The Sheik's Son Page 18

  Sophie felt her throat tighten. Sebastian was right. The inspector had tracked her down and he was on her very doorstep. The wolf was at the door.

  ***

  Sophie tried to calm herself as she helped her grandmother with small details several hours before the ball. The flowers needed to be placed on the foyer table. The crystal bowls should be there, not there, she was told. Count the candles for the evening and make sure there were plenty on hand. Again. The mundane details were irritating but helped keep Sophie’s mind off of the inspector. She was perturbed that her father had invited him to the ball that evening, but his reasons seemed appropriate.

  Her father obviously thought it necessary to keep him in check, but Sophie didn’t like the inspector being so close to her family. He was closing in. She felt as though a rough hemp rope had been thrown around her throat and it was tightening. She couldn’t breathe. Why had she not listened to Sebastian? She cursed herself for being a foolish woman.

  ***

  Alain used several men to do the dull legwork that he felt was a bore. Several interesting facts about the Gauvreau family came to light that the researchers relayed to him. There was no governess in the family, as he had first suspected. There was the maid, Marie; a cook; and several other servants inside the home, but no young children. Monsieur Gauvreau had lost his wife in childbirth years before and had only the one daughter, Sophie.

  The only other lady in the house was Jean Pierre’s mother, Eugenie.

  Alain rubbed his hands together in delight. He deduced that in all probability the elusive Jean Inconnu was either Sophie or Eugenie Gauvreau as he doubted very much it was the maid. This brought about an interesting turn of events. A well-bred lady was writing against the monarchy and inciting the people. He had his own reasons for wanting the writer to be Sophie. He was an ambitious man and she might be the key to his success.

  The commissioner had given the order to have the writer taken into custody and interrogated. He would wait and see. Once the writer’s identity was known for certain, he had his own plans of how to handle Sophie Gauvreau.

  ***

  Etienne had done as his friend asked and made a quiet investigation into the background of Inspector Alain Vennard. He was in his late 30s and had no wife or children. There had been a devastating fire years ago in which his mother and father had perished. Though a bit of a drinker, his father had been a well-regarded mason.

  He had a younger brother but they were not on speaking terms and he lived in the country. Vennard seemed very dedicated to his position as inspector and was willing to do whatever was required. He wasn’t known to visit brothels or keep a mistress.

  Sebastian nodded as Etienne verbally relayed what had been discovered.

  “There’s something not quite right here. Do you not see it, my friend?” Sebastian asked him quietly.

  “Well, many men don’t visit brothels or keep a mistress, Sebastian,” Etienne replied.

  “No. It’s not just that. Many men do not. You are correct. No, I am concerned about his lack of relationships with anyone. He is overly fond of his work. Does this work include torture?”

  “It could.” Etienne nodded.

  “With women?”

  Etienne shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  “So we have a man with no ties to any loved ones, who has power and enjoys a job in which abuse and force could exist and be sanctioned.” Sebastian looked out over the street. He sighed. “Do you know what kind of man that is, Etienne?” He turned to meet his friend’s eyes.

  Etienne frowned. “No.”

  “A dangerous man, mon ami.”

  ***

  Sophie’s gown for the evening lay across her bed. The cream-colored silk with its intricate brown swirled embroidery along the scooped neckline, sleeves and hem was exquisite. Madame Darbonne had truly outdone herself and the gown would be the talk of the ball.

  The gown set off Sophie’s auburn hair and she would wear her diamond drop earrings and necklace. Her grandmother had already agreed the ensemble would be perfection.

  Eugenie had decided upon a sage-colored dress with tassels along the hem and lace along the neckline and sleeves. Her father had chosen a red silk coat and waistcoat with brown breeches.

  Sophie dressed with care that evening and Marie gave special attention to her hair. The maid pulled up the heavy auburn hair and secured it back. Sophie applied rouge to her cheeks but left her eyes bare, only darkening her eyebrows. She used a red pomade to enhance her lush lips.

