The Marquis's New Clothes (Fiery Tales Book 7) Page 10

  “Monsieur le Marquis, the Lieutenant General of Police has sent us. He felt Madame de Gremont”—the man nodded toward her—“would be here. We’re to escort her back to her apartments.”

  Aimee rose. Her stomach dropped. “Oh? Well, you may tell your superior that I am busy at the moment and whatever he wants will have to wait.” Her heart pounded in her throat. Her mind spun. Her thoughts were of Louise.

  Where was her cousin? What did Renault want?

  Meeting Adam’s gaze, she found once again he’d schooled his expression. She couldn’t tell if he had something to do with the presence of these men or not.

  “I’m afraid you don’t have a choice, madame. It’s an order,” the young lieutenant said.

  Fear iced through her body.

  She glanced at Adam again. He said nothing. Did nothing.

  He didn’t believe her. Anything she’d said. No doubt including that she loved him.

  How could she blame him?

  Without further ado, but with shaky legs Aimee followed the three men sent for her. Afraid. And heartbroken.

  *****

  Standing before the door to her apartments, Aimee watched as one of the men opened it for her and asked her to step inside.

  Her stomach tightened when she saw Louise in her antechamber, seated on a chair and weeping into her hands. Renault stood over her.

  His usual cold glare was fixed on Aimee.

  “Well, welcome, Madame de Gremont,” the vermin said.

  “What are you doing in my private apartments?” She managed to utter the question without her voice quavering.

  “Let’s not play any more games, madame. My ring is missing. And your cousin has confessed to stealing it.”

  Louise looked so utterly defeated, Aimee’s heart went out to her. Crossing the room, Aimee sat down beside her and put an arm around her cousin. Louise immediately turned into her shoulder and wept some more.

  “Your cousin says you are not involved in her thievery,” Renault said. “That she acted alone. But I don’t believe her.”

  It was Aimee’s turn to glare. “She knows where the ring is. It can easily be retrieved and returned to you. There’s been no harm done. You need not torment her this way!”

  “I gave her proper warning of the consequences. She chose not to heed me. As usual.” He threw a hateful glance at Louise. “I believe a Lettre de Cachet is not out of order here. Two, in fact, one for her and one for you.”

  That shot Louise to her feet. “Aimee did not steal the ring. I acted alone!”

  “Yes, words from your mouth are ever so believable,” Renault replied dryly. “I’ll have the orders signed by the King in the morning.” With that he turned and left, his men following him out. Leaving Aimee and Louise alone.

  “I hate you!” Louise screamed at the closed door.

  Aimee rose. “Louise, that’s hardly helpful.”

  “I don’t care. I do hate him. I can’t believe I ever loved him. He isn’t half the man Robert is!” Louise dropped onto the chair again, her face falling into her open palms. She cried anew. “I finally meet a decent man, one that’s attentive and interested, and now I’m going to prison,” Louise wailed.

  Aimee moved to the door and opened it a crack. Just as she suspected. The three men were in the corridor, guarding them. She closed the door and slumped against it.

  Aimee thought she, too, had finally met a decent man that was attentive and interested. Thanks to her multitude of errors and deceptions, his interest had waned. And she couldn’t blame him for how he felt. She’d sufficiently earned his disdain and tainted their experience together. Sorrow surged inside her chest. She wrestled it back as best she could. Unlike Louise, she couldn’t allow herself to succumb to the sadness.

  Right now she needed to think of a way to untangle them from this mess.

  She needed a miracle. Or three.

  *****

  At dawn there was a knock at the door. Louise started awake from a light sleep, while Aimee simply rose from her chair, gripped by trepidation. They had spent the night in the antechamber, too unnerved to retire to bed. Louise had drifted in and out of sleep. Exhausted, her muscles taut, Aimee had been up the entire time. It was now morning and she still hadn’t come up with a viable plan to escape the trouble they were in.

  Aimee cleared her throat. “Come in,” she said, without glancing at Louise, knowing she’d see fear in her cousin’s eyes.

