by Wendy Bayne
To give him credit he pursed his lips for a bit and appeared to be considering it before answering. “With pleasure, my dear, I will speak to Monsieur Hughes and find out the particulars.” He kissed her cheek then looked over my shoulder sucking in his breath and beaming with approval, “Mon Dieu est si bon!”
I looked up at him and smiled as sweetly as I could, “Thank you, Monsieur Comte.” I was delighted that he liked what he saw. Now I was determined to apply all my skill to this drawing in hope of winning his favour for Emilie and my uncle.
When he left, his wife smiled, “I hope you don’t mind my presumption of calling you a friend after such a short acquaintance, but I have vowed to myself never to be without a place to retire to if ever our country is turned on its head again. She looked at my aunt with nervous anticipation.”
Aunt Emilie smiled, recognizing that fear of being disenfranchised, “You and your family will always be welcomed in our home here or in England.”
The comtesse sighed with relief, reaching out to clutch Emilie’s hands. “Merci, Madame Hughes…” A tear glistened in her eye and they both hugged. It was then I that realised her survival during the war must have been a near thing.
I returned my attention to the drawing while Emilie talked away in French they had finally, as in all conversations between women, got around to gossiping. Emilie ventured to ask about the dark man. “Madame Comtesse, there was a very attractive man at the Embassy party the other night, perhaps you’ve met him. His first name I believe is Gabriel. He’s very tall, dark hair and eyes and dark skin…I believe he may have come from the Indies or even Spain.”
She crinkled her brow before answering “Ah yes, Gabriel, the dark angel of Paris! All the women find this man broodingly handsome and mysterious.” She licked her lower lip then shrugging continued. “But he accepts very few invitations yet seems to appear at all the best parties and salons without invitation. No one knows what his name is other than Gabriel. He can be very charming when he wants to be and very how should I put it, cruel? Yes, that is it, cruel… like he hates us all.” She brushed at her gown as if to remove bits of debris. Then she continued, “But for the most part he is quiet, he watches everything and everyone like he is searching for something.”
Emilie took a leap of faith and posed a question, “Do you know if he’s related to Don Francisco de le Rosa? There seems to be an uncanny resemblance.”
Marie Esther pouted as she played with the rose she held in her lap. “I do not recall ever having seen him in the company of Don Francisco. The Don attends even fewer parties than Gabriel and they both seem to prefer gentleman’s clubs to mixed company.”
I interrupted her, “Madame la Comtesse, there is also a young Englishman with curly blond hair in Paris, his name is Ramsey Clarke. Have you seen or heard of him at all?”
She nodded frowning with dislike. “Oui, mademoiselle, I hope that he is not a particular friend of yours.”
I grimaced noticeably so she would see my own distain. “He is a former neighbour, but we lost touch with him and I would prefer to keep it that way.”
She still looked at me sceptically. “He is a nasty young man! His French is deplorable as are his manners. Do you know that he begs for invitations! He says he is looking for his sister that she was spirited away by a man to Paris and that he has come to take her home.”
I blinked and thought back to what the tweenies’ had told us about Gabriel and the blond man, “Do you believe him, madam?”
She shook her head making the curls by her cheeks dance. “No, of course not! He is just ah how you say it in English, a wastrel. If he was here looking for his sister, then why did he not apply to the Prefect or my husband for assistance?”
I nodded this time. “Touché, madame.” She smiled, and it lit up her face. She was indeed very beautiful with the porcelain complexion and colouring of Raphael’s Madonna and Child right down to the large deep liquid brown eyes that are so unusual in blondes. I turned back to my sketch when it became apparent that there was nothing else she could tell me about Ramsey. Emilie continued to gossip with her and to slip in a question about Gabriel every now and then.
