Desmond was completely content with staying in his warm bed, safe from the chilly room, and sleeping the afternoon away but his butler refused to let him do any such thing. He knocked loudly on the door before announcing himself and entering. Desmond sat up to glare at the old man before sighing and letting his head hit the pillow again.
"Why did I ever let Jean-Luc talk me into this?" he wondered aloud as he stared at the ceiling.
"Because he is your friend, my lord," Edgar said simply as a small smile curved his lips, "and I think you mean to impress someone."
"Who?" Desmond asked. "The only people who will be there are those who hate me, including Claude! On second thought, scratch that, they don't hate me they hate the fact that I'm Irish!"
"I meant a certain young lady," Edgar replied motioning towards Genevieve's room. Desmond threw a pillow at him which he caught with ease and set it down on top of the trunk. "Don't worry, my lord. She is already awake and downstairs with Isabel, getting ready for the party tonight, as should you. She was surprised she didn't wake you when she left her room. She said, and I quote, you were 'sleeping like a rock'." This made Desmond smile. At least his wife had a sense of humor, now if only he could make her hate him less.
"Try being kind to her, sir," Edgar said and Desmond sat bolt upright. "Pardon me sir, but being your loyal servant for this long has made you incredibly easy to read. Try doing something nice for her, she might open up to you." Desmond pursed his lips thoughtfully before getting out of bed and throwing on a robe and heading for the door. "Where are you going?"
"To see my wife," Desmond replied as he walked out the door. He headed down the tower stairs towards the room Genevieve had used to ready herself for their wedding. He found Isabel waiting outside the door and notice she looked surprised when she saw him. "Where is she?"
"She asked me to wait out her while she bathed," Isabel explained. "She said she wanted some time alone." Desmond put a finger to his lips as he turned the handle on the door and Isabel nodded. He entered the room quietly and found her sitting in a tub by the fireplace but could not see her past the privacy screen. It was probably better that way. As shy as his wife seemed to be she would probably never forgive him for staring at her. He closed the door behind him and it made a loud click.
"I'm almost done, Isabel," Genevieve said quietly. "I just need one more minute."
"Good, that's all I need too," Desmond said as he sat down on the floor with his back to the screen. He heard water splash around in the tub and knew he had startled her.
"Have you ever heard of privacy?" she hissed.
"It's not like I can see you," he replied.
"What do you want?" Genevieve said curtly.
"I wanted to say I'm sorry I've been such a cruel husband," he said honestly. "You don't deserve anything I've put you through and I'm going to make it up to you." Genevieve was quiet for a moment and Desmond thought his effort was all for naught.
"I don't need anything," she replied but softened her voice and added, "Just try to be somewhat of a gentleman tonight." Desmond laughed.
"I will try," he promised but still felt it wasn't enough. He suddenly had an idea that made perfect sense but he would have to work quickly if he was to get it done. "I have to leave but I'll be back in time to walk into the ballroom with you."
"I can't wait," Genevieve said dryly as Desmond left the room.
* * *
Genevieve swore she would never understand men as long as she lived. One minute they hated you and the next they wanted you to forgive them for everything they had done. Giovanni had had a bit of a temper but had never been so indecisive and Crispin had always been nice to everyone. So what was Desmond's problem? She decided to just let the issue go with the conclusion that she really would never understand the opposite sex and concentrated on the celebration that evening. Normally, when getting ready, she would have welcomed any help from Isabel but if she were to let Isabel see the bruise on her chest there was no lie Isabel would believe.
Genevieve finished washing and stepped out of the tub before grabbing a towel to dry off. When she had a slip on the covered her entire body she opened the door to let Isabel in so she could help her finish dressing and do her hair. Genevieve had never in her life imagined someone else doing her hair for her but she had to admit she liked the time she spent with Isabel. As she was doing her hair Genevieve suddenly had the feeling that she had done this before but that wasn't possible.
"Is something wrong, my lady?" Isabel asked.
"No," Genevieve assured her. "It's just that I've only been married for a few days but I feel as though I've been doing this for forever."