  The young lieutenant from the night before stepped into her antechamber, offering a bow and brief greeting to both women. “Monsieur de Saud wishes to advise you both that you are free to leave your chambers. There will be no Lettre de Cachet drawn up against either of you.”

  Louise gasped, her mouth falling agape.

  Aimee was stalk still. She couldn’t believe her ears. “Why the change?”

  “I don’t know, madame. All I can say is that the Lieutenant General of Police had a discussion with the Marquis de Nattes before changing his decision. Perhaps you should speak to him?”

  Adam spoke to Renault and got him to change his mind?

  A surge of hope and a spurt of joy jolted her forward. She bolted from the room and raced out of her outbuilding, across the grounds all the way to the outbuilding where Adam’s apartments were located.

  By the time she reached his chambers, she was flushed and out of breath. Not bothering to knock, she burst into his antechamber. Finding it empty, she rushed through his bedchamber—also vacant—to his private cabinet room. There she heard a splash. Without a moment’s hesitation, she ran into the salle de bain and came to an abrupt halt when she found the Marquis de Nattes in his large copper tub.

  Very naked.

  Magnificent to behold.

  She froze, her gaze sweeping over his stunning form, the sight of him inspiring an instant longing in her body and heart.

  Adam fought to keep a straight face. Her expression was as amusing as it was arousing. “Good morning,” he said.

  “Good—Good morning …”

  He lifted a brow. “Is there something I can do for you?”

  She was softly panting, as though she’d raced all the way to his rooms. She dragged her gaze from his body up to his face, her blush turning her pink cheeks a darker hue—clearly realizing she’d been openly ogling him.

  He sat up straighter, his chest rising out of the water.

  “Oh, my,” he heard her say softly, before she tore her gaze from his body once more and dropped it to an errant thread on her gown, plucking at it nervously. “Adam … I came to thank you for what you did. Whatever you said to Renault spared Louise and me an indefinite incarceration. I cannot express the depth of my gratitude.”

  Looking fatigued from a night of little sleep, her hair mussed, and her gown crinkled, she was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. “You’re welcome.”

  Still fidgeting with the thread, she said, “That’s not all. I know you don’t believe me, but I wish to say it again—from the heart—” She met his gaze. “I never ever once gave myself to you without desire as my motivation. It wasn’t because of the ring. It was because I wanted you. I’m sorry that I lied and deceived you. I was in a difficult situation and”—she shook her head, self-disgust etched on her lovely features—“I made a mess of it all … including the ridiculous way I told you I loved you. It was … is the truth, whether you wish to believe me or not. I do love you. Very much.”

  “I know.”

  Her eyes widened. “Pardon?”

  “I said, I know. I know your affections are sincere.”

  “You believe me then?” she asked, incredulous.

  “I believe you. When you told me you loved me in front of the King’s apartments, you never tried to search my pockets as before. It was a pure utterance from the heart.”

  A smile lit up her face. “No, I never did! That’s very true!” Tears glistened in her eyes.

  “Come here, Aimee.”

  She approached, stopping beside the
tub. Taking her hand, he pulled her down for a kiss. As she bent forward, her eager mouth met his. Adam grasped her shoulders and yanked her closer, purposely knocking her off balance and into the tub. She dropped in with a yelp and a splash.

  Holding her tightly against his side, he cupped her cheek and gave her a deep, soul-quenching kiss, halting any words. Soft and languorous, he kissed her until her body yielded, and her arms encircled him, no longer caring that she was in a tub full of water, fully clothed.

  He broke the kiss and grazed his lips along her jaw to her ear. “I know Marc hurt you deeply. But I am not Marc. You can trust me. I will never hurt you the way he did. I would never betray you the way he betrayed you. Your heart is safe with me. I will never treat you the way he treated you.”

  She pulled back to look in his eyes. Hers glistened with fresh tears. And love. And something he valued just as much—her trust. Too emotional to speak, she simply nodded, her small gesture telling him that she believed in the sincerity of his words.

