Free The Deception by Catherine Coulter

fact is that I’m nothing more than a poor relation. No one cares about my reputation or lack of one.”
    He wasn’t even looking at her, merely frowning at his face in the shine of his boots. “Very well,” he said.“In a month or so, after Edmund has driven you distracted, and you find yourself on the point of throttling him, you will pay a visit to London. You don’t have to marry any man there, I promise you.” “I won’t ever want to leave Chesleigh.” “We shall see,” he said. He drew his watch from his waistcoat pocket and consulted it. “It’s late. Perhaps your nonsensical opinions result from fatigue.”
    “Just because I have no liking for your kind of life, your grace, you believe me stupid. Oh, dear. I’ve insulted you, haven’t I? I am sorry for it. Will you still let me remain as Edmund’s nanny?”
    “Do you know,” he said after a moment, “I don’t believe I’ve ever met a woman like you before? You run smoothly along a certain road, then suddenly take a turn that leads to another road that goes in the opposite direction. You’re something of a puzzle. I have always been quite good at solving puzzles. Why don’t you say good night? No, don’t say any more. I’m giving you the chance to escape the drawing room without further offending your host.”
    He took a step toward her, then paused. His long fingers stroked his chin. “Before you retire, let me inquire exactly what you believe my kind of life to be.”
    She looked up at him full face. “I believe you to be a man of the world, a man who can have most anything he wishes with but a snap of his fingers, a man, in short, who, because of his wealth, rank, and personal attributes, can indulge himself in any pursuit he fancies.”
    “In conclusion, not a very estimable man.” She said without hesitation, “I will always believe you an estimable man, your grace. I think you have a good deal of kindness. Indeed, how could I ever believeotherwise?” She turned and walked to the drawing room door. She paused, her hand on the doorknob, and said over her shoulder, “After all, have you not allowed a poor cousin-in-law to invade your stronghold?”
    “Yet another different glimpse of you,” he said quietly. “I trust you won’t regret coming here.”
    “I cannot regret it, your grace,” she said, and quickly left the room.
    Her choice of words perplexed him. He went to his library. He decided an hour later, before he went to his bed, that he would postpone his return to London, at least for a week, until he was certain that she and Edmund rubbed along well together.

Chapter 8
    I t was raining hard; the building was old gray stone, an open gutter flowing in front of it. Inside, she could hear the echo of her boots on the stone floors. She’d never known such fear in her life. One of the two men shoved her through a door into a small, narrow room. There was only one high window in that room behind a young man who appeared so thin as to be gaunt. He looked like a monk in his cell. He was sitting behind a very old, scarred desk that held no papers, nothing, on its surface. The young man rose slowly, never looking away from her, his eyes never leaving her face. He was wearing a black, musty-looking wool coat and trousers.
    He walked up to her and took her chin in his long, thin fingers, lifting her face. She tried to jerk away, but one of the men twisted her arm behind her, saying low in her ear, “You hold yourself still, Mademoiselle, or I’ll break this pretty wing.”
    The fingers on her chin tightened, then suddenly released her. He motioned to a chair. “Sit down.”
    She sat. There was no choice. She wanted to ask where her father was, but the words were buried too deep in her throat. Why had they brought her and herfather here? To Paris? She was so afraid, the words were stuck in her throat. The man said, “My name is Houchard. I need you. You will do exactly as I tell you, or I will kill your father.”
    Where were