Tallie's Knight Part 21

"Now, my dear, run upstairs and wash your face. My nephew, Fabrice, will be 'ere in thirty minutes to take us to a concert. When your us band returns to Paris you will not wish him to know you 'ave been pining for 'im. I 'ave many social engagements planned for you--and it will do you good to go about more in society, nonV Tallie's head was spinning, but she knew a lifeline when she saw it.

She blinked back tears.

"You have been so very kind to me, madame, and I am no one--a stranger. How can I thank-?"

"Ah, non." Madame Girodoux brushed Tallie's thanks aside gruffly.

"We are all strangers at first-- oui-but 'ow else can we make new friends, eh? Now, run upstairs, child, and wash your face. Fabrice will be here any moment."

True to her word, Madame Girodoux arranged all of Tallie's entertainment over the next ten days. With the willing escort of her nephew Fabrice, an elegant young fop, she showed Tallie a new side of Paris. Tallie made morning calls, attended concerts, routs and soirees. She still missed Magnus desperately, still felt as though she had failed him in some indefinable way, but now, with Madame Girodoux's a.s.sistance, she was learning to cope with the public aspects of her new life, at least.

But after a week had pa.s.sed without a single word from Magnus, Tallie had begun to feel aggrieved. It was not right that he had left her to sink or swim in a foreign city. He was careless and thoughtless and cold-hearted. Obviously their night of pa.s.sion meant absolutely nothing to him. The most wonderful night of her entire life and the very next day he'd gone off to some horrid hunting lodge. He didn't even seem to care whether she loved him or not, for how could he abandon her like this if he did?

And the worst thing was she still loved him--cold-hearted Icicle that he was!

Chapter Eleven.

1 we days later, in the evening, Magnus returned. Tallie was in the hall, about to leave for a concert. Mindful of Madame Girodoux's advice, Tallie greeted him coolly. He responded with equal politeness, quite as if he'd been away for an hour or two instead of abandoning her for days on end. He offered no word of explanation for his absence. That omission gave Tallie the courage she needed. She wished him a polite "Good evening," and sailed out of the hotel to attend the concert.

Stunned, furious, Magnus watched her blithely step into a strange carriage. He'd spent the last two weeks missing her, fighting his desire to return to Paris immediately and take her straight to bed.

He'd told himself he could handle it, handle her, that he would not fall in thrall to her like his father had to his mother. He'd kept himself busy during the day, riding, hunting, playing cards and drinking. But at night all he'd been able to think of was the sweet, loving way she'd responded to his caresses, and her words--7 love you, Magnus.

The abyss had beckoned blackly. But the craving to hear those words again had grown within him until he'd been well- nigh unable to think of anything else, and so, with distracted words of thanks and farewell to his hosts, he'd ridden back, all the way to Paris, imagining her falling into his arms the mo menthe walked in the door.

He'd pictured it a thousand times, her start of surprise, plea 7 sure and welcome. He would carefully remove his hat and coat, careful not to show her how much power she had over him. She would be waiting anxiously, that sweet look of antic.i.p.ation and desire in her clear amber eyes, her tender body swaying gently towards him. He'd force himself to wait. and dinner would be spiced with antic.i.p.ation and desire.

And at the end of dinner she would look at him, that wideeyed look which never failed to move him, and he would wait no more. He would lay his table napkin down, push back his chair, walk around the table and hold out his hand. She would place her small, trembling hand in his and he'd raise her to her feet and escort her to his bedchamber.

And then. Instead, d.a.m.n it, she'd greeted him politely, chatted for five minutes about how busy she had been while he was away and gone out to a concert with some d.a.m.ned French female! And an elegant blasted French fop!

"Where the devil have you been, madam?" demanded Magnus as he followed her into the breakfast parlour next morning.

"And who was that puppy who handed you out of his carriage just now?" It was the same fellow who'd escorted her last night. The fellow who'd be dead by now had Magnus not heard her return the previous night at about eleven. He'd also heard her lock her door, which had infuriated him, but he'd decided to deal with that in the morning. But when he'd awoken this morning, and found a spare key, he'd entered her chamber only to find her gone. And his rage had grown.

Tallie pulled up short at his accusatory tone. Where the devil had she been? Madam! When he had been absent for two long weeks!

"I told you about it last night," she said indignantly.

He glared.

"I don't remember any arrangement about you leaving here at some unG.o.dly hour of the morning. Where in Hades did you get to? And with whom?"