"All ready taken to the lifestyle, no?" Isabel said playfully and Genevieve laughed.
"Maybe you're right," she agreed.
Isabel worked for what felt like hours with Genevieve's hair. It took a long time to dry and then when they finally decided to pin it all up, Isabel had a hard time dealing with the thick locks. Eventually her hair was done and they set to work on getting her dressed. The gown Genevieve had chosen was a lighter blue layer for the shoulders, sleeves and down the back with a sapphire layer underneath that only showed across her breasts and down her front. Genevieve loved this dress but she wasn't so sure how much when Isabel said it required one to wear a corset.
"I'll be as nice as possible," Isabel assured her as she turned around and held onto the mantle above the fireplace. When Genevieve felt she might pass out Isabel announced she was done and helped Genevieve into the gown which fit like a glove. Together, they left the washroom and proceeded towards the ballroom to oversee the last of the preparations. Isabel left, after asking Genevieve permission which completely caught her off guard, to see to the preparations in the kitchen. Stands with about half a dozen candles on them had been placed all around the edge of the room. Two chandeliers hung at equal ends of the room and gave light to the whole room. The chandeliers were so big Genevieve wondered how she had missed them the first time she had come to the ballroom.
Looking around the room she saw servants everywhere and wondered how many servants Desmond actually had, if he even knew. They ranged in age from a young boy who seemed no older than twelve to Edgar who looked about fifty. No one had ever really paid attention to her as she had walked through the busy streets of London. But now that she was a duchess it seemed like she had 'notice me' written on her forehead. Edgar put his right hand over his heart and bowed to her as she approached him.
"Good afternoon, my lady," he said politely. "Is there anything I can do for you?"
"Has my husband returned? I need to talk to him."
"I'm sorry, my lady," he replied. "He told me to not expect him back more than a few minutes before the party." Genevieve looked at the clock.
"It is a few minutes before the party," she said blankly and Edgar smiled.
"I'm sure he'll be here any time now," Edgar said with a small smile. "Is there anything else I can help you with?"
"No," Genevieve told him. "I've just never done this before. I hate to admit it but I'm nervous about being in front of people I don't know." She really was nervous but it wasn't just about the party. She had found a note on her windowsill this morning from the Raven telling her to meet him at the statue again tonight. She wasn't sure how long the party would last and wondered if she could steal away the same way she had the night before. She dismissed Edgar to let him return to work and made her way to where Isabel said she should wait for Desmond so they could enter the ballroom together. She could hear the guests beginning to arrive and enter the ballroom. She stood behind two large doors that would be opened for her and Desmond to walk down the grand staircase but where was her husband?
"I think you might need to start without him, my lady," Isabel said to her a minute before she was supposed to be announced.
"I can't! I have no idea what to do!" Genevieve protested just as she felt someone's strong fingers lace between hers.
"That's why I'm here," he said as he smiled faintly at her. Isabel curtsied and left them alone.
"Nothing like showing up at the last minute," she hissed but Desmond just smiled.
"You'll forgive me," he said confidently.
"Oh really?" Genevieve said skeptically. "Why do you say that?"
"I don't know. Just a feeling."
"What happened to your face?" Genevieve asked with a touch of concern when she noticed the bruise on his left jaw.
"It's nothing."
Two well dressed servants opened the large double doors and Genevieve felt her heart leap into her throat. How many people did Desmond know? There had to be at least one hundred people there or more. Desmond calmly held out his arm and Genevieve looped her arm through his. The walk down the stairs as a man announced their presence and everyone turned to look at them. Genevieve looked out over the sea of unfamiliar faces. She suddenly thought she saw...no, it wasn't possible, she knew no one here among the rich; except for one odd Frenchmen.
"Bonjour, mon ami," Jean-Luc said with a smile before turning to Genevieve. "It is nice to see you as well, Lady La Croix." Genevieve nodded at him and everyone returned to what they were doing as Desmond led Genevieve around followed closely by Jean-Luc. "I told you no one would want to miss meeting your new bride."
