam knew her mind churned with ideas and worries. She looked older, the fine lines on her face more pronounced, even glaring under bright light. Still, her cosmetic application suited her and did manage to hide some of the telling signs of age. But then maybe he was jaded in his critical eye. To the oblivious onlooker, she’d no doubt appear the beautiful, buxom blond woman with the face of an angel. Just as he’d seen her the day she first walked into his life.
“I didn’t like the fact that you returned without telling me, darling,” she cooed at last, her words slicing into his thoughts.
He frowned, stroking her back with his fingertips. “Of course. I’m deeply sorry about that.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
The famous Claudette whine. He certainly hadn’t missed that in all these years. Inhaling a long, full breath, he replied, “Because Olivia hasn’t left my side since our return, and I couldn’t very well tell her I was going to visit you. That would have certainly raised her suspicions.”
She sighed, slowing her footsteps as the music selection played so expertly by the orchestra came to a close. “So what, pray tell, were you doing outside on the balcony with my lovely niece just now, Edmund? You seemed to be involved in a fairly…intimate conversation.” She very slowly took the arm he offered to lead her toward a buffet table. “It almost seemed as if something’s changed between the two of you.”
That’s the understatement of the century. “Oh, I don’t think so. We’d danced and she felt warm so I escorted her outside for some air. Why do you ask?” It felt good to put her on the defense for once.
She squeezed his arm, eyeing him through half-closed lashes as she accepted a full champagne glass from him. “I’m jealous, darling.”
He chuckled, noting how the tension eased from his rigid spine. Jealous, indeed. Only if it interferes with your calculated plans. He leaned over and whispered for her benefit alone, “Cunning witch.”
She laughed. “You’ve no idea.”
Sam stared her squarely in the eye. “Oh, but I know you very well, don’t I, dearest Aunt?”
Claudette blinked quickly several times, hesitating as her smile faded, then quickly swallowed the contents of her champagne flute before reaching for another. Sam stood his ground, waiting, unfazed, though wishing he could be more direct with her without raising her leeriness.
At last she stepped closer to him, turning him with a palm to his elbow so they faced away from the crowd and toward the open windows. “I heard you were sleeping with her, in her apartments,” she murmured. Then through a sigh of exasperation, she added, “I thought we had an agreement, Edmund.”
He could only begin to imagine what that agreement might be, but more important, it now became apparent that he and Olivia were being watched by someone reporting to her. That rattled him a bit even if he wasn’t all that surprised.
“Edmund?”
He shrugged, then admitted, “I am sleeping in her guest room for now.” For now. He couldn’t help but smile at the scintillating idea of changing that circumstance. “I don’t think she’s up to a more intimate companionship.”
She seemed to physically relax beside him. Then, with the first genuine tone of distress, she asserted, “You simply cannot consummate your relationship with her, Edmund. We’ve talked about the consequences before, and I think they’re even more vital now that you’ve returned. Olivia will want you to bed her, but you must be firm in your resolve. Are we still in agreement over this issue?”
Sam felt as if he’d been kicked in the gut, knocking the wind from him with the force of a thousand horses.
His brother had never bedded Olivia. Or at least Claudette believed he hadn’t. Was Edmund that stupid? Or that smart? It would make sense to keep the option of annulment open, for both of them, should they present their marriage license as legitimate, and in that regard Edmund had done Olivia a tremendous favor. If one could call it that. It could also be that his love for Claudette kept him faithful to her, though Sam doubted that idea simply out of past experience. Or maybe his brother just wanted to avoid the risk of getting Olivia with child, a possibility that seemed far more likely. As far as Claudette was concerned, perhaps she didn’t want them to consummate their faux marriage because of her familial care for her niece, or she was against it for personal reasons, and in Sam’s mind, the latter made more sense. The most surprising part for him was that Edmund didn’t want to sleep with the woman who truly believed they were married. She would have given herself to him gladly; if not for pleasure, then for duty. It had to be Edmund who had retreated from the intimacy. Edmund and Claudette were in this together. Always, Edmund and Claudette.
Still, once again he couldn’t rid himself entirely of the nagging notion that Olivia was involved in the deception and the three of them were playing him for money and ultimate ruin. There remained the chance that Olivia had told her aunt who he was before tonight’s event. His caution regarding his brother and Claudette had always led him to consider the worst of possibilities. And it bothered him tremendously that he didn’t yet know Olivia well enough to trust her. She had kissed him passionately, but could she act that well? He simply didn’t know.
Jesus. What the hell do I believe?
His incredulity regarding the million and one implications of this development must have shown in his expression.
“I see that I’ve shocked you,” Claudette said with a crooked, unflattering lift of her lips. “I’d hoped to. I realize you never wanted to make love to her before, but seeing you outside…well…” She grabbed her pink satin skirts and shook them out. “I suppose I just let my imagination run away with me.”
Sam felt fairly certain she didn’t see them kissing and hadn’t heard a word they shared, or her reaction would have been far more hysterical.
“You know I don’t want her,” he said quietly, finding it difficult not to choke on the words, “but pretenses must be kept.”
“Of course they must.” Her eyes brightened and she finished off the contents of her second flute in three large swallows. “My goodness, but you look like you need some champagne as well, darling,” she said fondly with a gentle pat to his cheek. Then she leaned up on her tiptoes and whispered in his ear, “I’m staying in the second floor guest room, at the corner of the east wing. I’ll see you there later.” And then without waiting for his reply, she backed away from him.
“Well, I’m sure your lovely wife is missing you by now, Edmund, and I must mingle.” She smoothed the back of her hair. “We’ll have a lovely chat another time. I’d adore hearing more about your recent travels.” With a lift of her skirts, she turned on her heels and left him.
Sam stared at her departing back until she disappeared into the crowd. Then, in sudden desperation, he went looking for a whiskey.