The French Duchess

by Rue Allyn

  “That was before you so foolishly confided in Napoleon.”

  “How did you know?”

  “How I discovered your betrayal is irrelevant. You’ve made the emperor more cautious, thus the task is more difficult now that he has set more guards in place and employed a pair of tasters.”

  “Then I cannot possibly poison him.”

  “No, your grace, you cannot. You or your cousin will have to slit the emperor’s throat.”

  Marielle sucked in a breath. “I would never be able to escape the guards before the murder was discovered.”

  “You should have considered that before you rendered poison useless as a weapon. I suggest you resign yourself to being hung as a murderess. The knowledge that your aunt is safe will have to console you.”

  “Planning this kind of murder will take more than two days.”

  “What a pity two days is all you have. The emperor is investigating your story, but investigations take time, so the deed must be done before he can amass enough evidence to discover the truth. I told him your fable about a plot to kill him is simply the outrageous lie of a woman whose husband has strayed.” The woman’s eyes gleamed. “It is not surprising really that Richard has turned to me for consolation, when all know his wife to be a strumpet.”

  Since Mari was not his wife, Cochinat’s attempt to foster jealousy failed. Richard would never involve himself with such a woman. Mari eyed the pistol, which held distressingly steady. “Then Napoleon does not believe either of us.”

  “Yet. And you will ensure he is dead before that can change.”

  “No.”

  “You refuse? You would sign your aunt’s death warrant and that of the so-charming Captain Campion?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Oh, that is right. You do not know that Captain Campion has been arrested on charges of rape and spying. In his frustration over his wife’s behavior, he turned to me. However, I refused him, and he tried to force me. I claimed also that I had been in his rooms looking for papers that the captain stole from the emperor’s office.”

  “Ridiculous. Napoleon would never leave such documents where you could find them.”

  “True,” she agreed and lifted a packet of folded foolscap with her free hand. “But my Prussian friend was not so careful. I was able to find all I needed to incriminate him and a number of others leading to Napoleon in a plot to assassinate the Bourbon family, starting with Louis XVIII.”

  Mari forced herself to appear calm while she seethed. It was true. Malveux’s targets included the Bourbons as well as Napoleon.

  “You’ll never succeed.”

  Madame shrugged. “If the plan fails, I will not be here. I’ve been well paid and will absent myself the moment news is heard of Bonaparte’s death. Too bad you and your cousin will be accused of the deed. No one can help you. The captain languishes in custody, awaiting the emperor’s judgment. I understand that Napoleon will receive bad news from England. News that might cause him to make an example of an Englishman who accosted a woman of the imperial court.”

  Mari bit her lip and refrained from asking any of the myriad questions swirling in her mind. Questions would tell madame more than Mari wanted her to know.

  “So you see,” the woman continued, “you have no course but to kill Napoleon. Even confiding in him will not help you, since he doubts your story.”

  Madame was right, curse her. “I will do it.”

  “Mari, you cannot,” René objected.

  “Hush. Protest will serve no purpose. I can, and I will slit Napoleon’s throat. However, I want something in exchange.”

  “We already give you your aunt’s life.”

  “That was before. Now that my death is a certainty, you must arrange for René and Captain Campion to return safe to England.”

  “I won’t leave you.”

  “Don’t be absurd, René. Your mother will need you. And the captain does not deserve to suffer for my mistakes.” No one deserved to suffer for that, and she’d made so very many mistakes.

  “I may be able to arrange for horses, but I cannot release the captain.”

  “He will be released if you change your story.”

  “And make myself known as a liar? Non. For the present, I have the trust of the emperor and his court.”

  “I can get the key to the dungeons,” René offered. “As an undersecretary, I can order an inventory of all household items on the excuse of preparing for the emperor’s departure.”

  “Bien. I will have the horses ready behind the stables on the twelfth at midnight. So many messengers come and go at odd hours, no one will give two saddled horses a passing thought. René and the captain can escape in the confusion as soon as the court learns of Napoleon’s death. Your grace, I will arrange for the emperor to be alone and unguarded in his quarters by eleven that night. You will have that hour to perform your task. Fail or even succeed after midnight, and our deal is void. All of you, your aunt included, will suffer.”

  “I understand completely. Now, I would like to retire. If I am to murder Napoleon, I will need my rest.”

  Cochinat grinned. “Of course. Bonsoir. your grace.” Still holding the pistol, she curtsied then left.

  Once the door closed, Mari turned to René. “You must poison the pigeons tonight and get that key.”

  “Then you do not plan to murder Napoleon?”

  “Of course not. But we must be away as quickly as possible. I will visit Richard and let him know the plan so he can be ready. You must find a way to let Napoleon know what has occurred and plead our case for a speedy solution and his aid.”

  “You are certain we can trust Napoleon?”

  “I see no other alternative. And relying on his aid is better than guaranteeing his soldiers’ armed pursuit.”

  “Very well. I still have doubts but will act as if I do not. However, I cannot do anything until morning, and searching the dungeons will take time.”

  “That is a shame, but the delay will give us time to prepare. Go now and make what preparations you need, as I will.”

