The Promise in a Kiss

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Book: The Promise in a Kiss Read Free
Author: Stephanie Laurens
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problem .”
    A problem indeed, one fraught with risk. Fabien did not want to choose, to commit her fortune and by inference his support to any of the four. Favor one and the other three would slit his throat at the first opportunity. Metaphorically, definitely; possibly literally. All that, she’d understood; the observation that Fabien’s manipulative schemes had come home to roost with a vengeance she had kept to herself.
    â€œIt is no longer an option to approve an alliance for you inside France, yet the pressure to bestow your hand will only increase.” Fabien had eyed her thoughtfully, then continued in his silken purr, “I am therefore of a mind to leave this now-unsatisfactory arena and move to potentially more productive fields.”
    She’d blinked at him. He’d smiled, more to himself than her.
    â€œIn these troubling times it would, I feel, be in the best interests of the family to develop stronger connections with our distant relatives across the Channel.”
    â€œYou wish me to marry an émigré?” She’d been shocked. Émigrés were generally of low social standing, those with no estates.
    A frown had flitted through Fabien’s eyes. “No. I meant that if you were to attract the attentions of an English nobleman, one of station and estates equal to your own, it would provide not only a solution to our present dilemma but also a valuable connection against the uncertain future.”
    She’d continued to stare, stunned, surprised, her mind racing.
    Misinterpreting her silence, Fabien had drawled, “Pray recall that the English nobility is largely if not exclusively composed of families descended from William. You might be forced to learn their ghastly language, but all of any consequence speak French and ape our ways. It would not be so uncivilized as to be insupportable.”
    â€œI already know the language.” It had been all she could think of to say, as a vista she’d never thought to see had opened before her. Escape. Freedom .
    Seven years of dealing with Fabien had taught her well. She had held her excitement in, kept it from her expression, her eyes. She’d refocused on him. “You are saying you wish me to go to London and seek an alliance with an Englishman?”
    â€œNot any Englishman—one of station and estates at least equal to your own. In their terms, an earl, marquess, or duke, with considerable wealth. I need hardly remind you of your worth.”
    All her life she’d never been allowed to forget that. She’d frowned at Fabien, letting him believe it was because she didn’t wish to go to England and consort with the English, while she’d assembled her plan. There’d been one very large hurdle in her path. She’d let disillusionment and disgruntlement color her face, her voice. “So I go to London and glide about their salons, being oh-so-nice to the English milords, and then what? You decide you do not after all wish me to marry this one. And then later, maybe not that one, either.”
    She’d given a dismissive humph, folded her arms and looked away. “There is no point. I would rather go home to Cameralle.”
    She hadn’t dared peek to see how Fabien responded to her performance, yet she’d felt his dark gaze on her, intent as always.
    After a long moment, to her considerable surprise, he had laughed. “Very well. I will give you a letter. A declaration.” He had sat at his desk, drawn forth a piece of parchment, then picked up his pen. He spoke as he wrote. “I hereby confirm that as your legal guardian I agree to your marrying a member of the English nobility of station equal to your own, of estates more extensive than your own, and with income greater than your own.”
    She’d watched him sign and hadn’t been able to believe her luck. He’d sanded the paper, then rolled it and held it out to her; she’d managed not to

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