Read Fairchild's Lady (Culper Ring Series) for Free Online Page B

court.
    Certainly not the duc.
    Isaac’s hands slid around her waist before she was even aware of the horses having stopped. But his touch brought her back to the present, and she smiled into his eyes as he helped her down.
    “I will convince her,” she swore in a low murmur when her feet touched the dirt. “Though it may take a few days.”
    One corner of his mouth pulled up, and one hand lifted from her waist and moved as if to smooth back a curl that had come loose, though he halted before actually touching the lock. “I expected you would be the more difficult one to convince.”
    She only smiled and moved to walk past him, careful to time her words just as she was nearest him on her way by. “Will you meet me tonight?” The need to speak with him more, to be with him again without pretense, burned so hot it set an ache in her chest.
    Never in her life had she planned a tryst with a man, even an innocent one. And with any other man, she wouldn’t dare, lest he think it an invitation for more than intended. But Isaac was not any other man, and she knew he would not make such assumptions. Especially given the impossibility of speaking with him frankly through normal means.
    He looked long into her eyes, nodded, and mouthed the word, “Midnight.”
    No need to specify where.
    All her skill at stoicism was required to keep from smiling as she swept by and joined her mother, though Mère must have seen something in her face, given the weary sigh that accompanied her probing gaze.
    “Julienne, take care as to why you are inclined to the decision you are. Whether it is because you believe his warning, because you wish an acquaintance with family…or if it is something far more foolish swaying you.” Mère linked their arms together and leaned in close. “Please, ma fille . Do not set your heart in that direction. It will only end in disappointment. You are still the daughter of a comte. You must not marry an impoverished officer.”
    An invisible hand took hold of Julienne’s throat. Always, always she was bound by what she must do. When would she ever be able to do what her heart said was right? Fearing tears would choke her if she opened her mouth, she made no reply.
    She was glad she hadn’t given them reign when a familiar contingent approached, their coats all the height of fashion, their postures all confident and sure. Their figures ranged from too-thin to too-round, gangly to stocky.
    And in their center strode the duc de Remi. Though no more than average in height or build, there was no doubt he was the most powerful of his company. He wore his authority as one would a cloak, visibly yet absently.
    Julienne’s fingers curled into her palm, and her nails bit her flesh in an attempt to keep the churning of her stomach at bay. He was a handsome man, if every bit as old as her mother. Clever, if without compassion. The other young women all whispered about how well they would receive his attention—and how they failed to understand why he had set his sights on Julienne.
    He set his sights on her anew now, a smile possessing his lips that would have sent tingles through her had it come from Isaac. But from Remi, it lit a fuse of fear. Still, she gave him the smile she always did, warm but a bit reserved. Mystery, Mère had always said. Nothing drew a man like mystery.
    Obviously, she knew of what she spoke. Even Isaac had first been drawn to Julienne when she was a nameless woman behind a mask, had he not? But oh, how tired she was of never being who she was. How she wondered, these days, if there was anything left of the girl she had been when she first came to Versailles.
    As the duc’s group joined them, Julienne held out her hand as expected, and Remi took the fingers Isaac had so recently held and pressed his lips to them. She barely repressed a shudder. “ Bon matin , duc.”
    “ Ma chérie .” He lowered her hand but held it tightly—too tightly. “You had a pleasant ride, I trust?”
    Was that