  And he had more to say. An admission he wanted her to hear. “There may have been women in my past, but the bulk of them have been in the last six years.” He stroked her soft cheek with his knuckles. “I’ve spent more than half a decade looking for a woman who’ll make me stop wanting you … I never found her. And I will no longer search. I want you and no other.”

  Tears of joy spilled from her golden-colored eyes. “I want no other, only you, Adam,” she said. Then she kissed him. The sweetest, most heartfelt kiss he’d ever had. And he returned her kiss, until she grew hungrier, her kisses more urgent.

  “I know what you need,” he murmured against her mouth.

  Her hand slid down his chest, moving ever lower to his stiff prick. “What is it I need?” He heard the teasing in her tone. He caught her wrist, halting her eager hand. There was one more thing he wanted to say, without those delicious distractions.

  Lightly he bit her earlobe. “New clothes.”

  She lifted her head. Her delicate brows drew together. “New clothes?”

  “A new wardrobe, only the finest fabrics, for the Marquise de Nattes.”

  “The Marquise de Nattes? Me?” she asked, so adorably incredulous.

  He grinned. “Yes. You. I told Sard he wasn’t going to imprison my future wife. Or her errant cousin. I pointed out that asking the King for orders of arrest for his former mistress would make him look weak. It wouldn’t foster much confidence in His Majesty if his Lieutenant General of Police of Paris, a man in charge of maintaining order in a city of one hundred thousand souls, couldn’t control this one woman.”

  She burst into laughter, and he loved the sound of it. Aimee rose up and straddled his hips. His cock jerked with delight, despite the clothing between them. “You’re marvelous,” she said. Cradling his face between her palms, she gave him another of her tender kisses that he felt down to the bottom of his heart.

  “Since we are sharing truths,” he said, opening the front of her sopping wet gown. “I love you, Aimee de Miran. I have been in love with you for so very long, I couldn’t even say when it began. You’re mine. This was meant to be.” He brushed a wet strand off her cheek.

  “I am yours,” she concurred. “Today and forever. I love you …” Her lips met his again, and she anxiously aided in the removal of her wet clothes, tossing each article onto the white marble floor.

  “You’ll stay inside me this time?” she said against his mouth.

  “Wild horses couldn’t stop me,” he promised, slipping his hand behind her head, gently securing her soft lips more firmly to his.

  Abruptly, she pulled away. “Wait, Adam. There is one more truth I want to share.”

  He frowned slightly. “What is it, chérie?”

  “It’s about your justacorps. They are indeed splendid, but to be quite honest …”

  “Yes?”

  “You look your best when you are wearing nothing at all.”

  He laughed and pulled her close. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Then he kissed his golden-eyed beauty with heated intensity and all the love he had for her in his heart.

  Epilogue

  In the city of Paris, there have been many weddings throughout time. But none, they say, was more beautiful or more enchanting than that of Adam de Vey, Marquis de Nattes, to his beloved Aimee.

  What made this union so noteworthy was not the opulence and splendor of the nuptials, for there was definitely that. No, what brought spectators out in droves, lining the streets all the way to Notre Dame, was to see—love.

  “True love” were the two words that rippled through the throng. A noble union not for political gain or advancement of power.

  Just plain love.

  A power unto itself.

  It was said that the bride arrived wearing a magnificent golden-colored gown in a white and gold open carriage pulled by white horses. But it was her smile that people craned their necks to see. The smile of a woman in love. And she didn’t disappoint the masses. Hers was as radiant as the sun.

  In the spring a babe was born. A tiny boy with his father’s dark hair and eyes, their little son adding to the joy in the hearts of the Marquis and Marquise de Nattes.

  Some say there was magic involved in the tale of Adam and Aimee; whispers of a magical ring abounded. Others believed a miracle brought them together at the palace. While many insist it was simply written in the stars.

  Destiny may have caused their paths to cross that summer.

  But it was their love that made their tale romantic, repeated throughout the realm.

  And ensured their happily ever after …

  Historical Tidbit

  Louis XIV’s fountain failure at Versailles was real!

  And drove him crazy.