But all she had to say was that Gabriel just appears and disappears at a whim. Then she stopped speaking, tipping her head to the side like she was trying to decide if she should tell us something. After looking around for her husband she reluctantly whispered, “But that man Ramsey? He did meet here with my husband once when he first came to Paris. It did not go well, I’m afraid, both men were very angry.” She paused and looked around her again. “When I asked my husband about it, he said that Ramsey was a man of business from the West Indies who was looking for new markets in Paris for his sugar and coffee, but he was impatient and wanted my husband to expedite the permits for his warehouse. Jacques is a very proud man and he took offense at the attempts to bribe him.” She bit her lip and looked around pinpointing her husband then she sighed and continued. “But I don’t believe that was the first time they had met, it was the way that they spoke to each other, it was too familiar for them to be new acquaintances.”
Emilie’s eyes widened with surprise. “You eavesdropped on them?”
Marie Esther rolled her eyes. “But of course! Every good political wife does! How else can you be a helpmate to your husband?”
Emilie let out a breathy chuckle. “Your husband cannot be bribed, that is very admirable!”
Marie Esther laughed. “Oh no, my dear, he can be bribed! But there are ways to do it that do not insult the recipient. This Ramsey did not understand this, he was in too much of hurry. Jacques was so insulted that he sulked for days. He even thought of having him arrested but was concerned that he might anger someone powerful by doing so.”
Emilie leaned forward, “Who was he afraid of?”
“He wouldn’t say.”
Emilie looked at me and we both grimaced. I finished my drawing and presented it to the Comtesse who was delighted with it. She called over her husband and he quizzed me about painting his wife, but I told him honestly that my skill in oils and watercolours fell short and that I could not do the Comtesse justice. Truth is I was not disciplined enough to practice in either medium.
After I packed up my materials and asked Michael to return them to the carriage I went looking for Miles who I found deep in conversation with his father, uncle and an older gentleman. The older man was a formidable looking standing ramrod straight as if he was a soldier on parade. I momentarily thought of my grandfather the General who had been a similar type of man. But this man had olive-toned skin, a long narrow face with a strong patrician nose. He turned as I joined them raising an eyebrow and looking down his nose at me as if I had no business being there, it was a look made to discourage me joining them, but I didn’t feel disposed to give him the satisfaction. When I didn’t leave, there was a momentary shadow of sadness in his eyes which was soon dispelled. In fact, he looked instead like a man who was used to giving orders and having them obeyed without question much like the General. I had to wonder where men like them learned such arrogance. Miles raised his head turning towards me, smiling as he reached out his hand. “Clarissa, you’re done with the Comtesse already?”
I took his arm, smiling up at him. “Yes, she was the perfect subject.”
Miles turned back to Don Francisco and introduced me. The Don was not impressed and made it known. “Perhaps Miss Turner should join her mother and the other ladies. I’m sure our conversation would only bore her.” He sneered at me giving me a barely perceptible bow as he turned his back to me.
I smiled back as genuinely as I possibly could when he looked back to see if I had left but I was sure he could see the insincerity in my eyes. “On the contrary, Don Francisco, my father encourages me to open my mind to new and complex ideas.”
He arched a brow and frowned. Making use of his considerable height he turned back to me and without hesitating said, “Then I beg to differ with your father, Miss Turner. Everyone knows that ed
ucating women is a waste of time and resources since you have neither the capacity to retain or process information like a man.” I bristled at this attack on my father and the insult to my gender.
Miles obviously felt me tense and spoke up before I could, “In that case, sir, I think our conversation is over. Excuse me, Father, Uncle, if you will excuse us, Clarissa and I shall adjourn.”
Miles tugged at my arm, but I remained firmly planted, glaring at the Don who had turned his back on us both and was speaking to the Earl and Marquis. I was livid at this point and answered him back, “It seems that your, nephew, sir has better manners than you despite him being a smuggler, pirate and a murderer.”
He stopped talking to look over his shoulder at me then at Miles, “I suggest, sir, that you take your English juguete elsewhere and school her in the art of silence.”
Miles looked murderous as his eyes narrowed trying to see the Don clearly. He took a step forward, but I wouldn’t release his arm. I knew him well enough that he would strike the Don for calling me a toy.
