As soon as they arrived at their hôtel, Etienne said to Tom, “I am tired. Would you please take me to my room?”
“Would you like me to send up some tea?” Katie asked him.
He gave a faint smile. “No, thank you. I’m fine.”
She squeezed his hand, realizing she would have to face Gerrit and Hester on her own. “Don’t worry, they will understand.”
“Yes, all too well...”
“I’ll come up as soon as I’ve spoken to Gerrit and Hester.”
“It is all right. I shall begin to pack, with Tom’s help, of course.”
She swallowed, wanting to contradict him but realizing it would be futile at this point. “I’ll be up soon,” she repeated.
When she sat in the parlor with Hester and Gerrit seated on a settee opposite her, she began, “I love him and he loves me.”
“Yes, dear,” Hester said. “That is very clear from each of you.”
Gerrit leaned forward, planting his elbows on his knees. “Unfortunately, there are some impediments to a life together—impediments that love might not be strong enough to overcome.”
“I am ready to face whatever I need to if it means being with him.”
“Have you really thought about what it would entail?” he asked quietly.
She looked down at her own hands gripping her knees and moistened her lips. “I may not understand fully what a life would be like with Etienne as he is now but I do know the Lord wrought a miracle in his life the other night when He healed him.” She looked straight at Gerrit. “God answered my prayers. He saved Etienne.”
“Yes, indeed,” Hester murmured. “We had about given up hope that he would pull through from the fever.”
“No, I mean God saved his soul. After we’d prayed so fervently for his healing—you, Tom and I—” she said to Gerrit—“the fever still returned. Etienne regained consciousness enough to tell me that he was ready to give up...that is, to place himself at God’s mercy. He wanted Jesus.”
Both Gerrit and Hester were listening to her now. “Although it broke my heart to realize that the Lord was going to take him away that night, I helped Etienne to receive Jesus as his Savior.
“I fully expected Etienne to be gone by the next morning. I must have fallen asleep. All I remember was weeping and praying and giving up my own desires in order that God’s perfect will be done.”
Her voice broke as she remembered that agonizing night and the joy that followed. “When I awoke, Etienne’s fever had broken and he was in his right mind.”
Hester brought her hands together and her hazel eyes shone. “God be praised. It truly was a miracle.”
After a moment as Gerrit and Hester marveled, Katie continued. “That is not all.”
They looked at her with expectancy. “I had prayed earlier for God to heal Etienne—not from the influenza, but to restore to him his sight and his ability to walk.”
Hester shook her head. “Oh, my dear...”
Gerrit to his credit said nothing but the look in his eyes held compassionate understanding.
“When the Lord didn’t take Etienne that night but instead restored him to us, I knew the Lord had not finished his work in him. He has saved him for a purpose.”
“Does Santerre know you prayed this for him?” Gerrit asked.
Katie shook her head. “He is not ready to hear it yet. The few times I’ve broached the subject, he scoffs. I can understand he doesn’t want his hopes raised. In fact, when he awoke, he said nothing of having accepted Jesus. I was the one who reminded him, and he has said little about it. But he did and he was sincere at the time, so I know the Lord has not finished with my beloved yet.” Katie smiled though her smile was shaky.
Gerrit and Hester looked at one another. Katie held her breath, wanting so much for them to understand.
They turned to her, each with a smile. “Clearly, the Lord is doing something in Monsieur Santerre’s life. Who are we to interfere in God’s plan?” Gerrit said.
“Instead, we must do all to help,” Hester added. “Let’s begin by praying, and see where the Lord is leading us.”
Katie’s heart sang. “Yes!”
The bowed their heads and Gerrit led them in a prayer. Hester and then Katie added their prayers. When they said “Amen!” Gerrit stood.
“I believe before you go up to your beloved, I should like to have a word with him. If you don’t mind,” he added with a grin.
“No, indeed,” Katie said, wondering what he would speak to Etienne about.
“Has the Lord spoken to you, dear?” Hester asked her husband.