"I wasn't concerned with how many people would attend," Desmond told him. "I'm only concerned if he came or not...and I hope it's the latter."
"I haven't seen him yet but I'm not sure if he came or not," Jean-Luc replied with a grimace. Genevieve had no idea who they were talking about but at the moment she didn't care very much. She looked around at the people who surrounded her and found no interest in any of them, except one who caught her eye. A man about her height was standing quite a ways off with his back to her. He was speaking with a few people she didn't recognize but Genevieve was sure she knew the man. She dismissed herself from Desmond and made her way through the crowd of people towards the man. She reached him just as the people he was talking to said their goodbyes and departed. Genevieve stood behind him and knew exactly who it was.
"Crispin."
The man turned around and gave her a brilliant smile.
"Hey Gen," Crispin said. "Or should I call you Lady La Croix?" He managed a short bow and Genevieve laughed before throwing her arms around him and burying her face in his shoulder. He hugged her back and she felt a chuckle vibrate through his chest. "You're going to smear your make-up." Genevieve suddenly felt a cold sense of dread as she looked up at her brother.
"What are you doing here?" she demanded. "You could be thrown in prison or killed or-"
"Let me explain," Crispin cut in. "La Croix asked me to come."
"Excuse me?"
"He said you weren't feeling well and he thought seeing your brother would help," he explained. "He found me this morning walking down the street and told me you needed help. Naturally I thought he had hurt you or put you in harms way so I," he cleared his throat, "punched him." Genevieve simply stared at him, too shocked to speak. "I left a pretty impress mark, if I do say so myself." Genevieve suddenly laughed and covered her mouth to muffle the sound.
"I was wondering what had happened to him," she gasped. "What happened after that?"
"Well, he told me I had every right to knock him unconscious for taking you away but he said he hadn't harmed you, only that you were feeling lonely. He told me when and where to be and that I should come dressed as I did for the wedding."
Genevieve looked over at Desmond and caught his eye. She smiled and mouthed 'thank you'. Desmond smiled faintly and nodded his head as if to say 'you are welcome' before returning to whatever conversation he was engaged in with a group of men. Genevieve turned her attention back to her brother.
"What about Giovanni?"
Crispin grimaced.
"He's not the same man you knew. He's so convinced La Croix is planning something heinous that he can't think straight. He'll disappear for hours and never tell me where he's going or when he'll be back. I didn't tell him I was coming here; I didn't think it would be a good idea for him to be in the same room with La Croix." Genevieve nodded her understanding and couldn't deny how guilty she felt for the heartache she knew Giovanni must be feeling. "I don't want you feeling guilty about any of this. Everyone is doing just fine. We're actually looking into another thief that's been causing a lot of chaos around here. Have you heard of the Raven?"
Genevieve gave him a wide smile.
"I have so much to tell you, Crispin," she whispered. "But not here. When the party is over and it's dark, meet me by the statue of King Charles I. I'll explain everything." Crispin nodded and the part continued with only a few hitches. The first happened when Genevieve accidentally crushed Desmond's toes while they were dancing but she was sure there was no permanent damage. The second was the fact that Claude McFarlane asked for a dance with her. Genevieve wanted to say no but she thought it would look bad and she didn't want to embarrass Desmond after what he had done for her.
"It is an honor to meet you Lady La Croix," Claude said politely. From what she had overheard Desmond saying about him she gathered he was the chief of police in London and had somewhat of a temper towards criminals. But from what she had seen he seemed to be a decent man...or so she thought. "I hope you have a long and happy marriage," he added.
"Thank you sir, I-" Genevieve began but Claude cut her off.
"Provided your husband keeps himself out of trouble," he said. Genevieve felt her heart skip a beat but kept calm as they dance continued. She was convinced Desmond was up to something but she didn't want to believe it was anything illegal.
"I'm sorry, sir," she said innocently, "I'm not quite sure what you mean."
