Tension filled the air of Paris. Giarden turned the tide of sympathy to Eloise, but neither Marc Pierre or Lenister thought the goodwill would extend long to Lenister. He stood for everything they hated.
“Damnation, man! Do you not believe that I looked into your past before you arrived?” Marc Pierre growled at him. “You are well known in Paris. Do you not know I suspect you have bribed everyone who has had any connection to your children? I know you saw them on your last visit. I know you well have paid for their extra food and comforts.”
“And that is frowned upon? What kind of man…”
“Ah, think, my friend,” Marc Pierre interrupted him. “If it was seen as an act of love for a man’s children, but it is not how it is looked upon in France. It would be seen as an act of treason once Giarden is through with you. I would wager it will begin against you if you are not gone from Paris by midday tomorrow. He will not waste time. He cannot afford to. Once he deals with Eloise, he will realize quickly she has no intentions of following his directive and will not be used in the manner he wants.”
A tide of fear surged through Lenister. “After those words, you want me to leave? I will never abandon her. Never. I promised her.”
“Giarden has made it impossible for you to do both, my lord,” Marc Pierre pointed out. “Do you want your children to return to England? Or stay and try to regain your wife? Giarden is a clever man. He will hide Eloise until she is needed. Her presence will be all he requires.”
“Do not stop with those words, Bernard!” Lenister sneered. “You profess you love Eloise as a sister and you would allow her to be treated in this manner! What kind of man are you?”
Marc Pierre lunged at Lenister, knocking him down on the floor. Marc Pierre was a tall man, but Lenister was taller and more muscular. Lenister pushed back and used his foot to kick Marc Pierre off him. In one swift motion, Lenister stood and pulled Marc Pierre up by his collar.
“Out with it! I’ve had enough of half-truths and lies. There is more going on here than what Eloise believes. I’m no fool. Everything…everything that happened to Eloise before the Revolution makes no sense. You know, don’t you? You know the truth.
“Seamus told me that you are the third wheel in the network. I have to ask myself why. Why? Why would you extend yourself to the danger of being caught? You want to know what I believe? I think you did so for your own benefit. You are an ambitious sort. It may have begun with the hunt for your niece but it changed. Ah, yes!” Lenister released Marc Pierre and slung him backwards. Rubbing his lips and chin, Lenister thought for a brief moment. “It is making sense now. No one is safe in all this chaos. I would wager any in power has someone who might find themselves endangered. Is that what you offered…a connection to freedom if threatened?”
“Do not think you intimidate me, my lord.” Marc Pierre straightened himself out as he regained his balance. He looked straight into Lenister’s eyes. “I am no monster. Eloise whispered to me to go to America after all this is over. I would never leave my home. I love my country. The dream to go to America was always Luc’s. It was never mine. My allegiance has always been to the Revolution. Do not mistakenly believe that has changed.
“And you are wrong about knowing the truth surrounding Eloise.” Marc Pierre shook his head. “I believe Luc discovered the whole of the truth before his death, but he did not tell me. Andre perhaps. It may never be known, but you are right in the fact I have used our network with a purpose.”
Marc Pierre walked to the window facing the courtyard. The only sound was the clicking of his boots against the wood floor. He stood and watched out the window.
“You understand little of the frustration that brewed within France. As most aristocrats, the frustration was ignored until it festered over to a revolt. You are a military man. You should well understand there are no bloodless revolutions.
“When I attended school here in Paris, I met many of the men that now lead France. It was understood that there would be sacrifices, but the intention was to keep the innocent lives lost to a minimum. Much has been lost in a paranoia of a few. It is because of this paranoia that I have allowed the network to continue.
“I did not choose to take the path leading the people. I choose to lead men into battle. The military was a better fit for me. There is much before us in protecting France, as you well know.