  “I cannot thank you enough for what you’ve done, Mari.”

  “We aren’t done yet.”

  “Get some rest, cousin.”

  “If I can, I will. You must do the same.”

  She watched him nod and leave, then she began to pace the floor. She should try to sleep, but she knew she wouldn’t. The thought of Richard at the mercy of French jailers and guards chilled her to the bone. When had she come to care so much what happened to him? Was it because she had made love with him? Nonsense, she cared no more about Richard Campion than she did any other innocent man.

  Yes, but you don’t make love with every other innocent man. Stop wasting time. With Campion imprisoned, it was up to her to save all their lives. The first step was to speak with Richard and Napoleon.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It took long, nerve-wracking hours before René could obtain the keys to the surprisingly extensive dungeons at Fontainebleau. They wasted five more hours trying to find which cell held Richard. They’d almost given up when Mari had the brilliant idea of having Esme follow the servants who took food to the prisoners.

  Mari did everything she could to maintain her calm while René paced the length of her sitting room. Finally a note arrived.

  Madame,

  The prisoner you asked about is not in the dungeon. He is being held in the attics above the Trinity chapel. The vicar is the only guard. No one would know the prisoner’s location were it not for the vicar’s fondness for German ale. He has ordered twice the amount he usually requests. I have left a copy of the attic keys under a loose stone at the rear end of the chapel nearest the left side of the door.

  Esme

  “What does it say?”

  Mari explained to René as she consigned the note to the flames and watched it burn to ash.

  “Excellent. We can go get him now.”

  René was still too impulsive.

&nbs
p; “No, Richard will have to wait. We must appear at dinner in a few minutes. Madame will begin to suspect if we do not attend, and it will raise too many eyebrows.”

  René sighed. “You are right. Now that I think on it, your captain could not be held in a worse location.”

  Mari’s stomach turned and a cold sweat broke out on her back. They had to be able to rescue Richard.

  “Why?”

  “Because nothing is farther from the stables than the Trinity chapel. To get the captain, we must negotiate not only the rooms and corridors leading to the chapel but the long stairway to the attics and find the one in which he is lodged. Then do that all again plus cover the distance to wherever our mounts may be. And all without being discovered, or if seen, without being suspected.”

  “Then escape may not be possible unless Napoleon offers help. Were you able to speak with him?”

  René shook his head. “I was able to sneak a note into a document that I handed directly to him. The only acknowledgment he gave was a slight nod, and that might not even have been intended for me. However, I was able to take care of the pigeons.”

  “One less problem to worry about. We shall just have to pray that Napoleon will be able to communicate with us before he retires and pretends I murdered him.”

  In the distance, the bell rang, calling Bonaparte’s guests to the evening meal.

  “We’d best go down to dinner.”

  René offered his arm. “It will be difficult to act as if nothing out of the ordinary has occurred.”

  “Indeed,” Mari agreed. “We must think what story to put about to explain the absence of my husband.”

  “Perhaps we should wait before saying anything. Madame Cochinat may already have started rumors.”

  “I’m sure such rumors would not reflect well on Richard. We must do what we can to counter them and put on a brave face.”

  But maintaining a calm outward façade was even harder than Mari imagined, for the moment she walked into the reception area where guests gathered before dinner, a hated voice spoke in her ear.

  “Ma chère Marielle, what a pleasure to see you, and without your inconvenient new husband.”

  “Malveux.” In her surprise, she dropped her hand from René’s arm.

  “What are you doing here?” Beneath his smile René bristled.

  “Why, serving my emperor, Mr. Truffkill, just like you. Non?”

  René bowed his head in acknowledgment.

  Malveux took Mari’s hand and brushed a kiss over her glove.

  She moved to resume her hold on René, but Malveux increased the strength of his grip painfully. He exerted a small pull, and she was forced to take his arm or cause a scene. With Richard in danger, the last thing she wanted was to draw more attention to herself.

  “Surely you will forgive me, Mr. Truffkill, for taking this lovely lady away from you. But I wish to renew my acquaintance with my old friend, and our reminiscences can be of no interest to you.”

  He drew Marielle away to a settee in a quiet corner.

  The whole exchange looked like nothing more than one suitor gaining favor over another. Marielle had no need of Malveux’s warning grip to tell her to behave as if that were the truth. So she smiled and tittered with inconsequential chatter as they took a seat on a low-backed bench when instead she wanted to heave. She put her hand on his chest near his shoulder to keep him from coming too close. He leaned in against her palm and brought his mouth close to her ear, forcing her to yield and give the appearance of welcoming his intimacy.

  “Your touch reminds me of how wonderful it was to have you in my arms,” he whispered, “but do not think to distract me from my purpose with seduction.”

  “I would rather seduce a pig. Now stop making a spectacle of us both.”

  She pushed with one hand and gave his arm hidden by their bodies a vicious pinch.

  He backed off, but above his broad smile his eyes hardened. “I only seek to help you maintain the appearance of a faithless woman that I understand you have cultivated here.”

  “I need nothing from you.”

