~ Twenty-Two ~

 

 

THE MORNING MAIL BROUGHT LADY Marling a gilt-edged envelope, which she waved at her assembled extended family. “You see, it is here. An invitation from Napoleon—for all of us!”

The viscount had been sipping tea, stopped, and said, “Odd.”

“Odd?” Lady Marling questioned. She looked around at the two French servants and said sweetly, “Go on, enjoy some refreshments with Cook in the kitchen.” She waited for them to leave and urged, “Go on. How is it odd?”

“Indeed,” Charles said. “What does that mean?”

“Merely that I find it coincidental that Boney should extend a dinner invitation to us so shortly after an attempt on his life. An attempt that is purported to have been engineered by the British. Here we stand, three, if one counts Fitz, shining examples of British gentlemen, and yet…an invitation that includes us?” Bel answered.

Fitz glared at him.

“Never say you think we are suspects?” Lady Marling dropped the invitation on a nearby table and put a hand to her heart.

“No, not precisely, but Boney is shrewd. I believe he intends to have a look at us for himself.”

“Blister it, Bel! Fitz is right, we shall have to make plans to leave…and soon,” Charles said.

Bel sighed. “I already have sent word to my crew to be ready, and not in Calais, but Le Havre.”

“We haven’t completed our mission,” Charles said, and sighed heavily.

“Mission?” Lady Marling caught the word. “Never mind any mission, it is over now—isn’t it?”

“This is all very exciting, but what mission?” Letty stuck in.

Bel moved towards her and took her fingers to his lips. “Hush, you, like Lady Marling, must stay well out of this.”

Letty eyed him, but said nothing, as Lady Marling said it for her by waving her hand and declaring, “Nonsense. We can be of great service at Boney’s rout. If you keep us apprised of what is important, we shall agree to keep our ears on the alert for any tidbits that might be of use to you.”

Bel laughed to see Letty nod vigorously and said, “Very well, we have a deal, as long as no one notices you two listening to anything they don’t want you to overhear.”

“There is something I want to talk about,” Letty stuck in all at once. “Regarding Lady Elizabeth.”

“Yes, Letty?” Bel answered.

“The ruffian who tried to abduct Lady Liz was French, and though he seemed to look at her diamonds, he also seemed afraid to take them. No doubt, he is working for someone…dangerous, and again, I wish to remind you regarding Bourriene, as I wrote a short missive to Lady Liz and told her of my suspicions. She says I must not worry about it and indicated she and John Darcy have the matter in hand, but, Bel, with matters growing more complicated, I am concerned for her.”

“Indeed, I will inform John that matters with Boney, and the English, may be tense,” Bel answered.

“Yes, but, you know, should Bourriene decide to abduct Lady Liz, well, under the present circumstances, he might get away without accountability. In fact, he must already know that.”

“And your advice, my brilliant minx?” Bel asked.

She felt his eyes stroke her warmly and beamed at him. “I think you should advise them to leave Paris—France, at once. In fact, I have a notion that we should do the same as soon as we may!”

“There, knowing one, our Letty, I quite agree,” said Fitz, standing to attention. “The time is now.”

“Perhaps, but not quite now,” Charles said. “But immediately after Boney’s affair.”

 

* * * * *

 

Letty nervously sought Lady Marling’s white-gloved hand, and was rewarded with a reassuring squeeze. Here she was, at Napoleon Bonaparte’s fête, clothed in an ivory silk that clung to her figure, and so many men were staring at her!

How far she had come, she thought as she looked around. She owed it all to Bel, and all the years he had spent making her feel special. She was grateful, but more than that, she loved him to the point of distraction.

Bel escorted Aunt Fanny and Letty into the large, over large, dining chamber, and stood chatting her up to set her at ease. How thoughtful he always was. She looked into his violet eyes, and felt a thrill rush through her for the look he gave her. There was pure desire lighting up in his eyes, desire yes, and something else. Dare she hope that something else was love?

Chatter filled the air with excitement, and a tingle of anticipation fluttered in waves as they awaited the arrival of the First Consul and his wife, Madame Josephine.

The Galerie de Diane, the First Consul’s state banqueting room, was filled to overflowing, and though most of the company was French, she noted a great many English people she was acquainted with were present as well.

Napoleon’s arrival was announced, and everyone came to attention, and as he stood there taking it all in, she was aware of his and his wife’s imposing presence.

