Shev by Tracey Devlyn Read Free Book Online

little of it at the time, assuming she was engaging in meaningless pillow chatter.”
    “My source could find no other children, natural or baseborn. If he’s impotent and Giselle kept the truth from him, he could repudiate the child.”
    “Wouldn’t the truth be obvious the moment she became enceinte ?”
    “Hope can blind us to the obvious.”
    “And if she didn’t keep the truth from Bélanger?”
    “Then the child is his in the eyes of the law.”
    Shev gave himself a moment to absorb this new detail. He’d understood from the moment Jacqueline showed up on his doorstep that their time together could be limited. Until this moment, he had not considered how much he looked forward to Jacqueline sneaking curious looks at him at the dinner table. Nor had he realized the pride he took when gazing at a miniature, pixie version of his own countenance.
    Would the questions fade into oblivion? Would the corridors of his home go silent, no longer filled with the rare giggle or the less rare shriek of a banshee? Would he never glimpse his daughter’s face again?
    A strange, hollow jitteriness filled his chest.
    Perhaps it was best that she return to France. Girls were delicate little things. The battalion of servants he had thought to hire seemed insignificant now. They could not prevent her from stumbling down a staircase or taking ill. Children attracted congestive problems like black evening wear collected lint.
    Yet something primal, protective reared up inside him. “Giselle’s letter indicated Bélanger had banished her and the child to the country after finding out he wasn’t the girl’s father. Based on what you found in Bonaparte’s Code, I don’t see Bélanger claiming Jacqueline well after the fact.”
    “Love can sometimes make us do things against our nature. If Bélanger developed a bond with Jacqueline, he may come around now that his wife is dead. After all, his wife was the one who betrayed him, not the child.”
    Shev’s jaw clenched.
    “There’s more,” Somerton said. “Despite the Revolution’s best efforts, Jacqueline’s maternal grandparents are quite wealthy and have solid ties to the emperor.”
    Shev’s heartbeat grew louder in his ears. “And?”
    “The Trudeaus want their only grandchild back.”
    * * *
    After Somerton departed, Shev had sat in numb silence, contemplating his next move. He could remain in the same anticipatory state—would Jacqueline stay or would she go? Or he could make the most of their time together.
    No one would ever accuse him of being the sentimental sort. God had not seen fit to bestow such emotion upon him.
    Whether he had an hour or a lifetime with Jacqueline, there would come a time when she’d wonder about him—her father. And he was arrogant enough to want those memories to be warm and inviting rather than cold and elusive.
    So he had sent word home that everyone—including Miss Crawford—would be retiring to the country on the morrow. Had the news lifted the somberness from Jacqueline’s features? Or had his decision reminded her of the time her French father exiled her and her mother?
    Rather than return home, he’d made his way to the one place that would vanquish the ache in his chest. Until a few weeks ago, his good friend Ethan deBeau would have joined him at Madame Rousseau’s. That was before Ethan met Shev’s other dear friend, Sydney Hunt.
    Shev knew love existed. He’d witnessed its power many times between his parents. All his father had to do was enter a room and his mother’s face would soften, her gaze tracking his progress. His father would show his affection by kissing his mother’s cheek anytime he happened by her.
    As a young lad, Shev had found their affectionate display odd and uncomfortable. None of his friends’ parents acted in such a way.
    Now, he saw their actions went far beyond love. Every touch was a promise, a measure of reassurance. With a single lingering glance, his mother reassured herself of her