His father stepped to Miles’ side potentially to restrain him just as my father joined us. Both fathers looked like they were about to thrash the Don, but it was the Marquis who spoke first. “Don Francisco, I think it is in poor taste to insult the daughter and son of emissaries of the King of England. You should remember as a diplomat yourself that you never know when you might need the good graces of those who have the ear of the English King.” It was a bit of an overstatement, but his point had been made and he grinned pleasantly at the Don.
Don Francisco glowered at us and took a deep breath before responding, “Indeed, my friend, you are correct.” He looked at me nodding. “My apologies, mademoiselle, I am not used to ladies being so outspoken, it’s a failing of an old man who is not attuned to the new ways.” He tried to smile but it looked more like a grimace. Then he spun on his heel and left with his head held high and his back stiff as if he would literally march out of sight.
My father and the Earl looked astounded, it was the Earl who found his voice first, “Charles, that was bloody marvellous! But can you afford to offend a man like that!”
The Marquis reddened then smiled watching the Don disappear around the corner of a high hedge. “Maybe, maybe not. But I do so enjoy putting his pompous ass in place.” He bowed to me. “Pardon my language, mademoiselle.” I tried to hide my amusement, but I still giggled a bit until I saw my father’s expression change from puzzlement to worry as he looked to where the Don had disappeared. Then I noticed that it was not the Don but Miles’ brother Edward that had caught his attention, he was standing by the hedge watching us. Then he too turned about and walked away.
Father took a deep breath turning his attention back to us. “Charles, I appreciate you defending my daughter but are you sure that was wise?”
The Marquis waved his hand around his head in a very French gesture of dismissal. “I have known him for a very long time, we were once rivals for the same fair hand.” He laughed out loud. “She threw us both over for a fat Italian cloth merchant. We ended up getting drunk together that night. Bah, I’m not worried about Francisco, he has very little influence in my kind of commerce.” Tapping his nose. “He has no appreciation for a fine vintage, so his opinion is not respected in my circles.” He covered his mouth as he coughed and laughed at the same time.
The Earl was distracted during this conversation looking towards the hedge, so I assumed that he had seen Edward lurking there as well. He was pulling at his chin as if mulling over a course of action, then he seemed to come back to himself looking at all of us. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to speak to some gentlemen about my petition regarding Miles. Charles, would you care to join me? I think we need to expedite this venture.” Then he spoke exclusively to the Marquis as if the rest of us weren’t there. “I would just as soon get a judgment taken care of as quickly as possible and get back to England.” He licked his lips then looked quickly at my father and Miles. “When I return to England I have decided to appeal to the King directly instead of pursuing a route through the courts.”
Miles looked shocked and reached out to his father to touch his arm. He looked at Miles, heartbroken. “I can’t abide this any longer, Miles. I think Edward is aware of my intentions by now, so I need to get this done before he attempts to prevent it.” He looked at my father, “Has that Dunhill chap been removed from the embassy? I’d like to send some letters home in the diplomatic mail.”
Father nodded. “Yes, William, but surely you don’t think Edward would attempt to harm you or Miles?”
The Earl made a derogatory noise. “I don’t know. He is his mother’s child, not mine.” And with a touch of pain he added, “He has never been mine. Carolyn was a ruthless and spiteful bitch, he learned those same lessons at her teat!” He blanched as he realised what he had said in front of me. “Excuse me, Miss Turner, that was an unfortunate choice of words no matter how accurate.”
I smiled at him. “No offense taken, Lord Shellard.”
The Earl looked at Miles and his eyes softened. “I have my heir at my side and I will do everything in my power to make it official. But Miles, should I fail, you should know that not all my assets are entailed. You will inherit a considerable estate.” Miles’ eyes widened. “Don’t worry, my solicitors are aware of my wishes and have been working with your own solicitor under my employ to make sure that there can be no challenge to my will.” He chuckled then. “Edward made a vital mistake when he shifted his business to Lord Burley’s solicitor and banker, otherwise he might have had an ally in Jameson and Jameson. I have even suggested to those gentlemen that they should take on your Mr Phipps as a junior partner to ensure your good graces in the future.” He sobered then looking up at the sky which had become overcast as he continued in a subdued voice, “You will be a very wealthy man, Miles, with considerable property even without the title. Your brother will find that once I’m gone his circumstances will have improved but not near to the extent that he has envisioned.”
