Broken Legacy (Secret Lives Series)

by Colleen Connally

  Surrendering to her growing inquisitiveness, she quietly eased upward off the small cot and edged toward their conversation. Sitting around a table that held only a lantern burning, neither men seemed to notice her growing presence, engrossed in their thoughts.

  “Do we tell her?” Marc Pierre asked with his back to her.

  “Tell me what?”

  At the sound of her voice, Marc Pierre pivoted around. Lenister did not move, but looked up at his wife. A brief moment of silence ensued. A knowing glance between the two men did not go unnoticed by Eloise.

  Marc Pierre cleared his throat. “Citizen Jean-Antione Giarden met his fate. I left only after the deed was carried out. You have nothing more to fear from the man. He was unable to express any thoughts that might have resulted in more questions.”

  Relief flooded Eloise. Although she would no longer be within the reach of the French authorities, there were others she cared for who could have been affected by the reach of a denunciation, including the one before her.

  “It is good,” she answered, looking at Marc Pierre suspiciously. “You made certain of it?”

  Marc Pierre frowned. “Nothing that wasn’t necessary.”

  She studied his face for a moment. “There is more. Do not hold back on me. Those days are gone. You do not need to protect me. I cannot abide another secret.”

  Marc Pierre pressed his lips together tightly and looked over at Lenister. Standing, Lenister nodded and strode to her side.

  “It seems the man knew more than we suspected. Fortunate that it was Marc Pierre who interrogated Giarden. Otherwise, it would not only have been Giarden who would have been executed.”

  “You are confusing me.”

  “He knew,” Marc Pierre said, finally. “The instant the door to his cell at Conciergerie slung open, he was ranting. Doomed himself for his political ambitions to overcome Robespierre, he meant to take more alongside himself to the guillotine. The instant he saw me, he understood he had told the wrong person. By the time I left, he no longer had the ability to talk or write for that matter.”

  Eloise grimaced. She could only imagine what her brother had done on her account. Then she saw something in his eyes. It was not only herself. “What did he know, Marc Pierre?”

  “The White Rose.”

  Eloise glanced back at her husband, for it was he that uttered the words. Fear surged through her at the thought that all within her network were endangered. Lenister grasped her arm in a reassuring manner, calming her.

  “Giarden knew only the heads of the network. He knew of you and Marc Pierre,” Lenister said in a soothing voice. “But it is certain, Giarden would have pressed for more information and used it to his full advantage.”

  Perplexed, she looked back at Marc Pierre. “How? How did he discover our network?”

  “He had a visitor to Paris,” Marc Pierre replied. “I suspect it was the reason for the raid you escaped. I tore through all his papers after his confession to me. There was no written information. It would have been too dangerous. If caught with the information, Giarden himself would have been suspected because he never reported his suspicions.

  “Giarden was an intelligent man. He understood if I was involved that the lines ran deep within the government. It would not be surprising given the terror that reigns within Paris that officials might have need of a method of escape for themselves or a family member. As I said before, Giarden is not a concern anymore. But there is a leak. A quite dangerous leak.”

  “What are we going to do? What can I do? I can’t leave, knowing people I love are in danger.” Her voice echoed her deep worry. Rambling, Eloise reached over and gripped tightly to Marc Pierre’s hand. “Come back with us. Tell him, Gerard, he is welcome. Tell him, he can go to America. Andre can come also with us…”

  “Stop, Eloise.” Marc Pierre withdrew his hand from hers. “I’m not running anywhere. I will not abandon my country. You need to understand the dream to go to America was Luc’s, not mine.”

  “But what will you do?” Eloise glanced frantically over at Lenister.

  Lenister raised his eyebrows slightly with a semblance of a grin on his lips. “That, my love, depends upon you.”

  * * * *

  Eloise never thought she would return. She paused at the path up to the house. She stood motionless and stared at the place she had lived with Luc so long ago…a lifetime ago. So young and naïve, she gave her trust to Luc. Oh, she had wanted to believe the handsome dreamer. She turned a blind eye to his shortcomings, his lacking the skills to deal with the cruel world in which he lived. She looked through his eyes—his dreams.

