“This is not some nobody you are wedding, you realize,” Madame Bernard said. “She’s the granddaughter of a count.”
Heathbrook fought to hide his surprise. He’d had no idea. “Then she and I are well matched, wouldn’t you say?”
“We shall see.” Madame Bernard turned to her daughter. “I’m ready to leave, Giselle. I am very tired.”
“Of course, Maman,” Giselle said. “But first …” Slipping her hand from his, she hurried to her large reticule, which leaned upon a sofa cushion, and rooted around in it until she found what she was looking for.
Then she approached him with a sheaf of papers. “You will probably need these, my … Heath.”
“If you say so,myGiselle.” Although it was better that Giselle call him Heath than call him “my lord,” he flashed her a chastening glance as he took the papers. She would have to be more convincing than this if she was to deceive everyone about their engagement.
Still, he hated to admit it, but the sound of “Heath” on her lips did something unexpected to his pulse. For all their shortcomings, his parents had been in love with each other. The nickname “Heath” had held a wealth of affection when his mother spoke it to his father.
He looked down at what Giselle had handed him and realized it was the forged passports of her and her mother. He would indeed need those.
Then he rang for Renham, who came so quickly, Heathbrook was almost certain he’d been listening at the door. “Have the ladies’ carriage brought around.”
Renham neared him to whisper, “They came in a hackney, my lord.”
So, they could afford gowns, but not an equipage of their own? That was good to know. “Then call for my carriage. I’ll accompany the ladies home.”
“There’s no need for that,” Giselle said hastily.
“Nonsense. I’m not going to let my fiancée and her mother ride unaccompanied about London. It’s too dangerous.”
“But you have places to go, do you not, sir?” Giselle said, casting a meaningful glance at the papers in his hand.
He sighed. “Very true, my dear.” Of course she would want this taken care of as soon as possible. And he couldn’t really blame her.
When he turned to Renham, the butler looked as if he were choking on his tongue. “Er … um … fiancée, my lord?”
“Yes. Miss Bernard and I are newly engaged. I hope you will wish us joy.”
Fortunately, Renham had the good sense to mask his shock. “Certainly, sir! Congratulations!”
“Thank you. Now, will you see to it that the ladies are accompanied home in my carriage? Send one of the footmen. I’ll take the phaeton.”
“At once, my lord.” With a bow, he hurried out into the hall.
“I’ll walk you out,” he told the ladies in French. “Renham will make sure you get home safely.”
“How very kind of you, Lord Heathbrook,” Madame Bernard said, even taking his arm when he offered it to help her down the front steps. “I hope you will join us for dinner tomorrow evening.”
“Maman!” Giselle said from behind them. “I am sure his lordship has plenty of other important matters to attend to.”
“None that I can think of,” he said, relieved that Giselle’s mother was going along with his plans, albeit unwittingly. “In fact, if you wouldn’t mind, madame, I’d like to take Giselle riding in Hyde Park beforehand, say, around three in the afternoon? With your permission, of course.”
“I do not know how to ride, sir,” Giselle interjected before her mother could answer. “I never learned.”
“Why not?”
“City lady, remember? I walked everywhere or took Papa’s carriage.”
They reached the bottom of the steps just as his carriage pulled up in front of them. He halted to look at Giselle as the footman put down the step. “Then perhaps I can teach you sometime.” When Giselle looked alarmed by that, he added, “But not tomorrow. Hyde Park isn’t the place for riding lessons. So, perhaps we can drive in my phaeton instead.”
“As long as you do not drive recklessly and Giselle takes her maid,” Madame Bernard answered, “I suppose that would be fine. Don’t you think, Giselle?”
“Yes, Maman.”