Josephine, while not beautiful, was bewitchingly attractive in her style. She stood, the picture of elegance and self-assurance, in a gown of black silk trimmed with white embroidery. Her figure was alluring, and the silk clung to every curve. Her smile, as she surveyed her subjects, was enchanting. She patted the dark curls piled high on her head and moved towards her ladies in waiting, and left her husband to do his own tour of their guests.

Suddenly, Josephine was standing right in front of them, and Lady Marling was introducing Letty as her young charge.

Letty thought she would choke, but managed a pretty curtsy before she straightened and met Josephine’s direct gaze.

“Why, how charming,” Josephine said in French with languid grace. “You may be proud of your protégé, my Lady Marling. I do hope you will enjoy the evening we have planned.”

As Josephine turned to look at her husband, Letty noted that the First Consul was being introduced to the men of her party. He gave Fitz a severe glance a moment before he turned without a word to Sir Charles and grunted something in French.

It was the viscount who seemed to interest him as he called to Josephine and said, “Ah, my dear, here he is, the English with the violet eyes you told me all your ladies in waiting are enamored with.”

Josephine smiled, but said nothing, and the viscount filled the pause by changing the subject to say, “May I compliment you on the amount of restoration you have managed both in Paris and in the Tuileries. When I was here last, it was not so tastefully fashioned.”

This, the First Consul seemed to like this, and he inclined his head. “Ah, yes, in ninety-two…when the Tuileries and the person of the king were seized, I was very far from thinking that this palace would one day be my home,” Bonaparte said pensively.

His wife nudged him, and they inclined their heads as they moved off to greet other guests. A dinner buffet was introduced, and Letty found herself standing with both the Russian baron and Monsieur Jean Renet.

“You are staring,” Letty reproached Jean Renet.

“Yes, he is, shall I throttle him?” the Russian asked, frowning threateningly.

Letty laughed. “No, no…I merely have to dismiss him.”

“Ah, no, no, ma belle, you would not, you could not be so cruel,” Jean Renet cried out.

“My dear sir, I am persuaded it would be a kindness, as here is the baron wanting to throttle you, and may I remind you that it was not so long ago that Belfort threatened to throw you out a window.”

“But, my adorable one, to suffer for your sake is all that I could want, all that I need,” he returned.

The baron grumbled in Russian. Letty laughed and admonished, “No, sir, I have no wish for you to suffer.”

“Ah, possessor of my heart! Still, I would do so,” Jean Renet returned.

Sir Charles interrupted at that moment, looking at both the Russian and Jean Renet with disapproval and saying, “It appears I am none too soon. Come, dear, Aunt Fanny wishes a word.”

She nodded to the gentlemen and glided away with her hand on Charles’ arm, and whispered, “Thank you, Charles. Jean Renet is most tiresome, and the Russian, I feared, was about to do him bodily harm.”

Charles laughed. “Aye, I noticed the tulip appeared to be in fine form. In fact, it appeared as though Bel was just about to have a go with them, so I hurried ahead.”

Letty looked for Bel, and saw him plant a light kiss on Lady Liz’s cheek and sighed to ask, “Where is John Darcy?”

“I fancy he will be here soon. He was engrossed making special travel arrangements,” Charles said.

“Oh…oh no, he is leaving. Who will look after Lady Liz?” Letty returned sharply.

“Ah, who indeed? As it happens…” Charles started.

“Here is Bel!” Letty interrupted.

“There you two are,” Bel said, not unpleasantly. “I was beginning to think the tulip had spirited my Letty off, and I was getting ready to plant him a facer. In fact, the Russian over there, staring down any number of bucks looking your way, appears to be ready to plant all of his competition into the ground.”

Letty laughed. “The tulip, he usually does attempt to make love to me soon after I arrive anywhere, but...”

“Only trying to make love to you!” Bel snapped incredulously.

“Hush,” Charles admonished.

“It was no more than what you do with Lady Liz,” Letty returned in some heat.

“What I do with…Letty! Devil a bit, it ain’t the same,” Bel returned in some confusion.

“No? Well, that is true since you were kissing Lady Liz and I was not kissing the tulip!” she said, feeling the blush in her cheeks.

Charles folded his arms across his chest and watched the show, looking quite satisfied, Letty thought with some irritation. This was what he wanted. She wasn’t sure she wanted it.

Charles bent and whispered to her before he moved off. “Here now is the catalyst we need.”

“As it happens, you are too naïve to understand,” Bel raged.

Letty stomped her foot and turned sharply to walk away. Tears threatened to spill, but she held herself in check as she marched off.

