He swallowed hard. “I didn’t lie today. I merely didn’t tell you everything.” When she bristled, he held up a hand. “But next time I will reveal every part of my plan. I swear.”
“I would appreciate that.” She dragged in a deep breath. “And the third and final rule—you will keep me informed about the progress of acquiring legitimate papers for me and Maman.”
“I’ve already been doing that,” he snapped.
“All you did was tell me that Lewis Nash is really Vaughan Jones. While that is interesting information, it does not tell me how that affects me and Maman.”
He thought back to their conversation. Damn. Hehadn’ttold her much, had he? One more sin to add to his account. “Forgive me. I was too interested in your tale of your childhood to go on. But I will tell you everything now.”
And with that, he proceeded to reveal all that Beasley had told him. By the time he was finished, they were in the phaeton and hurrying back to her and her mother’s rented town house.
She looked agitated again. “So, to gain legitimate papers, I would either have to marry you in truth or lie and say that the papers were lost or stolen.”
“That about sums it up.”
“Since neither of us is interested in marrying in truth, I suppose the lies are the only way?”
“Unless you want to trust to my power as your fiancé to protectyouand just worry about your mother’s papers. What do you think? Would your mother be willing to tell the French ambassador that her papers were stolen or lost? Beasley is convinced that is the best way to proceed.”
“And what of your friends in government?” she asked. “What do they think?”
“I haven’t asked them yet,” he said. “I wanted to consult with you first, before I started drawing my own government’s attention to your dilemma.”
“That is wise, I suppose.” She straightened in the seat. “Before I do anything, I must speak to Maman. Proclaiming the passports lost or stolen would be hard for her. Ever since the Revolution—”
“She’s afraid to go against her government.”
“Oui.”
“I can understand that. The French government has been in such turmoil since then that it would be difficult for anyone toknow how to approach them. Especially since they haven’t stopped using the guillotine.”
“Exactly,” Giselle said, her voice trembling again. “We should discuss it at dinner. Then at least we will have a plan of action.”
“Good idea.”
She cast him a quick look. “And Monsieur Jones? What shall we do about him?”
Heathbrook stared grimly ahead. “Leave him to me.”
Chapter 7
In the end, Giselle and her mother had agreed to give Heath time to figure out how best to handle Vaughan Jones. Heath had said he needed to learn more about the man from other détenus, and she knew that was probably wise.
She only hoped he was doing it as diligently as he was trying to regain his brothers. She had seen him nearly every day for some social occasion or another, and at every one, he had insisted on introducing her to the guests as his fiancée.
Although he had warned her to expect such a thing, it had reinforced her impression that she was but a cog in the wheel of his machinations. Especially since whenever she had seen him, he had been most formal with her.
When he was not squiring her and her mother to some affair, he had been meeting with his attorney. That left no time for cozy dinners or walks in the neighborhood or any of the things courting couples usually did.
Nowhere was that more evident than in how he avoided spending time alone with her. At balls he only asked her to partner him in country dances. No waltzes forher,to be sure. That might put them too close.
Maman had approved, of course. He was behaving as an earl—and a gentleman—was supposed to behave. Gisellewantedto approve, but sometimes, when she remembered how sensuously he had kissed her in the park …
You must stop thinking about that!
Lord knew she had done it much too often in the past week. She thought of it at night. She thought of it in the day. She tried to remember each touch of his hand, each caress of his mouth and tongue, the sweet, shocking pressure of his palm against her breast as he kneaded it, and the thrilling way he had thumbed her hard nipple through her gown until she thought she might melt into—
“Are you well, my dear?” Maman asked now, jerking her from her wicked thoughts and back to the market they were walking in. “Your face is flushed.”