Forbidden by Susan Johnson (best feel good books txt) 📗

Walking through the two reception rooms on his way to Felicien's office, the Duc smiled in greeting to all the employees, his smile turning into a wide grin by the time he waved Bourges's young assistant aside and pushed open the door to the office himself.

"You're looking at an extremely happy man, a jubilant, exhilarated man… a man who once again believes in the concept of justice." Etienne threw open his arms expansively to include the world in his felicitous embrace.

"A miracle of some sort has obviously occurred," Bourges said, an answering smile on his face. In shirtsleeves at the end of the day, he pushed his rolled sleeves up a fraction, crossed his arms behind his head, and leaning back in his chair, added, "Give me the glorious details."

"First, Letheve will be here within the hour. With his hat in hand, I presume." Taking hold of a chair, Etienne pulled an early Chippendale armchair closer to Felicien's desk. "As for details, they are indeed glorious, but also slightly disreputable and definitely iniquitous." The Duc's smile was jovial.

"I assume we aren't talking about a decision over tea after these past months of dealing with the Duchesse's malevolent concept of justice."

"There may have been tea," the Duc said with feigned recall. "Although their hunger was of another sort."

"They? My imagination runs—"

"Wild is the appropriate word, Felicien. Definitely. And 'they' were my wife Isabelle, who didn't believe in divorce until very recently, and her friend from the gallery showing of the other night. I can see by your face, you anticipate my recital."

"In flagrante delicto."

"Precisely."

Ever the lawyer, Felicien said, "Was Charbeau a witness?"

"Eventually. Opportunely, as it were, at the consummation."

Even Bourges was slightly shocked and he'd seen a great deal in his climb from the gutters. He was aware the variety of vice didn't differ so much from class to class, only manifesting itself in more luxurious surroundings at the top. But the Duchesse de Vec was a haughty, arrogant women who somehow gave the illusion of never completely losing her self-control. "You saw it all?"

"Every perverse urgency."

"You could have killed them both."

"I know. I told her that."

Bourges arched his dark brows slightly. "Maybe you were too kind."

"The thought crossed my mind briefly. But that kind of act is performed in passion and passion isn't an emotion I can conjure up with Isabelle."

"It's also done in cold calculation."

"It would save a great deal of money, wouldn't it? But, Lord, you have to hate more than I do. Hell, when I saw them there on that hideous pink satin sofa Isabelle has had recovered so many times—and now I know why—hate was the furthest thing from my mind. My spirits soared higher than the snowcapped heights of the Himalayas. Freedom! I thought. Glorious freedom!"

"How little do you want to leave her?"

Etienne's mouth curved into a smile. "What a difference. I went as a supplicant, quite literally willing to beg. Did her luck finally run out or is there divine justice after all?"

"I think you'd never looked before," Bourges quietly replied.

"You mean, had I, I would have discovered this long ago."

"Very long ago, and I think, too, you were hoping to settle the divorce like a gentleman."

"And you knew better."

"I've seen so many. One learns."

"What do you suggest?"

"Return her dower portion; no more is legally required."

"I'd like my home back. I realized today the host of memories in the Hôtel de Vec are important to me. I can give her sufficient funds to build or buy another residence."

"You needn't be generous."

Etienne shrugged. In his own immense happiness, he was beyond vindictiveness. "I can afford it… and settle a sum on her for maintenance."

"With some stipulations. To protect you and Daisy from any possible malice."

"You define those then. I understand the wisdom in your suggestion, but I don't feel inclined to deal with every eventuality. I'm benevolent in victory and feel ashamed in a strange way for my own enormous happiness… for Daisy and our child and my future. Surely Isabelle's diversions with the younger sons of aristocrats who've bought a bishopry for their family crest can't be entirely satisfying… over time. And I'm speaking as a reformed devotee of my own particular style of amusement."

"Ah, love," Felicien softly said, aware of the enormous changes he'd witnessed in the Duc de Vec from the man who'd first come into his office, self-contained, aloof, operating within the circumspect perimeters of the privileged class he'd been born into. He was transformed.

"I recommend it," Etienne said simply.

"Are you still leaving tomorrow?" Bourges asked, knowing love was motivating the Duc's precipitous departure.

"Yes. You'll have to take complete charge. Telegram your questions and I'll respond promptly. Justin will be in Paris for a few weeks more before he leaves for the East. He is my factor in my absence for anything you might require signed."

"What should be done with the Worths' proposal?"

"Pay them something for their willingness to aid me. They can name their price."

"And what of the Amsterdam venture?"

"I only want my money back… what it cost me to buy Verlaine and Marveil out. I'm benign to them as well. Negotiate something after they've bought into the worthless mines. They should be pleased to have gotten off so lightly."

"No revenge?"

"Daisy and I are having a child," he said. "Daisy and I are going to be married once this divorce is processed. Revenge has dropped very low on my list of priorities."

"A small warning in your paradise of happiness."

The Duc's green eyes met his swiftly across the muted light of the evening-shrouded room.

"Even with capitulation, the actual court procedures in divorce will take some months."

"How many months?" Etienne was counting the time until his child would be born.

"Four, maybe five, possibly six."

"Make it four."

"I'll do everything I can."

"I have to see Justin yet, and Georges. Both need funds for their expedition." The Duc rose and put out his hand to Bourges. "Thank you in advance and for all you've done. We'll send you a wedding invitation."