  Ignoring that the odds were against them, she threw caution to the wind. With youthful exuberance, she stood beside Luc against the world. Nothing…nothing would happen to them. Their love would shield them from the realities of life…but their fantasy world crumbled.

  She did not blame Luc. Perhaps there was nothing he could have done to prevent the forces working against them both. Looking back, it had become obvious he was ill-prepared for the blunt of the storm that brewed around her.

  Now she knew. She knew Luc had tried to play the game he could not win. Why…why did you not take me to America as we planned? Why? We could have survived…together. But there would be no answer.

  Last night, Marc Pierre told her, “Luc thought he could manipulate both sides, Eloise. He never dreamed harm would befall you. You have to believe that. Pure foolishness.”

  Perhaps…but his recklessness cost him his life. And it had been her left to deal with the utter wretchedness that gripped her soul. Remorse filled her for the needless loss.

  But as he had done in Paris, Lenister freed her and released the bonds that guilt welded. He gave her the decision whether she wanted the opportunity to put an end to this madness. It was only a chance…but a chance she was willing to take.

  “I’m not asking you to do this for anyone but yourself,” Lenister said. “I believe it is time for the truth to be known. I won’t deny you this chance to do so. It is your right.”

  Eloise pondered all told to her. She supposed she had suspected a secreted motive to all that had befallen her. To have the life she desired with her husband, she needed to accept her past. She wanted nothing more than to embrace the future. She could not do so until she uncovered that secret.

  Pausing only a moment longer, she began the ascent up the hill to the partially hidden stone house with hardened determination. The abandoned house looked as it had the day she had been abducted. The door lay on the ground trampled on by those who burst in and surprised her that day many years ago.

  A cloud of dust encompassed her as she entered the place she once sought sanctuary. The whole of the interior was in dire need of repair. The ceiling had pieces falling down. Broken pieces of furniture scattered across the dirt floor. Her eyes adjusted slowly to the dim light. Squinting at the floor, there were fresh footprints. She wasn’t alone.

  Startled, she watched a figure emerge from an obscure dark corner…one she knew well.

  “Edmund, what are you doing here?”

  * * * *

  “Eloise,” His Grace, the Duke of Rotheward, uttered. He straightened himself to full height. Dusting off his waistcoat, he strolled up to Eloise, who stood motionless and stared unbelieving the sight before her. Never had she seen him so. His hair disheveled and loose about his shoulders. Dirt covered the whole of his body…his clothes, his hands and face.

  “Did you find what you were looking for?”

  Eloise didn’t turn around to the voice, for in the next breath an arm rounded her waist. Lenister hadn’t held to the plan. She had told him she would hold her own, but her husband was taking no chances. He exposed himself.

  Marc Pierre, Lenister, and she had ridden down the coast to this location for one purpose—to flush out the culprit who had betrayed the White Rose. Behind them, Seamus and Marc Pierre’s men followed. The plan had been simple.

  Marc Pierre and Lenister rode
into Calais the next morning to make the final arrangements for Eloise and the children’s departure. In the midst of the Rai d'Or, the two openly argued about Eloise’s desire to look for papers she remembered Luc had hidden at their cottage. Marc Pierre slipped Andre a note from Eloise, asking her cousin to meet her at the cottage to help her search for the papers. It would be the last opportunity she would have to find the answers she sought about her past.

  Lenister was confident the plan would work. Eloise wasn’t as assured, but her husband thought Luc held information before his death that was key in this whole mess. After securing the horses, Eloise walked along the beach alone as Lenister and Marc Pierre kept guard in the shadows. The men split up, watching for anyone to appear.

  Time was of the essence, for it was known that Eloise would depart France soon enough and would not be returning. According to Lenister, the culprit would have to act swiftly. The trap had been sprung.