  He took her hand and toyed with her fingers, suggesting to all who watched that she felt comfortable with his touch. “Ah, but you need my help quite desperately, do you not? Coming here has been most inconvenient. I am very upset to learn from Madame Cochinat how you bungled a good opportunity by trying to enlist Napoleon’s help. Foolish girl. You must realize that you have no alternative but to do my bidding.”

  She was a dead woman regardless of what she did. The most she could hope for was to save the lives of those who counted on her.

  “I still have until tomorrow night.”

  “Perhaps, but act sooner and you may yet save the captain from death at Napoleon’s order.”

  “Napoleon would never do that. He wants too much from the English and would lose all hope of their aid if he ordered Richard’s death.”

  “The emperor is famously fickle, as you have learned. I suspect that it is only Bonaparte’s fondness for pretty women that keeps you from sharing the captain’s prison. I can arrange for that, if you prefer it to following my orders.”

  Mari suppressed a shiver and stood, putting distance between her and Malveux, though he retained his implacable grip on her hand. “Thank you, no. Now if you will excuse me, I must find Mr. Truffkill. In my husband’s absence, I am promised to that young man for dinner.”

  “I think I have made my point.” Malveux smiled wolfishly and released her.

  She gave the smallest curtsy proper manners would allow then marched off in search of René. She found him just as the butler appeared.

  “Mesdames et monsieurs, I regret that his imperial highness is unable to attend tonight’s dinner. Mon Général Bertrand will take over as host.”

  Much whispering and murmuring was heard as the guests followed their host into the dining hall. “Ask me to walk in the gardens after dinner. We must talk,” Mari whispered to her cousin.

  René nodded and assisted her to sit at the table. For the next eight courses she gave herself over to conversing with the diners on either side of her with the appearance that she had not a care in the world. But she cared a great deal what happened to Richard and her family. She would to everything possible to save them, even if this was to be her last supper.

  • • •

  Richard moved his rook to queen’s eight then sat back and sipped the excellent vintage the vicar had brought along with the meal and Napoleon himself. The wine was a welcome change from the German beer the vicar preferred. “Your move, your highness.”

  “Bah.” The deposed ruler pushed the table away, jostling the board and pieces and sending a bishop toppling to the floor. “You will have checkmate in five moves. Did no one tell you the emperor is supposed to win?”

  He drank deeply then refilled his cup, draining the bottle and calling loudly for more wine.

  “But I am English, your imperial highness. The English never cheat, even in the name of courtesy. You know that. Campbell says it is one of the reasons you like us so much. You can count us to do the honorable thing above the expedient one.”

  The Corsican grinned while his cup was refilled, and the vicar left a new bottle on the table. “Did you spread the rumors as I requested?” he asked the clergyman.

  “Oui.”

  “Good. Bring three more bottles then leave us. I will call when I require more assistance.”

  The vicar bowed and wordlessly followed instructions.

  “Nonetheless,” Richard continued, “the English are expedient in battle. Witness the sacrifice I made earlier of my rook.”

  “There is expediency, and there is wisdom. Wellington never sacrificed troops when he could avoid it. In fact, he went to a great deal of trouble in Spain to avoid such a sacrifice.”

  “I suspect you know just how different a chess piece is from the life of even one soldier, so I will give you that point. However, I am curious about what brings an emperor to dine with a prisoner.
”

  Napoleon pushed back from the table and pulled his chair over to the brazier in the far corner of the room. “Much as I enjoy a good, and honest, game of chess, the time has come to speak of dangerous matters. Please join me. Even in Fontainebleau the nights can be chilly. Are you warm enough? Has my vicar provided adequate food and clothing, water for your toilette?”

  “I am quite comfortably imprisoned.” Richard gestured to the elegant furnishings, the mirror, the rugs. “All this comfort makes me suspect that my imprisonment is more for appearances than a rush to justice.”

  Bonaparte nodded over his wine. “I do like the English. You, sir, are no fool. Wellington would do well to add you to his staff.”

  Richard nodded, but he would decline the staff post if it was offered. “To what purpose all this subterfuge?”

  “I wish to catch a rat. Several, in fact.”

  “Ah, so you did not believe Madame Cochinat’s claim that I am spying on you.”

  “No. Madame is one of the most beautiful liars I have ever met. But she has no reason to love me. Which is why I keep her at court. Rats seek out other rats, and Madame Cochinat attracts the biggest, juiciest vermin.”

  “Malveux.”

  “Oui. I have suspected him of disloyalty for some time, but I did not anticipate he would attempt to have me murdered. I must thank your lovely, ahem, wife for her warning.”

  Richard wasn’t about to confirm to one of the greatest womanizers in Europe that he had no legal claim on Marielle. In fact he’d begun to enjoy their ruse and wondered what a real marriage with her Grace of Stonegreave would be like. It would never happen, of course. Too much stood between them. For now, it was his job to keep her safe, and she was safer with Napoleon believing her married than not.

  “I’m sure she will appreciate your thanks.”

  “Bien. Now to plot your escape and the arrest of Malveux and all his cohorts.”

  “As for our escape, as you call it, would it not be simplest to turn us over to the English authorities?”

  Napoleon speared Richard with a glance. “Turn an accused spy over to the country that supported his spying? I think not.”