"Don't play the innocent, Genevieve," Claude replied dangerously as his grip tightening painfully around her hand, making Genevieve wince. "I know who you were before you married La Croix and I'm not so convinced that he has turned you fully away from your old life. Just know that I'm watching you."
"May I cut in?" a familiar voice asked. Claude glared at Jean-Luc but the overly confident man never flinched. He let go of Genevieve and practically stormed off and she breathed a sigh of relief. Jean-Luc took her hand gently as the dance continued. "You seemed to be in a bit of a bind. I felt honor bound to help." Genevieve smiled.
"You are very gracious, my lord," she said. "What were saying to my husband?"
"We were deciding who would get the privilege of saving you from Claude," he replied. "I won.
"Lord Lefevre," Genevieve began but he cut her off.
"Please, Genevieve, call me Jean-Luc," he said.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Anything."
"What are you and my husband up to? I know you weren't really discussing such trivial things as to who would dance with me."
Jean-Luc's smile fell almost instantly as he studied her face. A small smile curved his lips as he tried to regain his composure.
"There is nothing going on, my lady," he assured her but Genevieve held his hand a little more tightly.
"Jean-Luc please, I have to know," she pleaded but the dance ended and she was out of time. Jean-Luc gently brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear before letting go of her.
"There is nothing to be frightened about, Genevieve," he whispered to her. "I'll keep your husband under control. Please don't ask about this again." He left her alone in the middle of the room surrounded by strangers. She looked around for Crispin and finally found him on the edge of the room speaking with an older man. She was stunned when she realized it was the same man Desmond had been talking to in his office the night she met the Raven. She watched them for a few moments and noticed how surprised Crispin was to see the man. They spoke for only a minute more before embracing and then the man left. Genevieve hurried over to her brother who looked a little bewildered.
"Who was that?" she asked.
"Hmm?" he said absentmindedly. "Oh, no one, just someone I met here."
"You can't lie to your sister, Crispin," Genevieve warned him. "You're in a complete daze over whatever he said to you. I know he's been talking to Desmond about something...ominous. Did he threaten you?"
"What? No!" Crispin stammered. "Don't be stupid." But Genevieve was already heading for the door even as Crispin called after her. She walked out into the hall and spotted the man only a few feet away. She caught up to him and gently put her hand on his upper arm. He turned and smiled at her like he was greeting an old friend. Genevieve suddenly had the feeling that this wasn't the first time she had seen this man. She released his arm and took a hesitant step away from him.
"Have we met?" she asked timidly. The man looked like he wanted to say something important but didn't know how.
"I can't say we have," he replied with a thick Italian accent. He took her hand and kissed it. "But it is an honor to finally meet you, my lady. I had heard Desmond had taken a beautiful woman as his wife but I can see that their comments couldn't compare with seeing you in person." Genevieve felt her face turn bright red but couldn't turn away from the man. She smiled at him as something dawned on her.
"I can see why you and my husband are friends," she said smoothly. "You both seemed to think giving a woman a few compliments will make her forget what she was interrogating him for. I know I've seen you somewhere before and that you definitely know me or you wouldn't have been so concerned about Desmond marrying me."
The man's eyebrows lifted in surprise but then he smiled at her once more.
"You are definitely your father's daughter," he commented. "Polite, but with plenty of fire in your soul."
"You know my father?" Genevieve gasped. "How? Where is he?" The man gave her a small sad smile before kissing her on the head.
"That would be telling, my dear nipote," he said gently. Genevieve didn't know why but she suddenly felt very light headed and swayed slightly.
"I know that word," she said. "I've heard it before." Her legs collapsed under her but the man caught her easily around the waist. Genevieve realized he was much stronger than he appeared as he lifted her into his arms. She heard Desmond call her name but was suddenly too tired to lift her head away from the man's shoulder.
"What happened?" Desmond asked worriedly.
"She'll be fine," the man assured her. "Just too much excitement in one afternoon."
"Stephan," Desmond said carefully as Genevieve drifted into oblivion. "What did you say to her? What have you told her?"