Tallie remembered Madame Girodoux's advice about quarrels and tried to quell her shaking insides. She carefully removed her hat and laid it

on the side-table. Glancing in a gilt's Knight framed looking gla.s.s, she took her time tidying her still-damp hair, well aware that her husband was glowering at her back.

He would have to learn she did not care to be spoken to in this tone before breakfast, particularly when she knew perfectly well she had done nothing wrong. He might well have forgotten where she'd said she was going, but he should know she never took a step outside without Claude, his tame gorilla, in tow. And he was the one who'd taught her that husbands and wives did not live in each other's pockets. Sauce for the gander and all that.

Finding her hair sufficiently tidy, she went to the sideboard and selected warm rolls, scrambled eggs and kedgeree, then seated herself at the table.

"Mmm, this kedgeree smells delicious. Have you tried it, my lord?" If I am to be 'madam' then he can be 'my lord', she thought rebelliously.

He slammed his fist down on the table.

"d.a.m.n it, Tallie, where the devil did you get to? You weren't in your bed when I woke."

Tallie's annoyance dissipated in a rush of warmth. He had wanted her when he woke. He had missed her. Frustration-that was why he was so cross. Good. She hid a tiny smile and took a bite of eggs.

"Do you not recall, my lord?" she said when she had swallowed.

"I had an engagement to visit a bathing establishment with Madame Girodoux."

"At half past seven in the morning?"

Tallie nodded, her mouth full of kedgeree.

"Yes," she said eventually, 'but it was worth it. Do you know? They scent the bath water with any perfume you wish--eau de cologne, rose water lavender--even salt water if you want, which I believe is frightfully healthful. The par fumier even offered to create a scent especially for me. " Tallie blushed, remembering how the dapper par fumier had kissed her hand and called her la belle Milady Anglaise.

Magnus watched the pretty colour rising in her cheeks. He frowned. His desire for her was well-nigh unbearable.

"But I asked for lily-of-the-valley instead." She raised her wrist to her nose and sniffed.

"Mmm, lovely, don't you think? It was the most wonderful place. Each bath is large, and so deep you can have hot water almost to your neck, and you just sit there in this deliciously scented water and look out onto an exquisite little garden simply filled with red roses-quite private, of course. I've never seen anything so lovely or exotic." She blushed again, recalling how she had wallowed for over an hour in the deepest bath, dreaming of how Magnus would take one whiff of her, sweep her into his arms and make violent, pa.s.sionate love to her.

Magnus's frown darkened. Her words painted a very vivid picture--one he could imagine only too well. His wife, pink and naked in her bath, her skin slick with water and scented oils, fragrant clouds of steam swirling around her, and outside a flower garden, giving the illusion of being out in the open. It sounded as if the bath would have been large enough for two. He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry, his body throbbing, painfully aroused.

"And that d.a.m.ned French puppy?" he growled.

She made a moue of irritation.

"He is not a puppy, but a very pleasant and gentlemanly young man, my lord. Fabrice Dubout--Madame Girodoux's nephew. I... I took a little longer than expected in the bath, and Madame Girodoux had another engagement, so she asked Fabrice to escort me home." Tallie bit into a roll.

"And on the strength of this brief acquaintance you call him Fabrice?"

he grated.

Tallie glared across the table at her husband and set down her cup with a snap.

"Yes!"

Oh! He was infuriating. He could go off to who knew where, doing who knew what, leaving her behind, hurt, confused and lonely, and then return, growling and snarling like a suspicious wolf! Pretending to believe she would behave immorally. As if she would.

He knew perfectly well that she loved him--she'd told him so. And even if she hadn't fallen in love with a horrid, suspicious man, she had taken vows of fidelity and she would never break them, no matter how fashionable it was. And even if she did wish to betray him, how could she, when she was accompanied everywhere by the ubiquitous Claude?

No, Magnus was just being disagreeable because when he had returned she hadn't behaved as he'd expected her to, and when he'd awoken she hadn't been where he'd expected her to be. Madame Girodoux was right--a little uncertainty was good for a husband.

"I am invited to a the this morning, my lord. Do you care to accompany me?" "A what?" The frown had not left his face, but she refused to give in and explain herself.

"A the." Tallie smiled.

"Being English, we are known to adore tea--' " Can't stand the stuff, myself. "

"I know, and though the French firmly believe their thes are English through and through, any resemblance to an English tea party is purely coincidental, I promise you." Tallie smiled reminiscently, recalling her first the.

It was not the consumption of alcohol as well as tea, and the combination of children's games and gambling which had surprised Tallie at first--it was the French ladies' tea gowns.

