Not Forgotten

by Elizabeth Johns

  “Do you think the visitor was reporting the man I killed?”

  “Most likely,” Philip agreed.

  “Does she know it was us?”

  “Most likely. We were defending ourselves, and I would be happy to tell her so. Now we must act as if we are spending a leisurely afternoon together. It would not surprise me if there was a guard watching us at this very moment.”

  “Guards?” she asked, with what appeared to be abhorrence.

  Philip tried to keep the mockery from his face. “Yes, my dear, guards. They are posted all about the fortress. I can show them to you if you wish. What I do not know, is whether we can be seen from this angle through the fog.” He looked around and out over the water. “Do you see that boat over there?”

  She held up her hand to shield her eyes and squinted. “Yes, I believe I see a fishing boat.”

  “That would be our good Captain Frome.”

  “I see another boat further over there,” she said, pointing.

  “That could be a fishing boat, or one of her guards. Captain Frome will know and report to me later.”

  He took her hand and kissed her on the cheek.

  “Do you see someone?”

  “No, but that is for anyone who may be watching. I imagine, as we speak, Captain Frome can see us through his spyglass.”

  She smiled and gave a little wave. “Just in case,” she said with a coy grin, and batted her eyelashes for good measure.

  “Have mercy, my lady. Please tell me you did not behave in such a manner in London?”

  She slapped him on the sleeve. “I am only jesting. Must you be such an oaf?”

  “Promise me, if this all goes very wrong, you will never take up the stage,” he responded, egging her on.

  “How does your sister tolerate you?”

  “I will have you know, my sister thinks I am the best of brothers.”

  “May we return to the house, now?”

  “I have no objection, if you wish to leave. I must do some more scouting. I have never had the opportunity from this angle, and we need to be prepared for anything.”

  “I will not leave if you think there is work to be done. How may I help?”

  “You do not happen to have a drawing-book, do you?”

  “I can obtain one. My aunt offered to provide me with paints.”

  “Are you an artist?” He looked back, surprised.

  “What gently bred woman is not skilled with a brush?”

  “Clearly, you have not seen Adelaide’s efforts. Very well. Tomorrow we will return and you can draw a map for me.”

  They began the return journey, and were climbing back over the rocks towards the steps leading to the house when they saw a boat had drawn near to the shore.

  “What is he doing coming close in the middle of the day?” Philip asked, growing angry.

  “We are about to find out,” Amelia remarked.

  “We will continue around to the steps; the beach is on the other side of this outcrop.”

  They climbed back to the fork and took the other path. Lady Amelia did not complain, he noted. She simply lifted up her skirts and kept up with him.

  They reached the beach where his adventure had started, months past, and he took Lady Amelia’s arm as though they were out for a stroll. They watched the boat come even closer.

  “Do you think we can be seen from here?” she asked.

  “From certain angles, very likely. The fog is not thick enough.”

  “Why would he take such a risk?”

  “An excellent question.” Philip thought that he could see Frome, but they were still too distant.

  “Look!” Amelia said. “He is putting something into the water.”

  Philip saw an object drop, and then the boat continued on its way.

  “Continue walking, and act as though we did not notice. It will only draw more attention to it if someone is watching. It will take some time for it to wash ashore. At least the tide is still in.”

  Philip did not take his eyes from the object, and Lady Amelia walked about along the shore, picking up shells and exclaiming with well-feigned joy at such moments when she saw a crab poke its head out of the sand and scurry away, or a fish jump out of the water. At least she was not missish, he reflected.

  Finally, the bottle came close enough for Philip to retrieve it. He waded into the water a few steps and immediately grabbed it, pulling it beneath his coat.

  “Shall we return to the house? I think we have had enough sun for today. Your cheeks are quite rosy from the wind.”

  “We cannot have that, now can we? I might develop some spots!” she said with mock horror.

  Philip laughed, forgetting himself. “I already see one, just there,” he said, touching her nose and following it with a quick peck, as he might with his sister, except she was not his sister, and it had not been an act.

  Dinner that night was an intimate affair, with Meg, Waverley, Captain Elliot, her aunt, that lady’s man Lannes, and Amelia herself. Amelia had spent the remainder of the afternoon alone in her apartment, trying to sort through her feelings. It was not an easy task and she was more confused when her maid came to dress her for dinner than she had been when she began trying to think. She could easily envisage becoming fond of her aunt, filling the void left when her mother died. It was much too soon, of course to feel such things, but there had been a connection she could not ignore.

  Then, she had heard for herself evidence of her aunt having some sort of activity in the caves below, but it did not prove to her that Lisette was doing anything dreadful against England. As if that was not enough for her poor nerves, Amelia had spent the afternoon alone with Captain Elliot. Most couples did not have the luxury of spending so much time together while they were courting. She had seen the change in him when he had kissed her on the nose. In truth, it was something a brother would do to a sister, but he had not meant to do it and the shock had registered on his face—and left a stamp on her heart. It was too much to be borne.

  Now, sitting next to him at dinner, she felt shy and awkward. Her aunt’s perceptive gaze would miss nothing, so Amelia had to find a way to perform in this small, intimate setting.

