Forbidden Susan Johnson (english love story books txt) 📖

folded the paper, placing it in his vest pocket as if the embodiment and spirit of his child were already under his protection.

What had seemed important moments ago suddenly lost its relevancy. Whether the Worths would or wouldn't support him was no longer of overriding importance. He and Daisy were going to have a child!

The immediacy of that miracle made even Isabelle's excruciating meanness disappear in the tidal wave of joy suffusing his soul. He surveyed the men seated around the table, pausing for a small moment as if gathering their images into his memory. "Daisy and I are having a child," he said, elation shining from his eyes, his smile stunning even the lawyers who dealt in drama with its exultation. "I'll be leaving Paris tomorrow."

Responses erupted around the table, congratulations first, polite and genuine, followed closely by consternation and dismay as each man protested the impossibility of carrying on without the Duc. He answered each man individually, kindly, at whatever length was required, but he wouldn't be moved.

He was leaving the following day.

All he could think of was Daisy and their baby. The past weeks without her had been ones of deprivation and loneliness. Without her, Paris was empty… his apartments devoid of life.

He marveled how fate could take a hand so strikingly, how a single evening at Adelaide's could change his wayward life.

"What of the divorce?" Bourges finally said, quietly, after the last of the other men had left and they sat alone over brandy at the large table strewn with the debris of their discussions.

"Continue the appeals, of course… to the last petition and magistrate." Etienne raked his fingers through his dark hair with familiar exasperation when reminded of the avenues already closed to them. Picking up his glass again, he drank it down, his frustration plain. "Dammit," he said, signaling Bourges to slide the bottle closer, "my divorce is even more urgent now with a child on the way. And the Worths' attorneys are just another legal maneuver that's going to mean more delay."

"I think we'll have something soon. I had a man hired on at the Duchesse's—as a footman. Servants are apprehensive answering questions put to them by detectives. I don't blame them. Like the Worths on a lesser scale, they're concerned with their livelihood. Charbeau is competent."

"I want my child legitimate."

There was nothing to say to the Duc's emotional need, but ever the practical attorney, Bourges pointed out the optional legalities. "The child can still be named a legal heir and legitimized later. Once the divorce is accomplished."

Etienne smiled at Felicien's kindness. "Isabelle's been more unwieldy than you thought. I should have known, I suppose, after observing her so long."

"There's no question of defeat," Bourges crisply replied. "I can assure you." Felicien Bourges had never lost a fight and he didn't intend the Duchesse de Vec to be his first defeat. Beyond the issue of failure, in itself unthinkable to the peasant boy who had risen so far, was the matter of Isabelle's contempt. He would see her deprived of her duchesse's coronet if it took him another ten years.

Ever since receiving Daisy's telegram, Etienne had been considering the necessity, the possible usefulness, of a visit to Isabelle. He wished to make one last attempt at a settlement before leaving and he contemplated getting down on his knees and begging her as a last alternative. In the extremity of his need, pride was suddenly incidental, only the future of his child mattered. "I think I'll stop by Isabelle's before I go," he declared, gazing at the liquor in his glass.

Aware the Duc hadn't spoken to his wife at any length since leaving his home months before, Bourges understood the impulse driving him. "Would you like me to come along?"

The Duc looked at him for a moment over his half-empty glass before saying, "No." He grinned suddenly. "I'd rather not have an audience when I'm humiliating myself."

"Let me arrange for Charbeau to be in attendance… if possible. I can contact him before you arrive."

"A witness?"

"Just in case." Bourges always considered the myriad possibilities.

Etienne looked at the time. Nearly three. He'd hoped to see Isabelle before tea in case she'd be entertaining… or out. "I'll have to see her before four-thirty. Is that enough time to contact your man?"

"I'll send a messenger immediately," Bourges said, rising. A moment later, after vigorously cranking the handle on the Duc's phone, his call was put through.

Etienne listened with half-interest to the instructions Bourges was giving to one of the aides in his office, reflecting instead on his opening remarks to Isabelle. Entreaty would be best accompanied by something more to sweeten the proposition. Isabelle lacked most Christian virtues, including charity.

"Done," Bourges declared, returning to the table. "Charbeau will be informed of your imminent arrival."

"There's still time for a drink," the Duc said, reaching for the bell-pull to have his carriage brought around. "You can wish me good fortune. Or more appropriately, considering it's Isabelle I'm seeing," he added with a smile, "you can more realistically offer me condolences in advance for a wasted trip."

Was he asking so much, he wearily thought, sprawled in his carriage as his driver took him through the rain-wet streets to the palace that had been home to the de Vecs for five centuries. Was his freedom from a marriage devoid of everything but malice such an enormous favor in the eyes of the fates? Had he no right to happiness like others on this planet?

In desperation he was traveling to see a woman who had shown him no compassion or charity in two decades to ask of her a boon. It was an outrageous act of hope.

Many of the old de Vec retainers had gone with the Duc when he'd set up separate quarters at his apartment, and Isabelle's new butler didn't recognize him until he announced his name.

The new majordomo didn't know whether Madame le Duchesse was in, he told Etienne, but if the Duc would wait in