  Lenister thought the man would want to catch Eloise in the act of uncovering the papers. Lenister was so confident that the culprit would have been one of two men, but not the man in front of them who professed to be her brother.

  Edmund glanced over at Lenister, disconcerted. He wiped back the trickling sweat off his brow. “Eloise…Lenister…I didn’t say how happy I am…” He paused, pushing back his hair. He rambled on incoherently. “That you are safe. I came when the message arrived at Height Point. I had returned because I received word you never arrived at Ashwin Manor. When the message that Lenister had been successful and had his children. Shocked to discover you were with your husband. The yacht was immediately dispatched after the weather calmed. I came personally to ensure your safety. I was quite concerned about your involvement, Eloise…your safety.”

  Edmund drew in a deep breath, as if waiting to hear if his company believed his words. Eloise, too astonished at Edmund's presence, said nothing. Edmund continued his desperate ramblings.

  “When I arrived in Calais, I went directly to your uncle’s tavern. Your uncle told to me your story. I was dumbfounded. Then I heard…I overheard Andre telling his father that you were wanting to come back here…for the last time…I wanted only to make sure you were safe.”

  In stunned silence, Eloise looked up at Lenister, unsure what was needed of her at this point. She had never seen Edmund in such a state. The uneasiness in his voice scared her.

  “Do tell us, Your Grace, what exactly you heard? I am curious because I don’t quite understand why this would be of importance to you or how you would have even known of this place’s existence. Unless you sought it out for a reason. Is there something of importance you have need of that you thought would be here?” Lenister asked curtly. “Do you want me to guess? Over the last few days, I have thought quite a lot about the whole of the situation. I have come to my own conclusion.”

  “Do tell me…” Edmund snapped. “Do tell me what you have concluded!”

  Lenister stared at the man calmly. “I have come to the conclusion that there was never any question whether Eloise was legitimate or not. I do believe that Eloise’s mother was married in a legal ceremony to your father. The question is when. When did the marriage take place. When did it, Your Grace?”

  A sick expression swept over Edmund’s face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Do you know what you are insinuating? Impossible…”

  “It’s over. All the lies. All the secrets.” Lenister released Eloise and walked straight toward the duke. Taking the ruffled man by his collar, he pulled him up to his face. “Do I need more proof? You are here looking for the papers. Tell me now or there will be far worse consequences than the truth being known!”

  The threat encompassed the dusty somber room. Eloise held her breath until Lenister slung Edmund backwards. Edmund hit the wall and caught his breath. Edmund shook his head over and over again.

  “You don’t understand. You don’t,” Edmund cried, explosively. “You don’t know what I have done to protect Eloise. If not for me…”

  Edmund stopped, as if saying too much. He gazed upon Lenister, understanding as Eloise did in that moment, that her husband was not to be denied in his relentless pursuit of the truth. Edmund rubbed his face wearily, as if he was sick of the whole situation. He said, his voice cracking, “You are right. I can’t live like this anymore, but Eloise does not need to hear…”

  “Eloise will stay,” Lenister said, coldly menacing. “Out with it. All of it. She deserves to know.”

  Edmund rubbed his temple like a man wrestling with his conscience. Looking down at the floor, he gathered his words. Swallowing hard, he turned to his sister. “You need to understand how Father handled the situation. He ignored it, which in turn magnified the damage. I only discovered the whole of the situation after we received the note detailing the danger you were in. For God’s sake, you were seventeen! But in truth, it was I who insisted that we cross the Channel to reclaim you, Eloise. Know that.”

  “Father would not have come for me?” she asked, confused and trying desperately to understand. “Why? Why, Edmund, was it you who insisted?”

  “Because Father feared if your existence became known, it would cause irreparable harm not only to him, but all of the family.”

  “Because of the embarrassment that I was his daughter?”

  Edmund shook his head. “It was more, I’m afraid. Your husband’s conclusion was correct. Father married your mother long before your birth. Father confessed it all to me on the boat journey over to rescue you. It was supposed to have been a mock ceremony. Father said your mother insisted they marry. He desired her, but, of course, the marriage would have never been acceptable. A duke and an actress!