“But do you think I’m unfeeling? I would never turn my back to Eloise. I never have. I searched for months for Rosabel. I finally found de Mortiere’s family. The daughter, Giselle, held what was left of her family outside Reims on a small farm. Her mother, a couple of her maids, her younger sister, and the wet nurse who was to have seen to the care of Rosabel. It surprised me to find that before the revolution began de Mortiere set in motion for the baby to be cared for. It did make no sense to me if Eloise’s words were true. She has always claimed she had not been touched by either man.
“But Calognac had to have thought the child to be his. Otherwise, the heartless fiend would have fed the baby to the dogs. Instead, the child seemed to have been well cared for and protected, especially by Giselle. I believed Giselle, for she and Eloise were like sisters. Unfortunately, the baby died less than two months before I found them. Sickness. There was nothing she could have done. They had no medicine or doctor. I chose to help them escape because of their care for Eloise’s daughter. The whole group. Seven in total. They were the first we helped to cross the Channel, but not the last.
“I have no desire to see any innocent lose their life. There is little that I can do, but I did what I could. I have a few loyal men that I trust. In this time, we have helped a few officials high in power. No one is safe now in Paris. All it takes is one denunciation. Then a man or woman—even a child now—is doomed. Everyone is walking a tightrope even as we speak.”
“I well understand,” Lenister became calm and said thoughtfully. “That Robespierre allowed Danton and Camille’s executions took me by surprised. If the leaders of the revolutions are not safe from the guillotine, no one is. I understand Robespierre grew up with Camille and was even godfather to his son.”
“Robespierre even allowed the execution of Camille’s wife,” Marc Pierre offered in agreement of Lenister’s statement. “It is his paranoia that is bothersome.”
“Paranoia,” Lenister mumbled. “Paranoia…”
Lenister repeated it again. His eyes illuminated on the word. “Paranoia. That is it!”
“Paranoia?” Marc Pierre looked at Lenister questioningly.
“Don’t you understand?” Lenister squeezed tight his fist and shook it slightly in front of his face. Hope surged through him. “That is the answer! We can use Robespierre’s paranoia against Gairden.”
* * * *
Eloise could not say that she wasn’t shocked that Giarden had brought her to his home. He had clearly made his intention known to her when he made his demands. She fully comprehended and was under no illusion. She needed only to stall his intent. She wanted only to receive word of Lenister and the children’s safety. Then…then she could do what she must.
In the distance, she heard the clock strike two o’clock when Giarden escorted her from the courthouse in an open carriage. Along the Paris streets, death carts rumbled. The somber wheels of the tumbrils carried the condemned through the crowds who cried out to the prisoners in shrill tones that echoed throughout her.
The carriage rode past a church where a crowd gathered, stomping their feet in unison. A sudden misgiving encompassed her. She recognized the streets from her previous mercy missions. Oh, my God, he’s taking me to the executions!
Mortally stricken, she pleaded with the man beside her. “Please do not take me there. I cannot…” Her voice faded.
With a grave smile, he gestured for the driver to turn. “I believe I will retire to my home,” he said, though she heard the condemnation in his voice for her weakness. He gripped her arm and pulled her to him. “Against my judgment, I will give to you this for today, but be war
ned—you must prepare yourself. You must learn not to dwell upon the deaths, but on the beginning of our new nation. It is for the betterment of all.”
She fell into a silence. She understood well his warning, but she found it impossible to accept. For now, she had no choice. She wondered why he thought after Lenister and the children were safe she would support his mad scheme. Though, his reasoning mattered little in the end.
On her arrival, Giarden had deposited her in a chamber that she assumed was assigned to be hers. The room itself was not elaborate, but it was the bed that caused nausea to grip her. Laying on the four-post bed, a silk nightgown had been placed. The covers had been turned down. He had left little question to where his thoughts lay.
Thankful only that he had left her in peace, if only for a short time, she had to think. There had to be a way out of this mess, but she could think of none. Lost in her thoughts, the knock on the door took her by surprise, but it shouldn’t have. Giarden had given her a reasonable time to collect herself, but he would wait no longer. That Eloise sensed.