“I believe he has. I’ll tell you about it if I make any headway with Santerre. I shall return shortly and let you know.”
* * *
“Now, then, sir, can I get you anything? Sure you don’t want a nice ’ot cup o’ tea?” Tom asked after he’d settled Etienne on his bed.
The words came as through a fog. “No—no, thank you,” Etienne replied with effort.
His sole focus was how to save Katie. She would saddle herself with him, sharing his living hell. He would not permit it! He must do something, but what?
He clenched his fists and pounded them against the bed cover.
“There, now, sir, you mustn’t fret. Hawkes will come up with something, you’ll see. You can trust ’im and ’is dear wife. They won’t let you down.”
Etienne had forgotten Tom’s presence. He unclenched his hands with effort but replied nothing. What could he say? He was not used to confiding in a Brit. Tom meant well, but he was loyal to Gerrit. Etienne had no doubt Gerrit would do all he needed to save his young sister-in-law from a fate worse than death. But Etienne didn’t wish Katie hurt, and he knew whatever they did would hurt Katie.
No, there was only one solution. Etienne must kill himself. It was the only way to save Katie.
Only with the permanence of death would Katie be able to continue her life. She must have no hope of a future with him. And if Gerrit separated them, Katie would hold it against her brother-in-law, and Etienne didn’t wish that. Katie would need her brother-in-law and sister more than ever when he was gone.
A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. Etienne’s heart began to thud in anticipation of seeing Katie. He had to be strong. She must not suspect anything.
“Come in,” Tom called out.
“Sorry to disturb you two.”
Etienne’s hand jerked at the voice of the man he’d been thinking so hard on.
Gerrit’s footsteps sounded on the floorboards and his cheerful voice came across the room. “Ah, I’m glad to see you haven’t fallen asleep. I wanted to have a word with you, Santerre, if you have a moment.”
Etienne waved a hand. “That is what I have in abundance.”
“Do you mind leaving us, Tom?”
“’Course not, sir. Just ring when you need me.”
“Thanks.”
At the click of the door, the room fell silent once more. Etienne waited, bracing himself for the inevitable talk. He would preempt Hawkes by asking to be taken back to Les Invalides immediately.
“You look like a man scheming to blow his brains out.”
Etienne’s jaw dropped. “H—how did you—?” He fell silent at the inadvertent admission.
Hawkes chuckled. “It takes one to know one.” The sounds of his settling into the chair by his bed reached Etienne.
Etienne turned in that direction. “You? How could you know anything about my condition?”
“I may not have been blinded and rendered lame during the war. My wounds were the kind that don’t show. I’ve been where you are now—surmising yourself the worst scoundrel on earth.” A smile underlaid his words. “And all because of a woman. Am I not correct?” A hand clamped down on his shoulder. Etienne flinched at the unaccustomed touch.
“Ye...es,” he admitted. “But it’s not her fault,” he hastened to add. ’Tis I, as you say. I’m the worst—the weakest—I couldn’t control myself—”
“Easy there.” The grip tightened on his shoulder. “You are not the first man to fall in love. It happens to the best of us.” Again, humor underscored his words.
“But I thought...from our conversation the other day...I am the last man you’d want for Ka—Mademoiselle Leighton.”
“I’m sorry if I implied that I didn’t think you were worthy of her. I was just trying to warn you of her feelings. It’s clear she’s in love with you, and if there is something you haven’t discovered yet about Katie, it’s that she is no namby-pamby miss with a fickle heart, imagining herself in love.
“Underneath her sweet exterior she’s a strong woman. When she makes up her mind about something, there’s little that can dissuade her. Look at how she adopted Brioche. She is not afraid of giving love.”
Etienne’s mouth twisted. “I am a Brioche, some destitute foundling needing a home.”
“You are a young gentleman needing a defender. Perhaps Katie has been sent to show you that.”
“What...do you mean?” His mouth felt dry and his pulse quickened at Gerrit’s strange words.