  King Louis XIV had Versailles built for a number of reasons, one of which was that he hated the Louvre. He felt it was an old-fashioned palace. And the Sun King—a.k.a. the King of Bling—was nothing if not a fashionable man. :) He wanted something grand. Spectacular. New. Something befitting the most powerful monarch of the day—Louis. (Hey, after all, he ruled a kingdom of over 20 million subjects—far greater in population than England at the time). And he hired the best of the best to transform a modest hunting lodge in a country village—where Louis had played and hunted as a boy—into the Palace of Versailles.

  His garden architects were to make the gardens at Versailles just as magnificent as the palace itself. And they didn’t disappoint—with its two hundred thousand trees, an equal amount of flowers, an outdoor ballroom (as mentioned in the final chapter in this story), a grand canal (large enough for Louis to sail small vessels), avenues, groves, cascades and multiple fountains. All of which stretched over 800 hectares of land.

  And Louis thoroughly enjoyed his massive gardens. (He hated the indoors and believed indoor air was unhealthy).

  But the amount of water needed to supply the palace fountains exceeded what was available, even with the rerouting of several rivers in the area and exhausting other neighboring water supplies. Unfortunately, Louis’s fountains couldn’t spray at the same time. And so, they would be turned on one at a time as Louis strolled by and turned off once he left that particular area of the gardens. This water deficiency was unacceptable to the King.

  He wanted a solution. And he asked Royal Academy of Sciences, formed in 1666—(an engineering body that the hero of this story belonged to)—to solve the water problem at his palace. After entertaining a number of different plans and suggestions, the Marly Machine was created—a marvel of the seventeenth century. An engineering feat, really. Built on the Seine, it was a large hydraulic system with two hundred and fifty pumps that pumped vast amounts of water from the river Seine all the way to Versailles. Did it work? Well, it had its hiccups. And some breakdowns. Some of the underground pipes burst. And it was enormously costly to build (about one hundred million in today’s dollars)—with addition costs to maintain. (Maybe if Adam had worked on it, it would have functioned better. winks) In the end, Louis XIV
never had his fountains working at full pressure—as they do today. Monies were eventually diverted for war, and expanding the kingdom.

  As to the Lieutenant General of Police, that too was real! It’s true! The character of Renault de Sard is based entirely on the first Lieutenant General of Police of Paris, Nicolas de la Reynie. The office was inaugurated in 1667. Long before London’s Bow Street Runners (formed in 1749), seventeenth century Paris had a police force whose job it was to protect the public. Good thing. Murders happened in Paris daily. Reynie’s advanced views of law enforcement helped establish the foundation of modern policing. (Watch for Renault de Sard in an upcoming Fiery Tale, THE PRINCESS & THE DIAMONDS. He has an important mission for the hero of that Princess & the Pea inspired tale.).

  The glittering court of Louis XIV wasn’t just salacious and elegant. It was the very time period that the father of fairy tales, Charles Perrault—author of The Tales of Mother Goose—wrote stories that have delighted generations: Sleeping Beauty, Little Red Riding Hood, Puss in Boots, Bluebeard and the ever popular, Cinderella, to name a few.

  I hope you enjoyed your time in the opulent world when fairy tales were born. Please see the end for a delicious excerpt of yet another Fiery Tale!

  Happy reading!

  Lila

  Glossary

  Antechamber—The sitting room in a lord’s or lady’s private apartments (chambers).

  Caleçons—Drawers/underwear.

  Chambers—Another word for private apartments. A lord’s or lady’s chambers consisted of a bedroom, a sitting room, a bathroom, and a cabinet (office). Some chambers were bigger and more elaborate than others. Some cabinets were so large, they were used for private meetings.

  Chère—Dear one. (French endearment for a woman, cher for a man).

  Chérie—Darling or cherished one. (French endearment for a woman, chéri for a man).

  Comte/Comtesse—Count/Countess.

  Dieu—God.

  Duc/Duchesse—Duke/Duchess.

  Hôtel/Château—The upper class and the wealthy bourgeois (middle class) often had a city mansion in Paris (hôtel) in addition to their palatial country estate(s) (château).