  “Did you enjoy your outing today, niece? Your cheeks give you away.”

  “I did, Aunt. I have not hunted for shells on the beach in years; and the view—I long to capture it on canvas.”

  “That will be arranged. I would be pleased to own a piece of yours, if you would do me the honour. And you, Captain Elliot? Did you find any treasure?”

  “Sadly, only an old bottle washed up by the tide. Alas, there was no secret message inside.”

  Amelia tried to hide her alarm. It was as though her aunt knew. Had she been watching? She sipped at her soupe à l’oignon and studied the participants.

  Captain Elliot was smiling at her. Was this all an elaborate game? Amelia wanted to know what had been in that bottle.

  “I am certain this beach is full of surprises, if you keep looking.”

  The servants removed the soup and brought in a salade niçoise, a beautiful array of greens, tomatoes, eggs and anchovies.

  “This is delicious. I will have to discover your gardener’s secrets,” Meg said, changing the subject.

  “I believe the secret is simply sun, something France has in more abundance than your England,” her aunt said. “I am happy we have found something to please you.”

  Amelia knew Meg did not care for anchovies, so she avoided her gaze and took the opportunity to watch her aunt and the man, Lannes. He was making no secret of examining them.

  “I hope everything was in order earlier?” Amelia smiled at Lannes as she spoke. His mien was cool and she barely detected a flicker of reaction in his gaze.

  “Perfectly,” her aunt answered as she dabbed at the corner of her mouth with a napkin. “Only a business matter that was not nearly as urgent as my steward seemed to think it was.” She half-smiled. “I am sure you know how that is, Waverley.”

>   “Yes, of course,” he agreed. “What type of business are you in? We are considering joining in a new partnership with one of our army brethren.”

  “We have begun importing and exporting with the Isle of Elba,” her aunt said without hesitation. “They have succulent olives which make excellent oil, and we have superior wine and brandy, of course.”

  “I am certain your emperor appreciates having luxuries from his home,” Captain Elliot said sardonically.

  “Everyone appreciates the luxuries of France, non? We sell more to England than anywhere else. Speaking of which…” She snapped her fingers and the servants brought out a burgundy wine, then replaced the salad with a fragrant confit de canard.

  Immediately, Meg covered her nose with her napkin. “Please excuse me,” she barely managed to say before hurrying from the room.

  Aunt Lissette gave a sympathetic smile. “I will instruct my chef to make something more plain. I do forget.”

  “There is nothing to apologize for. Thankfully it is a temporary condition.” Waverley took a bite of the dish. “This duck is delicious. Please send my compliments to your chef.”

  She inclined her head and dinner conversation remained innocuous. After the duck, a small dish of chocolate soufflé was served, and Waverley excused himself to discover how Meg was feeling.

  “You will forgive me,” Aunt Lisette said as the Duke departed. “I must also deal with some business this evening. Captain Elliot will, no doubt, keep you entertained with a walk in the courtyard or a scintillating game of chess. I would be de trop with only the three of us remaining.”

  Apparently, Lannes was not considered a person. Amelia was quite certain she did not desire any more time alone with Captain Elliot, but it could not be helped. He stood up as her aunt left the room, and held out his arm to Amelia. “Shall we?”

  “Your aunt is toying with us,” Captain Elliot said in a low voice once they were alone in the courtyard.

  “I am afraid you are correct,” Amelia agreed. Walking to the wall, they stood looking out over the vast expanse of ocean. She could hear the waves crashing on to the rocks, and see a few bobbing lights from boats still out in the night. “It does not prove anything, however. I have been desperate to know what message was in the bottle. Will you please share it with me?” she asked in hushed tones.

  “Nothing of great import, I am afraid. Frome confirmed our suspicions that boats have been coming and going into the caves.”

  “It could be nothing more than her import and export business,” Amelia argued.

  “A timely, convenient cover. I will send word to Tobin to have it investigated. In my time living in the village, I have heard nothing of her dealing in spirits, legal or otherwise.”

  “That is curious. Do you think the villagers would have known? My aunt is very secretive.”

  “How could they not?”

  “I suppose you are correct. I do not know what to believe.”

  “It is a very clever reason for her to be preparing for a trip to Elba. I know there is something I am missing, I just cannot put my finger on it,” he said with a frustrated sigh.

  “Even if she were to be doing business with Napoleon, that does not mean she will be successful in helping him escape. Even if he should escape, it does not mean he will lead France again,” Amelia pointed out.

  “Both are true statements. However, we need to find out what we can.”

  “What do you propose we do next?”

  “You will help me make a map of the fortress and caves. I need to do some exploring.”

  “Do you intend to search the tunnels?”

  “The tunnels, her office, the dungeons, everywhere I can.”

  “You will get yourself killed! She would have every right to do so for your trespasses.”

  “Hush, my dear, we are now being watched.” He stepped close to her and whispered in her ear, tucking a lock of hair behind it.

  “Can you tell who it is?”

  “No, but they are too tall to be your aunt or her man. Put your arms around my neck,” he ordered.