“It’s clear you are a gentleman who has lost everything. Perhaps it’s time to ’fess up and tell us your story. Perhaps we can help you. Perhaps then you won’t feel so unworthy of Katie’s love.”
Etienne sat silent a long while, pondering Gerrit’s words. Why should these people help him? Was such a thing possible? But it always came back to his infirmities. “I will never be worthy of Katie’s love as long as I sit unseeing in this chair.”
“I cannot judge that, but perhaps we can help your situation materially. There is nothing I can do, however, if you do not tell me more of your history and how you came to sit destitute at the mercy of a sadistic manservant.”
Etienne thought once more of Marcel’s appearance and his interest in Katie. Something was not right there. If not for himself, he had to protect Katie. He took in a long breath. “Very well. I will tell you how I came to be here.”
“Take all the time you need.”
Etienne braced his hands on his thighs. “My name is not Etienne Santerre. It is Etienne d’Arblay, eldest—and only—son of Armand d’Arblay, Comte St. Honoré.
“D’Arblay...d’Arblay...why does that sound so familiar to me?”
“Perhaps because your sister-in-law seems to have another suitor in Paris.”
“Another suitor?”
“Marcel d’Arblay, the stepson of my father.”
“Marcel d’Arblay...the young gentleman we met at Fontainebleau. He’s called on Katie, I seem to recall...yes...” Gerrit paused. “Hmm. So you are stepbrothers.”
He felt the same reluctance that he’d had as a boy to admit the connection. “Yes.”
“He knows you are at Les Invalides in the condition you are in?” Gerrit said with surprise in this voice.
“As far as I know, Pierre, my manservant, let my family know I was alive, when he returned me to Paris, but they refused all knowledge of me—as a cripple and a dishonored war veteran once Napoléon had fallen.”
“I see...”
Etienne remained silent, giving Hawkes time to process the information.
After a few moments, Hawkes asked him, “Can you tell me more of your family history? Are your parents still alive? It seems strange for a mother not to want to see her son, no matter how maimed or dishonored he is.”
“My mother is not alive, thank God,” he said at once. “She died when I was but eight. My father married after a year...the year my life changed. He married a conniving, ambitious woman who had a son, Marcel, a few years younger than I. My life became a torment then until I was fifteen and went off to military college in Paris.
“From there I entered the army and had as little to do with them as possible. Except for visiting my father, whom I continued to love and respect.”
“And you are from?”
“The Loire valley. My family has a château there. It has been in the d’Arblay family for generations. From what I have gleaned from Katie, my stepbrother now calls himself the Count St. Honoré.”
“Does that mean your father has passed on?”
Etienne’s heart constricted. “I...had not thought so. He is not an old man. We are of a long-lived line. My grandpère lived to be four-and-eighty.”
“Let me investigate things a bit. I have a lot of questions that remain.”
Etienne’s fingers moved about the counterpane. “Why should you wish to do so?”
“Because the good Lord was merciful to me once when I couldn’t bear to live anymore. Besides, I have many Frenchmen’s lives on my hands, so it is fitting that I should help one.
“And, if I need any other reason, my young sister-in-law has lost her heart to you, so I’d rather you be a rich nobleman than an impoverished one,” he ended with a chuckle.
Etienne scowled. “I am not even half a man! What could I ever offer her?”
“Well, Katie seems to think very highly of you as a man, and if her sister was able to look past who I was, to my heart, and if Katie is anything like Hester—and I assure you, they are cut from the same cloth—she knows how best to judge a man’s worth.
“She’s also convinced the Lord is going to have you up walking and seeing,” Gerrit added.
Etienne made an incredulous sound in his throat. “Do you?”
Hawkes paused. His words came out hesitant. “Jesus came to set us free. I know He performed a miracle in my life...so I don’t see why he wouldn’t for you. After all, He is no ‘respecter of persons,’ as the Good Book says.”