Eloise answered the summons with all her resolve. To her surprise, she had been shown into an empty dining room, but it would not be for long. An elaborate dinner had been readied. Candles burned on the table with a bottle of wine in the center. Two places had been set on the table, china and silverware. Refusing to sit, she waited by the window and stared blankly out into a void.
It would be dark soon. She briefly speculated where her husband would be at this moment. Holding tightly to his children…Miranda?
In the midst of her fluttering thoughts, she heard the door open and close. She turned around to look at the man who had separated her from her husband and the life she discovered too late she desired. She frowned, reprimanding herself for the welling self-pity.
Following an awkward silence, Giarden walked towards her. Despite herself, she took steps backwards. He laughed at her, as if her actions would stop him. Then a small frown formed.
“No more games, Eloise.” He spoke her name in the same manner as one before him. Marquis de Mortiere used the tone when he informed her that she was his to do what he willed with her.
The marquis and his son, she had outmaneuvered, but both the marquis and Calognac had other motives, answered to different rules. To de Mortiere, she was an end to some secret means. To this day, she didn’t understand their actions, but it had allowed her to escape their touch.
She had quickly assessed that whatever news the marquis awaited concerning her allowed him to give her to his son as a bride. She had assumed at the time the marquis had secured her legitimacy. There could be no other answer. Yet a lingering doubt persisted. Why would he have gone through so much trouble when other eligible woman in France would have brought more of a dowry?
The Vicomte de Calognac had been easier to decipher. The arrogant, haughty aristocrat. The embellishment of all the revolution hated. She had been under no illusions with the man. He took enjoyment hurting others. She would have been no different. His rigid rules she openly violated. But the question remained—why had he accepted Rosabel as his daughter to his father?
She shook her head. She couldn’t regress into the past. She needed her wits about her.
“There is no need to rush, Citizen Giarden,” she uttered with all that was left of her self-control. “I believe the agreement was I was to receive word of my husband’s safety and the children. Then…and only then would I allow…”
“Allow?” Giarden questioned. He turned and waved an open arm around the room. “Look around you, Citizeness. It is only you and I. I believe I have held up my end of the bargain. Your husband’s bastard children and mistress are back in his control. There is no need to delay.”
“Don’t,” she whispered, retreating back against the wall. “You gave your word. I will not give to you what you want if you force me now. I need to know they are safe.”
Giarden’s lips edged upward in a malevolent grin. He edged toward her, giving her no escape. “You do not trust me. After all I have done for you.”
“Done for me? You have ruined my life. Taken from me the only thing that matters,” she said with more inflection than she meant to reveal and trying desperately to ignore her weakening legs. “Understand well, Citizen Giarden, if you don’t uphold your word, I will denounce all the first chance I’m allowed.”
Suddenly, he slammed her hard against the wall. Pinning her shoulders with his forearm, he leaned over her face and uttered harshly, “Who are you to dictate to me your actions? Do you think there’s anything you can do at this point? I have all I need, even if no one ever sees your lovely face again. It is you who should see well that I’m satisfied and…”
He pressed his elbow into her neck. Releasing his hold, Eloise fell to the floor and gasped for breath.
“And never threaten me again. You will find I have methods to convince you to do as you are told.”
She faltered only momentarily until a rage emerged within her over his threats and the fear he created. Rising back to her feet, her eyes flamed. She pushed back against him with all her strength, with all the years of frustration, hurt, and pain. She pushed him again and again.
“Do your worst! Do you not believe I have faced far worse than anything you could ever do to me? There is nothing you can do that will do anything worse to me than I have already suffered. I have watched one tortured in front of me, unspeakable suffering, crying for his life as his soul ebbed out of his body. I have had my child ripped from my arms, never to be seen again. And you have seen to the last. The only glimpse of happiness in my life you have taken from me.