  Marie smiled at her young mistress in the mirror. “Joli.” She declared Sophie lovely.

  Sophie smiled back. Everything would be fine, she told herself.

  ***

  Eugenie and Jean Pierre personally greeted everyone as the carriages deposited the guests on their doorstep. The foyer glittered from the soft candlelight chandelier and the floral smell of bouquets was heavy in the air.

  Sophie came downstairs just as Sebastian and Leila arrived. Leila looked charming in a pale pink gown dotted with roses and lace while her brother looked handsome in a deep royal blue coat and breeches with a cream waistcoat. There was silver embroidery along the cuffs and pockets and he was most elegantly attired.

  “Mademoiselle,” Sebastian said quietly, “you are a vision.”

  He and Leila greeted their hosts and thanked them for the invite. Upon entering the home they found several footman carrying silver trays of champagne. In the smaller salon, tables were filled with platters of meat, cheese, fruit and bread, from which guests could help themselves.

  The ballroom situated at the back of the house had been prepared for the evening with an orchestra and a floor polished to a high shine. Mozart’s Symphony No. 31 in D Major began as guests continued to pour in.

  Etienne arrived not long after Sebastian and he greeted Sophie warmly. Eugenie smiled at the young man and Jean Pierre thanked him for coming. Madame Necker and her husband arrived but apologized that Germaine could not attend as she was ill.

  Eugenie embraced Luc and his grandmother, her dear friend, while Inspector Vennard came into the foyer alone.

  Jean Pierre nodded at the inspector who was dressed as a somber colonial in severe black and white. The inspector immediately watched as the guests entered the Gauvreau home and made a mental note of anyone he recognized.

  The ballroom had gorgeous French doors that led out onto a modest garden which had a small winding path with several fruit trees, lavender bushes and roses in abundance. Eugenie had placed lanterns in strategic places so that those wishing to enjoy the garden and its fresh air could do so. The majority of the guests had already arrived as Sophie helped herself to a glass of champagne.

  “I must speak with you,” Sebastian said quietly as he joined her at the edge of the ballroom.

  “About? I thought we had discussed everything already.” Sophie smiled to him as a couple passed by.

  “I have made—” he was about to tell her what his investigation had uncovered when a Baroque piece by Handel began. Couples began to line up for the L'Allemande dance and he extended his hand to her.

  She accepted and they joined the others on the ballroom floor. The dance began and he whispered, “I have found out some things about the inspector.”

  When they were forced to pull apart as the dance required, she thought on his words. There was no use keeping the truth from him.

  When they came together again she whispered, “He has been to the house, Bash. He suspects Marie.”

  The dance forced them apart again but not before Sebastian cursed under his breath. It was as he thought. Marie had led the inspector to the Gauvreau home. It was only a matter of time. He felt his heart beat faster. He watched Sophie move gracefully and his heart raced. She was in danger. Everything he knew about the inspector, which was almost nothing, told him the man was dangerous. The man would not be stopped until he knew the truth.

  When the music ended he looked for Sophie’s father but did not see him. He r
ealized there was a hush that had descended upon the room and it seemed to come from the foyer. He saw Etienne near the far corner of the room speaking with Eugenie, but Leila was nowhere to be seen.

  The orchestra struck up again and this time it was The Four Seasons by Vivaldi, which Sebastian enjoyed. But the music belied a sense of hope and grandeur which he didn’t feel at all. He glanced around the room for Sophie but instead saw his sister Leila. She had a strange look on her face and she seemed pale. Was something wrong? He was about to go to her when the crush of people to his right seemed to part.

  Suddenly there was a foreign-looking man with dark hair and tanned skin dressed in a brown waistcoat and breeches leading a lovely blonde woman in a cool blue silk gown into the room. He blinked once and thought the scene was a mirage. What on earth?

  He could do nothing but watch them come closer and wonder with a sickening fear what had brought them halfway across the world. They reached him in a few seconds.

