Page 121 of Beneath the Devil's Mask

“That is what I am endeavoring to remember out of the whole senseless tragedy,” Mandell said. “How much my parents loved each other, and that they must have been happy for a time.”

He bowed his head in silence for a moment before he could continue, “There was a more recent letter amongst my grandfather’s effects. This one from the present Comte de Valmiere seeking information about myself and my father. God alone only knows why the old man did not destroy it, but I am grateful that he did not.

“I have an uncle living near Caen, and several aunts. It occurs to me that they might be able to tell me a great deal about my father, things that I was never privileged to know. The comte mentioned that he still has some of my father’s compositions. It seems that the reason he took my mother to Paris in the first place was that he hoped for an audience at court, a chance to find a patron for his music.”

A flush of embarrassment stained Mandell’s cheeks. “I know this is going to sound absurd, but I feel that if I could learn to play my father’s music, I could somehow have a part of him back again, perhaps even regain a part of myself that was taken from me so long ago.”

“It does not sound absurd at all,” Anne said.

He slipped his hand from her grasp. “I want to go back to France, Anne.”

She wondered if he realized that as he spoke, he paced several steps away from her. Once more, Anne felt the distance threatening to grow between them. But she forced back the lump in her throat and said, “Of course, my lord. If that is what you need to do.”

“If circumstances had been different, I would have asked you to go with me. But I no longer have the right to do so, not after these discoveries about my grandfather. He often accused me of having tainted blood, and so I do. Not my father’s, but his.”

“No, Mandell,” Anne protested, seeking to recapture his hand.

But Mandell stepped back, saying in a voice raw with anguish, “There was one dread moment, Anne, when I looked into his eyes and I saw myself reflected there, when I realized there was a danger I could become just like him, cold, ruthless and uncaring.”

“No, Mandell! There was an evil in him that has never existed in you.”

“How can you be so certain of that?” he asked bitterly. “Because you believe that Norrie has this uncanny ability to peer into hearts? Because for some strange reason your little girl loves me?”

“No, because I do.”

Her answer stopped his agitated pacing. Every part of him seemed to go still as he stared into her eyes, desperately wanting to believe.

She cupped his face between her hands and said, “I love you, Mandell. Do you think that I could care so much for a man who was as cold and hard as you describe?”

“Then despite all that has happened, you would still marry me, Anne?” he asked.

“Yes, my lord.”

“You would permit me to be a father to your little girl?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Trust me enough to?—”

“To surrender my entire life and happiness into your keeping? Yes, my lord,” Anne repeated fervently.

A shadow passed from his features, his eyes shining with such tenderness and humble gratitude that Anne felt tears start to her eyes.

“I have another name, you know,” he said almost shyly. “I was christened for my father, Dominque.”

“Dominque,” Anne repeated. “It is a very fine name.”

“For so long I tried to forget it.”

“I know,” she said, caressing back the dark strands of hair from his temple. “Because remembering brought you the nightmare.”

“You have banished the nightmares, milady,” he said huskily. “For us, I vow there will only be dreams.”

Drawing her into his arms, he sealed the promise with his kiss.