Parisian women seemed to cover themselves more with cosmetics than clothing. To English eyes, their gowns left the ladies almost in a state of nature, being so light and almost transparent, and having no sleeves and baring the whole of the neck. It was a little disconcerting to address oneself to elderly dowager attired as flimsily and inadequately as one of the statues in the Louvre--Tallie hadn't known where to look. She smiled again, imagining her husband's face when she appeared in her own French tea gown, only half as daring.

"And I suppose if I do not escort you to this blasted the, that d.a.m.ned puppy will." His voice bristled with dark suspicion.

"Yes, Fabrice will escort me... if I ask him." She met her husband's gaze in a direct challenge.

"Hrmph!" Magnus fiddled with his coffee cup for a moment.

"It might be interesting to see how the French botch a simple tea party," he said at last.

Tallie hid a smile.

"In that case, I must rush and change, for we leave at ten."

Magnus watched her hurry from the room, noting the enticing sway of her hips and the damp wispy curls that tumbled around the nape of her neck.

A faint trace of lily-of the-valley hung in the air. It took all his resolution not to follow her up to her bedchamber.

d.a.m.n and blast it all. He was getting deeper and deeper into hertoils. It had shocked him to realise how bereft he had felt when he'dlooked for her that morning and found her gone. For one wild momenthe'd thought she'd left him, and the feeling of abandonment anddevastation still haunted him. He'd imagined all sorts of things, andwhen he'd seen her being handed down from a strange carriage by amincing, hand-kissing Frenchman he'd been filled with a mixture ofrelief and rage.

She was picking up female tricks, he realised. Getting herself ad.a.m.ned Froggy cicisbeo. And when he'd challenged her about it, had sheacted guilty or distressed? No! She had stared at him with those bigamber eyes and got him all hot and bothered talking about a bath bigenough for two.

It had been a mistake to leave her in Paris on her own. And perhapsshe was a little annoyed with him--yes, that was it. She wasn't likehis mother--not really. He was a fool even to consider it. Darkuncertainty gnawed at him.

d.a.m.n it! If tea was what it took to keep his wife where she belonged,

then he would drink gallons of the filthy stuff.

"Madame Girodoux has invited me to go vagabond ising this evening," said Tallie as they returned home. Her husband glowered silently from the corner of the carriage. He had not said a word since she had removed her cloak on arrival at the the. Revealing her new pale gold French tea gown.

It was perfectly respectable--compared with most of the other ladies' gowns. But after his first stunned glance his eyes had narrowed to icy chips, and an even blacker frown had descended on his face.

He'd said not a word to a soul all afternoon. And to think she had once thought his manners were beautiful. He hadn't taken his eyes off her for an instant. Tallie had found that dark, icy glare decidedly unnerving, but her courage had been bolstered by Madame Girodoux's smiles and nods of approval.

And so Tallie had mentioned the vagabond ising excursion, knowing full well Magnus would disapprove.

Magnus snorted wrathfully.

"Madame Girodoux and her simpering blasted nephew, I suppose."

Tallie shrugged.

"Madame did not mention who else was in the party, but it would not surprise me if Fabrice were included. She is very fond of him."

Magnus grunted.

"What exactly does vagabond ising mean?"

"I'm not entirely certain, but I think it means exploring the less respectable parts of Paris by night. It sounds utterly thrilling, does it not?" Still a little nervous about these tactics, Tallie forced herself to smile sunnily at him. She wished she had not to resort to stratagems to gain his attention. It would be wonderful if he craved her company as much as she craved his. but she was learning to cut her coat to suit her cloth. And if stratagems were what it took, then so be it. And he had responded to her gown in a wonderfully jealous manner.

Magnus glowered at her.

"I think I know as much about the night life of Paris as madame or her precious nephew. Would you object if I escorted you on my own private tour?"

"Oh, Magnus, it would be utterly splendid!" Tallie exclaimed and, jumping up, she flung her arms around him and pressed a fervent kiss on his mouth.

Taken by surprise, Magnus hesitated for a moment. Tallie started to draw back, but before she could he gathered her into , a hungry embrace and was kissing her with unrestrained pa.s.sion. He drew her onto his lap, kissing her hard, his mouth devouring her, one large, warm hand cupping her head in a firm, tender hold, the other possessively roaming her body, caressing, seeking, bringing her to the brink of pleasure.

"Oh, Magnus," she gasped, overwhelmed by his unexpected move. She kissed him back with all the love in her heart, her anger forgotten.

She slipped her hand into his shirt and nib bed the palm of her hand over his chest in a way she knew he liked. She felt a glow of feminine satisfaction, feeling him shudder beneath her fingers.