  “Father and your mother went through what my father thought to be a fake ceremony. Father kept your mother in the utmost of luxury in Paris. When he took her to London, he confessed to her his trick. He thought she had accepted the situation. She said nothing, not even when Father married my mother or when I was born. Not until she was with child. Then your mother claimed the whole of the situation played upon her immortal soul.

  “She refused to have a bastard child. She claimed their marriage was real and she would prove it. She returned to Calais. Our father gave it no credence. He knew well it was a mock ceremony, but then to his horror he received a letter from her attorney. A letter he could not simply dismiss. It came from Monsieur Claude Lefevre, the most renowned attorneys within France.

  “There he discovered that the whole of the ceremony had been official. The priest, the bans. It had even been recorded. Your mother laughed at Father and taunted him for his stupidity.”

  “So Father turned his back on me because my existence would make you illegitimate?”

  “In part…”

  “Oh, come, now, Your Grace. You tell the tale much too slowly and it is such a simple tale.”

  Eloise turned to face her uncle, who walked boldly within the cottage, followed by Andre and a stern-faced Marc Pierre.

  “You were correct, Lord Lenister. It seems we do have more company,” Marc Pierre stated solemnly. “This should be well entertaining.”

  “Entertaining. Quite so. I had not realized that there would be so many of us, but I agree it is time for the truth to be known. Do you not think, Your Grace?’ Orville D’Arcy bolstered loudly. “Marguerite was quite sly. She wrangled an entire dukedom out of the your father with the birth of Eloise.”

  “You make no sense, uncle,” Eloise protested. “What have I to do with the dukedom? You have fostered upon me my entire life that I was a bastard. Told me to play along with the thought I was legitimate. What do you know that I do not?”

  “Eloise, I will tell you what I believe,” Lenister ventured softly. “The only thing that makes sense. The only thing that would cause your father to turn his back on you for fear of discovery. The only thing that would let your uncle leverage you for money and status. The only thing that would make the Marquis de Mortiere and the Vicomte de Calognac to act in the manner they did.
Even after your defiance, Calognac had no choice to look after the baby and yourself at least until after you delivered him a child of his own. He had to keep you alive for the plan to work. They had planned for years. Calognac couldn’t just let the opportunity slip through his hands. That was the reason he married you and claimed Rosabel.

  “Tell her, Your Grace, if I am wrong, but I would wager I am not. The dukedom must be entailed to heirs general. Which means, Eloise, that if the marriage of your mother to your father was recognized, you would inherit the title. You would be the Duchess of Rotheward.”

  Eloise looked at Lenister, truly astonished. The words made no sense. She turned and glanced around the room. Edmund paled; Andre lowered his gaze while Marc Pierre had the look he would explode at any minute. One glance at her uncle and then the meaning became clear.

  Her uncle laughed, a laugh engrained with insensitivity and arrogance. Never had she considered her uncle a cruel, ruthless man. She looked upon him as a man who had done what he must to protect his family…until this moment. He stood unrepentant and smiled at her malignantly.

  “It seems I have been called here under false pretenses,” Orville said.

  Eloise couldn’t take her eyes off her uncle. Something in his mannerism…behind the mask of pretension and conceit…the man was scared. It was in his eyes much like a trapped animal. He turned to Andre. “Son, what is the meaning of having me ride all the way out here? We all would have been much more comfortable at the tavern.”

  “I believe we have been drawn here for a purpose, Father,” Andre said scornfully. “And rightly so.”

  Her uncle shrugged his shoulders. “Ah, so now my own son has betrayed me. You have brought me here to confess my sins. So I suspected that Eloise was legitimate. All I have done I have done for the family. Can you say the same? Or has your conscience gotten the better of you?”

  Andre sighed, exasperated. “The difference between us, my dear father, is that I have a conscience.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a worn paper. “You are right, Father. I did know that a trap had been set because I hold in my hand here what you have searched years to find.”