Etienne’s throat and jaw worked although he was not able to get the words out. “I’m afraid to...believe. What if I don’t have enough faith?”
“There’s a Scripture for that. A man with a child full of demonic spirits asks Jesus to help him ‘in his unbelief.’”
“What did Jesus reply?” Etienne held his breath, awaiting the reply.
“He cast them out of him.”
Etienne let out his breath. He thought about the night he’d given up. All he’d wanted to do was to cease struggling, but the darkness had been too frightening. The moment he’d asked Katie to receive her Savior, sleep had come. Peaceful sleep. And then he’d awoken, the fever broken.
Would God hear his prayer again? And if not, how long would these good people suffer him until they grew tired and deemed him a lost cause?
* * *
Ever since Gerrit had talked with Etienne and offered his help, Katie’s heart had soared. Praise to God filled her lips as she hummed hymns or offered prayers of thanksgiving.
Etienne had given up his request to be moved back to Les Invalides. They spent their days in the same manner as before as he continued to regain strength. He trained with Tom in the mornings. Their afternoons were spent outdoors as much as possible, reading or visiting the countryside.
Neither Katie nor Etienne alluded to their kiss, but a new intimacy was present in their relationship. She felt no qualms about calling him by his Christian name and after a hesitancy he followed suit.
“You called me Katie when you were sick.”
A slight smile played along his lips. “Did I?”
She squeezed his hand. “Yes.”
“It is how I have thought of you for a long time.”
“I love the sound of my name on your lips. Your French accent makes it sound so romantic instead of the simple name it is.”
“It is a romantic name. Ka-tie.” The syllables flowed from his mouth.
They didn’t talk about the future. Katie didn’t want to upset him although her mind was filled with conjectures of how the future would be for the two of them.
Gerrit had advised that Etienne not be made visible in the neighborhood until they found out more about Marcel d’Arblay.
The sadness that had emanated from Etienne was gone—at least when he was in her company, but it had been replaced by a certain grimness. When he was not talking to her she would observe his lips tightened in a line, his jaw tense, his hands clenched.
If she asked him what was wrong, he would shake himself, smile, and reply, “Nothing.”
After a few days, Gerrit called them all together into the parlor. Katie’s heart leaped in anticipation that he would have discovered some way to help Etienne.
“Etienne,” he said at once, “I’ve had inquiries made and have consulted with a lawyer on your behalf. I hope you don’t mind my presumption in taking this step, but I know you must be impatient—as are we all—to know what our next step should be.”
Etienne waved a hand. “Not at all. I appreciate all you have done on my behalf.”
“Very well.” Gerrit rubbed his hands together. “I’ve sent someone to go to Sevigny-le-Rideau, the place of your family seat, and discover the present status of your family and of your estate.”
Etienne drew in a breath at the mention of the town. “What did he discover?”
“It’s not good.” Gerrit paused as if to give Etienne time to prepare himself.
“Your father is indeed deceased.”
Katie brought a hand to her mouth, her heart going out to Etienne. He bowed his head. She reached out her hand and covered his. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
He turned away.
They all remained silent to give him time to absorb this news.
After a while he looked up. “I should have expected it. But somehow, it doesn’t seem possible. My father was always a hale and hearty man. When I returned to Paris two years ago and was told he still lived but wanted nothing to do with me, I believed it. It seemed more realistic than to know he...he had died.” His voice broke, and once more he bowed his head, his hands clenched together.
The others murmured their sympathies knowing there was nothing they could do or say to alleviate the news.
“H—how long has he been gone?” Etienne asked.
“He died in 1815, a month after Waterloo,” Gerrit said quietly.
“D—did he know about me?”
“From what I learned from my man, your father probably believed you had died on the battlefield. Everyone in your native village believes you died a hero’s death at Waterloo. It seems your father died of a broken heart, believing he’d lost his only child.”
Etienne rubbed his jaw in agitation. Katie touched his shoulder, rubbing it softly to offer her comfort. How she wished she could hold him in her arms.