He patted Miles on the shoulder. “Be careful, Edward can be as spiteful as his mother.” He put a hand on Miles’ shoulder. “Also, my boy, you don’t have worry about your stepmother. She and the children are well provided for as well. The only thing I ask of you on their behalf is for you to be there to give them your counsel and support. But for heaven sakes don’t let Willy go to Oxford! And he’s NOT to be allowed to enter the Navy under any circumstances. If he insists on serving his country, then buy him a commission in the Horse Guards, anything but the Navy!” He shook his head and laughed. “The boy has it in his head to be another Admiral Nelson, it would kill her with worry if Willy ended up in that branch of the service.” Then he turned away, “Come, Charles, let’s go speak to the justices, shall we?” He and the Marquis both left chuckling and in an amiable mood.
Father glanced at Miles with concern, “You don’t think that Edward would do him harm, do you?”
Miles grimaced. “I think my brother is capable of just about anything in the right temper. But to kill our father? I don’t think so, but I really don’t know.”
Father gave him a half smile. “I should tell you that we’ve been looking at Edward for the past year regarding Lord Burley’s smuggling operation.” Miles’ face was a mask of conflicting emotion, so Father continued in a rush. “But there is nothing that points to his involvement. He and Julian seemed to have only recently renewed their friendship at Lord Burley’s behest. Did you know that Lord Burley was a good friend of Edward’s mother? He’s lost two sons and he might be using Edward because you became an agent. I cannot emphasize enough that anyone who gets in their way may have cause for concern.” He bit his lip before saying, “Miles, do you know where Lady Jane and the children are right now?”
Miles tensed, and the strain was obvious in his voice. “My father has nothing to do with our work, why…” he paused letting his thoughts catch up with what his father had said, “you think that Burley discovered my father’s i
ntention to make me his heir and he’s using Edward’s anger to enlist his aid in having me imprisoned and tortured?” He rubbed his eyes letting out a heavy sigh. Before my father could answer, Miles continued, “I suppose it could be, they know that I am working for the Crown. But do you honestly think Burley would harm Lady Jane and the children?!”
Father shook his head. “I don’t know, Miles, but my family has been repeatedly attacked.” He looked around him and I followed his gaze. I noted that Murphy was standing close by watching everything and everyone. While Michael and Jacob were in view doing the same thing as they stood near Lettie, and my mother with James and my aunts. Father was worried, it was evident from the lines of concern in his face and the alertness in his eyes. I saw him watch as Dr Jefferson and Uncle Arthur broke away from a group of men to make their way over to us. Father turned back to Miles but suddenly he looked exhausted and frustrated as he said quietly, “I think he’s capable of anything, Miles.”
Miles jerked like he had been slapped. “I have to speak to my father, Colin, he must return to England as soon as possible.”
The tension and worry that exuded from them was palpable and bone-chilling. Father grimaced. “I don’t agree, Miles, I believe that your father is safer here with us. Leaving precipitously would only cause Edward or Burley to take steps before we can determine what they might be up to, but Edward’s motivation I’m sure is more about the legitimacy proceedings than Burley’s business.”
Uncle Arthur and Dr Jefferson had reached us just in time to hear what my father had said to Miles. Uncle Arthur leaned towards Miles, touching his shoulder to get his attention, “I spoke to an old friend of mine, he’s one of Paris’s top solicitors it seems that Edward has been busy trying to muddy your father’s petition and the evidence. But oddly enough Don Francisco has been working aggressively against Edward. He has even presented additional documents to the court to support your case. I have no idea how he managed it, but he has the registry from the church where your parents were married.”