The Price of Pleasure by Mason Connie

Author:Mason, Connie [Mason, Connie]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Dorchester Publisher
Published: 2011-08-02T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Fleur made her curtsy to the dowager. “I’m pleased to meet you, my lady.”

“No,” the old lady insisted, “it is I who am glad to meet you. You are the reason my grandson is alive. I understand you are a widow. Please accept my condolences. Were you married long?”

“Five years, my lady.”

“Five years! You must have been very young when you wed.”

“I was seventeen. I lived in France for the entire five years I was wed to Pierre.”

“Do you have children, Lady Fleur?”

“Pierre and I were not blessed with children.”

The gleam that had entered the dowager’s eyes when she’d first met Fleur died. Reed knew exactly what Grandmamma was thinking: Once Fleur admitted to not having conceived in all the years of her marriage, she was no longer a possible mate for her grandson.

“What are your plans? Obviously you cannot remain in Reed’s quarters if you wish to preserve your reputation.”

“Lisette and I intend to repair to the country as soon as I hear from my Aunt Charlotte. Until that time, an inn will suffice.”

Reed heaved a sigh when Grandmamma didn’t pursue the subject of Fleur’s living arrangements. Turning to him, the old lady said, “I’ve decided to hold a ball in your honor a week from Saturday next. The invitations will go out to all my friends with marriageable daughters.”

Before Reed could reply, the dowager took Fleur’s hands in both of hers and said, “Because you and Lisette are dear to my heart, you are both welcome. I’ll invite some eligible widowers with children for you to look over. You are still young; some man would be pleased to have you for a wife.”

“Grandmamma, please,” Reed chided, mortified by his grandmother’s attempt at matchmaking. “For one thing, I’m not ready yet to settle down. I just escaped hell and need time to work it out of my system. Trust me, I’m not husband material right now. Hold off on the ball until a later date.”

The dowager frowned, concern etching her wrinkled features. “Is there something you aren’t telling me that I should know about your incarceration, Reed?”

“No, Grandmamma,” Reed denied. “As you can see, I am fit as a fiddle. Let’s just say I’m not in the proper frame of mind for marriage. Can we change the subject?”

“I understand, and will postpone the ball if you insist, but don’t put me off too long.” She rose with the help of her cane.

“By the way, a distant relative from the French branch of the family called on me recently. Gallard Duvall informed me that he is now living in London. I can’t say I was impressed with the boy.” Grandmamma sniffed.

“Actually,” she confided, “I had him investigated and learned his claim is true. If you fail to produce an heir, Duvall is the next in line to inherit. Heaven preserve us if he ultimately ends up with the earldom. That branch of our family has never been favored by Society. Your father would turn in his grave if a distant cousin of his, and a Frenchman at that, ended up with the title and estate.

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