“I am done with any lamenting over hope for myself. My heart is desolate. I am ready for death. Death will be a release from this world…from men such as yourself. Do you think I have not seen the likes of ones such as yourself? You wanted equality. Now you have it, for you are as cruel or crueler than any man I have encountered.
“You have done your job well, Citizen Giarden. You have succeeded in taking all hope from me.”
She glanced frantically around the room, her chest heaving rapidly. Then she lunged for a knife on the table. Not for Giarden…no…it was for herself. She had not lied. Hope did not live within her. She would not allow Giarden the satisfaction of humiliating her. She had nothing else to lose. She had lost everything in her life that ever meant anything to her.
She had asked for so little. She wanted only to love and be loved in return. Instead, she had been used in one form or another. Her father deserted her; her uncle gave her to the despicable marquis. Luc…she had Luc…but she had known…Calognac made sure she had known Luc had betrayed her. She had never told another soul. Luc had been detained first by Calognac as he scoured the countryside for her. Threatened, Luc disclosed her whereabouts. To save his life, he betrayed her and their child.
In the end, though, Calognac learned that it had been Luc’s child she carried. Luc could have escaped well before Calognac caught up with him once more, but he had not. Often, Eloise wondered if guilt played upon Luc’s soul…for she knew well Calognac spoke the truth to her over Luc’s betrayal. Luc confessed to her before he breathed his last breath and begged forgiveness…
Forgiveness…she, too, would need forgiveness. Her hand gripped tightly to the knife. She saw nothing before her, only a release. Now perhaps she would be able to hold her child…if God forgave her only for a moment…she wanted only to hold her daughter.
Her eyes closed shut as her hands readied for a final thrust into her chest. She saw him…Gerard…the one who held her heart…Pray forgive me, my love. My love…
Then before her, the door burst open. Cries emerged. Chaos ensued. She was swiftly surrounded.
“Eloise! Good Gawd! No!” “Stop her!” “Eloise!”
She froze. Then she felt hands go around hers, taking the knife out of her hand.
Eloise couldn’t think or breathe. Suddenly, she felt hands caress her face and wipe back tears that flooded from her eyes. Was sh
e dead? She didn’t know, for she heard a voice through the haze. It called to her. She knew the voice.
“Eloise, my love, my life. Look at me. Look at me!”
She looked up as commanded. Slowly, through the fog, she saw a face emerge before her…such a handsome face. She uttered in a voice no louder than a whisper, “Gerard? It can’t be.”
“Yes, yes, it is me,” he said between the kisses he placed on her lips, her cheeks, her eyes. “Oh, my God! I told you I would not leave you.”
She reached up and felt his face, his arms and back to his face. She glanced around as the room came back into focus. French soldiers filled the room. Marc Pierre stood beside Giarden, whose hands were tied behind his back.
She looked back at her husband. Her confusion must have emanated from her eyes.
“It is over. We are going home. We are going back to England,” he told her, embracing her tightly. “The Republic has arrested Citizen Giarden for treason. The children and Miranda have already left with Seamus. We have our own carriage waiting. We are leaving tonight without delay.”
Eloise wasn’t certain she heard correctly. She cared only that she was back in his arms, being carried out of the house and into a carriage. He did not leave her, but held her tightly against him.
Never in his life had Lenister known true fear, fear that grips your soul and meshes your heart to a halt. He had in that moment…the moment Marc Pierre led a group of gendarme to arrest Citizen Giarden…the moment his eyes locked on a knife in Eloise’s hands.
It did not take much for Marc Pierre to convince Robespierre of Giarden’s planned conspiracy. Why else would have Giarden gone to such lengths? What purpose would Giarden have other than to gain support for himself? With Eloise by Giarden’s side, Giarden would indeed have the means to become the most powerful man in France. Eloise would have been the epitome of all that the revolution stood for…without question, a threat to Robespierre’s rule. It took Robespierre only a moment of thought. Then he ordered Giarden’s immediate arrest.
Broken Legacy (Secret Lives Series) Page 18