From Courtesan To Convenient Wife. Marguerite Kaye
on first inspection, to be eminently respectable. She called with a maid in tow. She had a visiting card. I have an enquiring mind and was intrigued enough to hear what she had to say. When I did, my immediate reaction was simply to dismiss her tale out of hand. In a bid to take the wind out of her sails I told her that she was wasting her time, as I was already married.’
‘I take it she didn’t believe you? Hardly surprising, considering what you have more or less confessed to being known as a dedicated bachelor.’
‘Yes, but it was more than disbelief. She was—I don’t know, it is difficult to explain. At first she was quite distraught, but she very quickly recovered. That is when she produced the legal documents—her silver bullet—which she believed would substantiate her claim. And that is when I realised she was not, as I had assumed, simply a brazen and audacious opportunist who would be put off by the threat of an invisible wife. It wasn’t only that she didn’t believe I was married, you see, it was that she was extremely convincing in the strength of her own case. Of course, the chances were still high that she was an extremely convincing charlatan, but...’
‘It occurred to you that she might simply be, as you said, deluded.’
‘Yes, that is it. Either way, it was clear that she was not going to go away.’
‘And you were faced with the problem of admitting that you had lied when you said you were already married, or coming up with the evidence to back up your fiction.’
‘Precisely, though I did not immediately rush to The Procurer for help. My next step was to test her resolve by telling her that I wished my lawyer to examine the papers she had to support her claim. She handed them over willingly, informing me that she had expected no less. It was clear she had faith in their authenticity, and equally clear that it had not occurred to her that I might simply destroy them.’
‘Any more than it would have occurred to you, I assume?’
‘You assume correctly.’
‘That is reassuring,’ Sophia said, with an odd little smile. ‘So, Mademoiselle de Cressy’s seemingly innocent trust in you was, then, another point in her favour?’
‘It was.’
‘And the documents, whatever they are?’
Jean-Luc rolled his eyes. ‘Most likely genuine.’
‘So you hired me to prove to Mademoiselle de Cressy that regardless of these documents she has, she is, as we say in England, barking up the wrong tree? You cannot marry her, because you are already married?’ Sophia frowned down at her hands. ‘You have gone to a great deal of trouble and expense to call this woman’s bluff. Couldn’t you simply have paid her off?’
‘I offered to do just that, to make the problem go away, but she refused. She said she wanted what was rightfully hers, not blood money. As you will have realised by now,’ Jean-Luc continued, ‘the matter is complicated, and I am aware that you have only just arrived. You have not even seen your room.’
He sat at an angle to her, his long legs tucked under the sofa, which had the effect of stretching his pantaloons tight over his muscled thighs. He might not look like an Adonis, but his build was reminiscent of one. His physical proximity made Sophia uncomfortable. Not unsafe, she was surprised to notice, but—odd. Her pulses were fluttering. It was because he was so close, a warning sign, she supposed, though she felt no inclination to move. ‘All in good time. I take it your plan is to introduce me to Mademoiselle de Cressy sooner rather than later?’
‘All in good time,’ he answered, smiling. ‘My plan for what remains of today is to allow you time to rest and recover from your journey. There is a good deal more to this tale, but it can wait.’
Jean-Luc took her hands between his, a light clasp from which she could easily escape, which meant she had no need to. ‘I will have them bring you dinner in your room, and water for a hot bath, if you wish?’
Sophia couldn’t imagine anything nicer. His thoughtfulness touched her. It had been so long since anyone had thought of her comfort, for in the end even Felicity...
‘That would be perfect,’ she said, desperately trying not to let fall the tears which suddenly stung her eyes. ‘I think I am a little fatigued after all. Merci, Jean-Luc.’
‘It is my pleasure, Sophia.’ He pressed her hands. Then he let her go.
Jean-Luc was in his working in his office the next morning when his new wife appeared, looking much refreshed.
‘May I come in?’ Sophia asked. ‘The footman told me that you don’t like to be disturbed, but I thought...’
He jumped to his feet to pull out a chair for her. ‘Remember that you are my wife, as far as the footman and every other servant is concerned. This is your household to command. In any event, you are not disturbing me. I am far too distracted to work, thanks to you. Are you rested?’
‘Fully.’ She took the seat he indicated, opposite him, but moved it forward, so that she could rest her hands on the desk which separated them. ‘Before you relate the rest of your story, I think it only fair that I reassure you, since you were so patient in reassuring me yesterday.’
‘Reassure me about what?’
She smiled at him faintly. ‘You said that your reasons for bringing me here were life-changing. I should tell you that my reasons for agreeing to come are also life-changing. Coming to Paris, taking on this role, contract, commission, I’m not sure what to call it—this false marriage of ours, if I make a success of it, and I am determined to do just that, the money I will earn will allow me to quite literally change my life.’ She bit her lip, considering her words carefully. ‘I will be free. Free to make my own way in the world, on my own terms. For the first time in my twenty-six years I will be able to live only to suit myself, to finally discover what it is I like, what I want, what makes me happy. So you see, the stakes are too high for me to fail. You can have no idea how much that means to me. I won’t let you down.’
There was a sparkle in her eyes, a tinge of colour that was not embarrassment in her cheeks, giving him a tantalising glimpse of the woman she could be, or would be, if she achieved her goal. He had thought her beautiful before, but seeing her like this, she positively glowed. ‘I can see for myself how much it means,’ Jean-Luc said, quite beguiled. ‘Thank you. May I say that I can think of no one I would rather pretend to be married to than you.’
She laughed. ‘We have not even been married two days. I will be more flattered if you still think so in a week’s time.’
‘Actually, as far as the world is concerned, we have been married since March. But I get ahead of myself. Are you comfortable? Because the tale I’m about to relay is long and convoluted.’
* * *
‘I don’t know what to say,’ Sophia said some time later. ‘I am utterly confounded. Juliette de Cressy not only claims that you are contracted to marry her, but that you are a duke!’
‘Of all the preposterous things this woman alleges, the lunatic notion that I might be the long-lost son of an aristocrat who went to the guillotine—’ Jean-Luc broke off, shaking his head. ‘Me! It is simply ridiculous.’
‘You know, most men would be both delighted and flattered to be informed they were of noble birth.’
‘Even if it means disowning the parents who raised them, who loved them and who tried to give them the best life possible in difficult circumstances? No.’ His mouth firmed. ‘I know who I am. My father—yes there were times when we did not agree, when I thought that he did not care for me, that he—he somehow resented me, but that is normal, for a father and a son, as one grows older, and the other stronger.’
‘I can imagine it would have been normal for you. I expect you were very sure of yourself,