“He never knew...he never knew...” he murmured to himself. He squeezed the bridge of his nose, his head bowed again, as if the knowledge was too much for him. His shoulders shook.
Katie met Hester’s and Gerrit’s sympathetic gazes. They all gathered around Etienne.
Gerrit put his hand on Etienne’s other shoulder. “Dear Lord, We ask You to comfort our brother Etienne. Be with him in his grief. Only You can give him the solace he needs. Grant him Your grace. Strengthen him through the power of your Holy Spirit. Guide him in how to proceed in this time. We ask this in Your holy name, Jesus Christ. Amen.”
Again they stood silent some seconds before resuming their seats.
The prayer seemed to have strengthened Etienne. He sighed and sat up again. “Thank you. You are too good. I have done nothing to deserve your friendship.”
“We are here to help you in any way we can,” Hester said. “Please don’t hesitate.”
“Thank you,” he whispered. Taking another breath as if to strengthen himself, he continued. “It is both appalling and comforting to know that my father didn’t know I was still alive. You see, I thought he had turned his back on me...” Again his voice threatened to break.
Katie squeezed his shoulder once more and leaned closer to him. “I couldn’t believe that your parent had turned away from you like that. He did love you and would have received you in any condition you were in. You see that now, don’t you?”
He reached up and squeezed her hand. “Thank you, dearest Katie, ever-faithful Katie.”
Gerrit cleared his throat a few seconds later. “The lawyer and I both agree that you need to make yourself known and claim your place as the true Count St. Honoré.”
Katie and Hester stared at him. Then Katie nodded. Of course, this injustice done to her beloved must be righted.
Once more Etienne knotted his hands. “But how can I? I shall be tried as a traitor.”
“The lawyer said it is unlikely. He can defend you in any case. There was some initial retribution fever when Louis the Eighteenth came into power, but he said that is abating now.
“You may even receive amnesty or a pardon. The Bourbons are eager to keep everyone happy, especially the army, so they are willing to overlook the past, particularly as your rank was not that of a marshal.
“And in light of your wounds and your good family’s name—your father was admired for all his good works—and the fact that you have an outstanding military record—” Gerrit cleared his throat to prevent Etienne from interrupting—“before rejoining Napoleon—all that will count for something. The lawyer is sure you will be exonerated.
“In any case, the important issue here is that you reclaim what is rightfully yours. It is clear that this young man—and his mother, your father’s second wife—are unlawfully enjoying all that your father meant you to have.”
“Celeste d’Arblay.”
“Your stepmother?” Katie asked him.
“Don’t call her that,” he said in a gentle tone. “She was the woman who made my life a misery when she married my father. She is the reason I left home when I did and never felt welcome in my family’s ancestral house after he remarried.”
“I understand.”
“Thank you, dearest Katie.” He gave her hand a squeeze.
“We’d like to escort you to your ancestral home and offer whatever assistance, legal or otherwise, to restore what is yours,” Gerrit said.
“I will accept your offer to help me return to my home, but—” His voice grew firm. “I will go alone.”
“You can’t—” They all chimed in.
“I can do nothing by myself, but I will not impose on you—or put you in any danger, if it is danger I must face.”
“How do you propose to maneuver without someone to be your eyes and legs?” Gerrit asked.
“If I could but ask for a manservant to accompany me, perhaps Tom, if he is willing, I can do the rest. There are people there who still know me and may welcome me and aid me,” he finished in a hopeful tone.
* * *
Katie was heartbroken that Etienne didn’t want her to go along to his native village but he remained adamant.
“I don’t understand what you hope to accomplish by yourself. You need Gerrit.”
“Shush, ma petite. I don’t wish to trouble your family any further. And as for you,” he tightened his hold on her hand, “I want to protect you. I don’t know what I shall find when I return to my home.”
She wanted to reply that it was he who would need their protection but she bit back the words. He seemed so certain of his course of action and she didn’t want to shake his confidence.