  Sebastian tried to smile as he said, “Mother, Father. Welcome to Paris.”

  Chapter 18

  As everyone continued to enjoy the ball, Sebastian was inside the Gauvreaus’ small library with his father, Mohammed, who paced up and down like a wild jaguar, and his calm mother, Katharine.

  They didn’t seem angry but he had no idea why they were in Paris or at Sophie’s ball. He had written to them once since Leila’s arrival and after that not again. There wasn’t much to tell. Leila was in Paris. Not exactly letter-worthy.

  “We expected so much, Sebastian,” his mother began.

  Sebastian looked over at his mother seated on the small sofa. She was still so beautiful with her blonde hair pulled back and her luminous blue eyes like the sea. It wasn’t hard to imagine why his father had given up so much to possess her.

  “Expected what, Mother?” Sebastian asked, still so confused.

  Mohammed sighed and looked over at his wife. “I knew it was a bad idea.”

  “We don’t know anything yet,” Katharine cautioned her husband.

  “We know enough,” he threw back.

  “Mohammed,” she said to calm him.

  “Yes?” both men answered.

  “Sebastian. Just tell us the truth. That’s all we want,” Katharine said warmly.

  “Mother. As thrilled as I am to see you both, I have no idea what you are talking about. Truly I don’t.”

  “And this is who we send our daughter to.” Mohammed shook his head and turned his back on them both.

  Katharine took a deep breath and stood up to approach her son. “We won’t be angry. Just tell us what has happened with Leila.”

  “Leila?” Sebastian asked.

  “Yes.”

  “She’s here now. Did you see her?”

  Katharine nodded. “Yes. We saw her briefly.”

  “Bring her to us,” Mohammed demanded.

  Sebastian was used to his father’s orders and obeying the sheik was an automatic reaction. He nodded and left the library to find his sister. She was near the French doors when her brother came upon her.

  “They want to see you.” There was no need to define “they” as both siblings had seen their parents.

  Leila shook her head. “Sebastian, please.” She began to speak in Arabic.

  “Leila, come.” He frowned at her refusal. “Now.”

  It was no secret that Leila was their father’s favorite daughter, resembling her mother in appearance with a fiery disposition. She had been doted on at the palace and it was thought by many that she had been given too much freedom for a girl.

  Once inside the small library, their family reunion was complete. Outside, the orchestra played and people mingled with champagne and food, but inside the library Leila faced her parents. Katharine was again seated on the sofa as Mohammed stood near the fire.

  “Leila,” Katharine began.

  “Hello, Mother. Father.”

  Mohammed nodded only briefly.

  “Leila. We sent you here to receive culture. To enjoy yourself,” her mother said. Although not entirely true with Leila’s mishap in Arabia, Katharine had hoped that Paris would broaden her horizons.

  “What has happened?” Katharine asked her.

  “Nothing, mother.” She looked at the floor.

  Sebastian watched everything as if he had stumbled into an Italian comedy. He felt strange and ill at ease. His sister was behaving strangely and his parents seemed to know something he did not.

  “Nothing?” Katharine prodded her and patted the sofa next to her and Leila complied.

  “I love him,” she whispered.

  “Oh, Allah,” sighed Mohammed but Katharine ignored him.

  Sebastian shook his head in confusion. What was going on here?

  “And he? Does he love you?” Katharine asked.

  “I believe he does,” Leila said.

  Mohammed turned sharply and came to stand before the two seated women. “Leila. I sent you here to be with your brother. To see Paris. I always intended for you to come back and marry an Arab.” He spoke quickly in Arabic.

  “No.” She shook her head. “I do not care for Arab men. They are too bossy. There are not to my liking.”

  Katharine hid a smile while Mohammed looked at his daughter. “How far has this gone?”

  “What do you mean?” Leila squeaked.

  Mohammed reached down and jerked his daughter up to stand in front of him. “How far?”