 

* * * * *

 

Bel was about to throw caution to the wind and follow her. He knew he was behaving possessively and irrationally, and he knew why. He was supposed to hope Letty would make a good marriage and thwart her guardians’ attempt to match her to their son, Thomas. He should hope she would collect any number of beaus all vying for her hand. However, he didn’t, and he finally admitted to himself the reason behind his angst. He was in love with his little one. He loved her, in fact, to distraction!

All he had to do was declare himself, for he believed deep inside, truly believed, she was in love with him as well. At first, he thought, it was merely because she admired him—was grateful to him, but her kiss had told him otherwise.

Now was the moment. He would declare himself!

“Viscount,” Bourriene called.

Belfort turned to find both Boney and Bourriene standing there, apparently pleased to get him alone, and bowed once again to Bonaparte.

Bourriene spoke first, but Bel was aware of Boney’s penetrating stare. “You are enjoying your stay in Paris?”

“Oui, very much so. The city is all happily festive once again…as it once was,” Belfort answered carefully.

“Ah, oui, but the rabble,” Bonaparte said on a grim note. “I shall always be devoted to freedom, but it must be with order. I will not tolerate the flouting of authority by the rabble.”

“The First Consul has always deplored mob rule,” Bourriene added.

“The First Consul is most wise,” Bel replied. “In fact, it is astounding that anyone could even contemplate the terrible thing that was attempted the other evening.”

Bonaparte raised his brows and appeared taken aback. He placed his hand inside his dark velvet cutaway coat and his dark eyes narrowed as he looked at the viscount. “Indeed, my advisors seem to believe it was the work of anarchists and Chouans. We have already arrested many known anarchists, and they will be dealt with.”

“I see,” the viscount answered gravely, wondering if there was something underlying to this conversation.

“Do you, my lord, have a theory?” Once again, Bonaparte was staring into Bel’s eyes.

“I? Why no, sir. I am afraid I am not one of those interested in the intrigues of politics.”

“Odd…I have been told you have a great many friends in the Home Office of your country,” Bourriene stuck in casually.

“As do most aristocrats in England. There is nothing in that,” the viscount returned easily, showing no concern.

The First Consul inclined his head and moved off, Bourriene following quietly as Bel chewed his bottom lip.

“Good God, Bel, what was Boney saying to you? I had a bad feeling…a bad feeling, I tell you,” Fitz said as he stepped up to his cousin.

“I believe he was simply trying to discover my lay, perhaps no more than that,” the viscount answered.

“Yes, well, Charles Pichegru has been arrested and charged with plotting against Boney’s life. Did he tell you that? I’ll warrant he didn’t,” Fitz said on a hushed note.

“What’s that you say?” Charles came in on this last. “How do you discover these things, Fitz?”

“People talk, I listen,” Fitz said superiorly. “He was arrested in the afternoon and taken to the Temple for questioning. Some are taking odds that he will be hanged without a trial.”

“Damn,” Charles said. “I never met him, but by all accounts, he is a decent sort.”

“Therein lies his problem. The English are fond of him, and the French are bound to conclude that the English were behind it all.”

“Time to get out of Paris,” Fitz said. “Only reasonable thing to do to protect Aunt Fanny and our little Letty.”

“You may be correct, Fitz. I had a strange sensation when Boney looked at me a few moments ago,” Bel agreed. “Indeed, we shall have the ladies begin packing, and send Lady Marling’s coach and whatever English servants accompanied her on ahead with Toddle and Heckson. Indeed, Heckson can take charge and have everything waiting for us in Le Havre, as my vessel must be there by now.”

“Your ship large enough for another coach and the extra horses?” Fitz asked.

“No, Heckson must hire a ship for Lady Marling’s coach and prime bloods,” Bel answered. “But no more now…” Bel looked around. “Indeed, I do believe we are being watched…as is Lady Liz. I’ll pull John Darcy aside and make certain his plans to escort her out of France have been finalized. I am concerned her connection to us will have been noted, thus putting Lady Liz in danger.”

“No other attempt at abduction has been made. I wonder if Bourriene has given up on that score?” Charles said.

“Bourriene,” Fitz answered. “Our Letty was on the mark. He wanted her. She rejected him. He doesn’t take well to rejection, and has done this sort of thing in the past…taken what he wants. He may still try unless Darcy can squirrel her away without anyone noticing.”

“Fitz, you are a store of information,” Bel said. “I knew your presence would be invaluable.”

Fitz beamed and then sighed. “Look at that dashed tulip fawning over Letty again. She looks just about ready to lose her temper!”