As if sensing her doubt, he added with a sad smile, “Let me slay a few dragons to prove myself worthy of your love. There is so little I am capable of doing to merit your regard.”
“Oh, Etienne, it is I who am unworthy of you.” If only he knew how plain and ordinary she was. He was a count with an ancestral home and lands. Who was she?
Later when she expressed her fears for Etienne to her sister and brother-in-law, Gerrit said, “I think for his pride’s sake, he needs to know he can do something on his own. He will never feel worthy of you in his present condition, but perhaps if he succeeds in regaining his title and estate, he can have something to call his own and which can allow him to begin accepting the notion of a future with you.”
The words echoed Etienne’s own. Her heart broke with compassion for his feelings of helplessness. She wished it weren’t true; she wished her love was enough but something about Gerrit’s words convicted her, so she kept her peace and continued praying for Etienne’s journey.
Tom agreed to accompany him. “There’s nothing I’d like better. I’ll watch out for ’im, don’t you worry none,” he told Katie with a wink. “I’ll continue ’is training. E’s gained weight—all muscle—and is looking as fit as a fiddle.”
“We appreciate what you’ve done for him,” Gerrit said. “You’ve helped him regain his sense of worth.”
“Getting what’s rightly ’is will go a long way in that direction,” Tom said with a decisive nod.
Once they accepted the fact of his journey, Etienne seemed impatient to be on his way. Katie tried not to feel hurt but had the sense that she’d lost him. He was driven in some strange way and did not even seem aware of her at times.
Hester was her comfort. “I had to let Gerrit go, when Papa was against our union. I didn’t see him for a whole winter, when he went to the lumber camp.” Hester squeezed her hand and offered a sympathetic smile. “But you’ll see. The Lord did a mighty work in Gerrit when we were apart. If you continue praying for Etienne, you will be amazed at what will come about.”
Katie nodded, understanding the words but finding them hard to accept at the moment.
Dear Lord, I trust You. But please protect Etienne when he is on his own. You see how helpless he is, yet he seems determined to go into the lion’s den. A part of her felt a deep foreboding and all she could do to counter it was to pray and read the Scriptures.
In a few days he was gone.
The night before he left, he had given her his mother’s brooch. “It is the only thing I have left to remind you of me.”
Katie drew in her breath. “Oh, Etienne, are you sure you want to leave this with me?”
He wrapped his hand around hers, enclosing the brooch in her palm. “Yes, very sure. You are the only one worthy to have it.”
Tears pricked her eyes.
“My mother would have loved you like a daughter had she had the chance to know you.”
“I’m glad you think so. I shall keep this memento safe for you until your return.”
“Thank you, Katie, ma chérie.” He bent and kissed her hand. It was the first kiss he’d given her since their day in the rose garden. Her heart swelled. She yearned to lean forward and kiss his lips, but he sat back and made no further overtures to her.
She stared at his lips, every fiber of her being longing to embrace him. Dear Lord, Help me to be strong. How would she bear not seeing him every day as she’d had for the last month and a half?
Gerrit hired a coach for him and Tom. It was a few days’ journey southward to the city of Orléans and then to Tours. Beyond that lay the small village of Sevigny-le-Rideau in the Loire Valley.
Even though he couldn’t see her, Katie waved with her handkerchief until their carriage had turned the corner and was out of sight.
She wondered what she would say if Marcel d’Arblay called on her. Gerrit had cautioned her to be careful what she divulged until they had a better sense of what Etienne was up against.
But she didn’t have the opportunity to test her resolve. The young count—false count—she called him to herself—didn’t call anymore. Since neither Katie nor Hester had been about in society for weeks, they didn’t see Marcel at any of the salons or ballrooms. Gerrit, who still went out for business purposes, said he had seen “neither hide nor hair of the young gentleman.”
Lack of information made Katie worry all the more. Although she chastised herself, telling herself she must trust in the Lord’s work, she found herself imagining all sorts of dire scenarios. What if Etienne never came back?