  She did as she was told, but protested. “Is this really necessary?”

  “It might save my head later if she thinks I matter to you.”

  “Very well.” Amelia did not like how the closeness made her feel. She did not wish to react to Captain Elliot, and it was difficult to keep her emotions professional when she had never been this close to a man before. She was certain he was watching the guard, and here she was trying not to swoon! It was grossly unfair!

  “Why is he not leaving?” Captain Elliot whispered in frustration.

  “Perhaps he was ordered to stay, no matter what.”

  “Beware, I am going to kiss you.”

  She would remain detached. It was only a touching of lips, after all.

  Before she could firm her resolve, his lips were touching hers. She had never been kissed before, and it pained her to admit that this meant nothing. Beyond the tingling sensation she already felt all over, strange things began happening to her insides; she felt both hot and cold.

  The hand he placed on her back pulled her closer while his other hand traced circles on her neck. Then it cradled her cheek. Napoleon could have come upon them with a sword, and she would not have noticed.

  Seemingly without her volition, her head turned to find a better angle and her lips began to move over his.

  “What are you doing, Amelia?” He stepped back. “The guard has left.”

  If that was not the most lowering thing ever to happen to her, she did not know what was.

  “Thank goodness, I was growing exceeding uncomfortable,” she said, lifting her chin and heading back into the house and her apartments to hide, knowing she would think of ten far more clever retorts once she was in her room alone.

  Chapter 11

  Philip returned to his room and collapsed on to the bed.

  “The lady discomposed you so badly, eh?” a thick Irish brogue asked from the corner. “If I were trying to woo a lass, I would kiss her back.”

  “How the devil did you get in here?” Philip demanded, remaining on his bed with his hands over his face. The last thing he needed at this moment was to deal with an Irish rogue.

  “I told the guards I was your valet.”

  “I will have to warn La Glacier to tighten her security.”

  “Whatever takes your fancy. Are ye not going to ask why I am here?”

  “I suppose I will need a brandy for this.” Philip rose and removed his neckcloth and coat, then went to the cupboard and poured two glasses of the excellent brandy La Glacier had left for her guests.

  “How did you get in, truly?” he asked, handing Tobin a glass.

  “I walked right in. Captain Frome brought me up to the beach, and after some exploring, I followed the steps that led to the courtyard. It was a lovely conversation you and Lady Amelia were having.”

  “I should draw your cork for that,” Philip snarled.

  “Be my guest,” Tobin drawled in his thick brogue. “The Madame has quite an operation going underneath this fancy house. If you will recall, I spent some time there.”

  “Yes, I recall. One might think there would be a mite of gratefulness accorded to your rescuer.”

  Tobin grunted. “I took it upon myself to visit the cave again.”

  “Are they not guarded? I confess I have not been able to go down there alone yet.”

  “Oh, they are guarded, but I remembered their affinity for cards and good drink.”

  “It was so easy? La Glacier will not be pleased when she discovers them.”

  “That is their problem. I sent them an entire barrel with her complements. There are no prisoners down there just now.”

  “She said as much,” Philip agreed.

  “But there are supplies enough for another war.”

  “Go on,” Philip said cautiously.

  “Uniforms, guns, ammunition, swords, canons, rations, tents…”

  “Any olives?”


  “Eh?” Tobin looked at him askance.

  “Never mind. How many men are down there?”

  “A dozen?”

  “Nice work.” He went over to his travelling bag and found some writing supplies. He handed them to him. “Now, draw what you saw under there.”

  Tobin took the paper and pencil and began making a rough drawing.

  While Tobin drew, Philip sat back down and contemplated what it all meant. The rebels were far better prepared than any of them had anticipated. Wellington needed to be apprised immediately. When Tobin had finished, Philip walked to the Irishman’s side and looked over his shoulder.

  “You are confident in this?”

  “These are the areas I saw with me own eyes. I could not say what is beyond here.” He pointed to an empty space beyond the office she had taken Philip to.

  “Where are you staying?”

  “In the village, in your old room.” Tobin smirked. “The kitchen maid also seems to prefer Irishmen.”

  “You have taken up my old post?”

  Tobin inclined his head.

  “You had best be careful. If La Glacier sees you here, I may not be able to save your neck a second time.”

  “She will not see me.”

  “I think you need to deliver this message in person. I do not want it being passed to a runner.”

  “Who will watch the village?”

  “One of the other couriers can stay in your place.”

  Tobin hesitated.

  “That was an order, Lieutenant, not a suggestion. The kitchen maid will still be here when you get back.”

  “She is a bonnie lass,” Tobin said wistfully.

  “That she is, and you are welcome to her,” Philip agreed. “I will be waiting for your return with bated breath.”

  Tobin scowled at him and Philip laughed.

  “At least I know how to woo the ladies properly.”

  “I am not wooing Lady Amelia,” Philip protested.

  “Well, you had better start acting like it at least. That act out there would not have convinced a tree stump.”

  “I was trying to look out for her guards. Leave me, Lieutenant—and make sure you bring me back some useful news when I see your impertinent face again.”