  Leila pinkened under his gaze as Katharine admonished her husband. “Mohammed, stop it.”

  “So you are in love. And no longer a virgin,” Mohammed assessed.

  Leila blushed at his words. “Father, please.”

  “And what if he doesn’t want you? What if you were just convenient? You know nothing of men. And Frenchmen are the worst.” Mohammed cursed.

  Leila felt the tears. “No,” she whispered.

  “For God’s sakes! What is going on?!” Sebastian yelled. “Will someone please explain why you are here with no word in the middle of a ball?”

  Katharine smoothed her ice-blue silk gown with her hands. “Your sister wrote to me. It seems she is in love. We came to assess the situation. As to the ball, your housekeeper told us where you both were.”

  Mohammed released Leila and said. “It seems your sister was getting more of an education than you realized here in Paris.”

  “What?” Sebastian asked, astonished.

  “Father!” Leila yelped. “I’m in love, Bash,” she told her brother quietly.

  “Yes. She’s in love. And she’s given her virginity to him,” Mohammed said angrily.

  “How is my falling in love any different than what happened with you two?” she fired back to her parents. “You were a harem girl!” he accused her mother.

  Katharine gave her daughter a withering look. “I was never a harem girl! I was a-a bather.”

  Mohammed tried to hide his own smile as he well remembered her bathing.

  “In love? What?” Sebastian was more confused than ever, trying to catch up with this absurd conversation.

  “I’m in love with Etienne,” Leila explained to him.

  It took a moment for the words to sink in and then he remembered it all. All the times she had spent with his friend and now his friend had taken advantage of his innocent, sweet sister. He saw red and knew that the family honor must be avenged.

  “Jesus,” he swore. In a moment he was out the door while Leila cried out to stop him.

  “No.” Her father held her back. “This is how things must be dealt with. You handled everything wrong. Honor is at stake. A man can never dishonor a woman without consequences.”

  Katharine agreed. “Sebastian must right your wrong.”

  “But it was my fault,” she cried.

  “I can well believe that,” Mohammed murmured.

  ***

  Sebastian looked down the ballroom length and didn’t see Etienne. Suddenly he spotted him speaking with Luc in a far corner of the ballroom.

>   He moved quickly and even as Etienne acknowledged something that was being said, Sebastian drew back and slammed his fist into his friend’s face. There was a cry and many astonished glances, and the orchestra grinded to a halt. There were murmured cries as people nearest them turned to stare at the two men.

  Etienne had seen his friend coming toward him and knew by the speed and his face that something was not right. When Sebastian drew back, he knew with certainty that Leila had told him everything.

  He fell back into the wall and tasted blood and knew his lip had been split.

  For several moments the two men stared at each other. Sebastian flexed his hand, knowing he was bleeding. Etienne licked his lip and tasted blood.

  “My parents are here and my father wants to speak with you.” He growled at him.

  Etienne looked around him and apologized before he followed his friend to the library, while the orchestra began again amidst the many whispers and glances turned their way.

  As Etienne entered the library, he held a handkerchief to his lip. When Leila saw his bleeding mouth she sprang up from the sofa.

  “You animal!” she cried out to her brother.

  “Be quiet, Leila,” Katharine admonished her daughter.

  Etienne saw Leila and felt nothing but pure relief, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He almost smiled. There would be no more deceit and no more pretend.

  “I am Sheik Mohammed Aksam Al Sabid. This is my wife, Katharine,” Mohammed said, introducing himself to the young man.

  “I am Etienne Pousson. Madame, monsieur.” He greeted Leila’s parents and admired them for their regal bearing.

  “We have a problem, Monsieur Pousson. I sent my daughter to Paris for culture and she has received a little too much, oui?” Mohammed began in French.

  Sebastian and Katharine kept out of the conversation while Leila watched everything intently.

  “Monsieur. I am to blame completely. You must be aware of how beautiful Leila is. I quite lost my head,” he explained.