Did he have any right tointerfere?
Yes, he did. She had named him as herhusband—he would be that husband, even if it was only for theholiday. Jean Pierre would not abandon Lisette at her time ofneed.
John banged on the top of thecarriage. When the coachman opened the door, John directed him toDanby Castle. With any luck, he should arrive there around the timeElizabeth did.
Elizabeth took a deep breath, steppedfrom the carriage, and stared up at the medieval fortress hergrandfather called home. It was now or never. With one slow foot infront of the other, she approached the door. Would it be too muchto hope no one was around and she could sneak up to her room? Shedid not relish lying to her grandfather, but it was necessary.Uncle Martin needed her back in London by January fifteenth andsaid her return to England was perfect timing.
The door opened before she was ready.A smile broke upon seeing the familiar face of thebutler.
“Lady Elizabeth, welcomehome.” He stood back so that she could enter. Polly followed behindher.
“How are you,Milne?”
“The same as when you left.Thank you for asking.” Milne looked out into the yard and back atElizabeth. “Where is your husband?”
Elizabeth bit her bottom lip, ready totell her first lie. “He could not come, but sends hisbest.”
Milne frowned and tsked. “His Gracewill not be happy.”
“I know.” She cringed atthe confirmation. Hopefully she could see her father and sisterbefore facing Danby.
“Fortunately yourgrandfather is busy at the moment.”
Relief flowed through her at thereprieve.
“Your father and sister arein the solarium.”
“Thank you, Milne. I willgo find them now.”
“I’ll have your thingsdelivered to your room.”
Elizabeth was surprised she still hada room. It had been assigned to her as a child, but since it hadbeen so many years since she had visited the castle she assumed ithad been turned over to someone else. It would be nice to sleep ina familiar bed, under familiar coverings and to look at the viewout of the leaded glass window.
She paused in the doorway, so glad herfather and sister were alone. She wasn’t ready to encounter anyother family members at the moment. Thankfully, it seemed to berather quiet in the castle. Perhaps her cousins had refused hergrandfather’s order and remained home. If so, they had more nervethan she did.
Louisa sat by the fire stitching whilepapa read aloud. It was such a familiar scene, and her heart seizedfor a moment as emotion washed over her. She hadn’t realized howmuch she’d missed these moments until now. It was Louisa whoglanced up. The sewing clattered to the stone floor and she rushedforwards.
“Oh, Elizabeth, I am soglad you have come home.”
She opened her arms to her sister andthe two embraced. Elizabeth took a deep breath. It was good to behome. So very good, indeed.
Her father cleared his throat, and thegirls separated. Elizabeth turned into his arms next. “I was afraidyou couldn’t get away,” he whispered into her hair.
“It was more difficult thanI thought.” She would tell him as much as she dared later. Of thosein the household, only her father knew where she had really beenall this time. Even though he did not like her choices, hesupported her all the same.
“I’ll let Cook know you arehere. She was waiting to make her lemon tarts until you arrived,knowing they are your favorites.” Louisa informed her.
Elizabeth’s mouth watered at thethought.
“Then when I return, youmust tell me everything.” Louisa stepped forwards, hugged her onceagain, and ran from the room.
Her father chuckled before he closedand locked the door. He pulled her to the seat before the fire.“Fill me in before your sister rushes back in.”
As quickly as possible, Elizabeth toldhim of Paris, Jean Pierre (leaving out his real name), their narrowescape, and the need for her to be in London after the first of theyear.
“Jean Pierre could not comewith you?”
Elizabeth glanced at the fire. “He hashis own family he had not seen in several years. I could not askhim to come with me, especially at the holidays.”
Her father nodded before he stood andunlocked the door. “I will go along with whatever you tellDanby.”
“I would not have you lie,Papa.”
His smile was gentle and loving. “Youare my daughter. I will do anything I can to protectyou.”
“Where is Elizabeth, andwhy didn’t she see me first?”
Elizabeth automatically straightenedher spine and stood at her grandfather’s bark. Oh dear, she was notready for this.
“Perhaps she wished to seeher father and sister first.” Her father walked to the sideboardand poured brandy into a glass. “Father?” He held a glass out toDanby.
“Not yet.” Then toElizabeth, “Where is your husband?”
Her grandfather didn’t waste words,nor had he really bothered to greet her.
“He is, well, Grandfather.. .”
“Spit it outchild.”
She could look Napoleon in the eyewithout the slightest tremor, knowing she had searched his desk notan hour earlier, but when faced with her grandfather, all Elizabethwanted to do was run to her room and hide in the closet.
“Elizabeth, this is whereyou have gone.”
She turned to the familiar voice, theFrench accent she knew as well as her own. Where had he come from?“Grandfather, may I introduce Jean Pierre Bouvier. Jean, this is mygrandfather, the Duke of Danby.”
Jean Pierre entered the room andexecuted a deep bow before His Grace. When he straightened, he tookElizabeth’s arm and turned towards her father. “Vicar Whitton. Itis an honor to finally meet you. Elizabeth has told me so much, andI know how much she has missed you these past years.”
“If you knew this, why didit take an order from me before you brought her home?” Danbydemanded.
John stiffened beside her andElizabeth hastened to answer on his behalf. “Jean Pierre would havebrought me home anytime I wished. I didn’t want to take him fromhis business.”
“I’ll take that brandy now,Henry.” Danby walked to the large chair by the fireplace andsettled into the seat. “What business would that be?”
“I make wine.”
“Bah,” Danby dismissed.“You married a common working man, Elizabeth? This is what you
