Lord Philip's Christmas

by Michele McGrath

  “I was on my way there when the Emperor returned, so I came back. How could you possibly manage without me?”

  MacDonald laughed but drew him outside into the corridor. “Be careful what you say in there, my friend. Not everyone is a Bonapartist but we need more time to get rid of the king’s men and put our own in their place. If you discover anything sensitive, tell me about it privately, not in front of the others. Listen to what they’re saying and report to me if there is something unusual. It will be a while before everything gets back to normal.”

  “How do you know I’m not a spy for the king?”

  “Heaven forbid! I remember what you said about him when you left here in such a hurry. It would certainly have landed you in gaol, if it had been reported. Have you changed your mind?”

  “No, but I hope that this time the Emperor tries to make peace and not war.”

  “We all hope for that.”

  Philip slipped easily back into his old job, mostly translating correspondence, foreign newspapers and legal documents from one language into the other. It was tedious work but he had grown used to it over the years and it had always been well paid. A couple of days later, he was handed packets of letters written by English people who had been caught in Paris by the change of government. They were applying for their passports to go home again. These he took to MacDonald.

  “What do I reply to them?” he asked. “Do we let them leave? A few of them are men over military age, some women and children.”

  “I expect we’ll send those people back but I’ll have to check. It’s not like it was in 1803. The Emperor’s position was much stronger then. Fouché’s spies should be able to find out about the current crop; give the Police something to do instead of skulking around the back streets hatching plots. You can have the pleasure of replying to these letters, if they prove to be who they say they are.”

  “Thank you,” Philip said with a wry grin.

  “What are those you are holding in your other hand?”

  “From men who could fight against us if they leave. One, I’m certain, has only just sold out of the British Army.”

  “How do you know that? Is he a friend of yours?”

  “Perish the thought. I met him once in a tavern when he was boasting that the English had thrashed our forces in Spain.”

  “Well Fouché can intern him and others like him. As for the rest, I will get the Minister to decide. We’re better off without foreigners for now. We’ve enough to do, without monitoring their movements and their boring correspondence.”

  “Very true.”

  That evening, Philip sought out Victor and told him about the letters.

  “If MacDonald doesn’t change his mind and asks me to write to these people, enclosing their passports…”

  “You’re not thinking about sending a few more for Alice, Edward and Grace, are you?” Victor grinned.

  “How well you know me. But why not?”

  “No problem about the ladies, but Edward has already said he intends to fight. In this instance, you will have to decide where your loyalties lie, with France or with England…”

  “Curse you, Victor, that’s exactly my difficulty but it’s more than a simple matter of loyalty to my country, whichever one that is. Edward may be a former soldier but he is also my sister’s husband and my cousin. I have a loyalty to him too.”

  “If I were the one who needed your help, would you give it to me? After all, I am your cousin too.”

  “Of course I would, but Edward’s case is different. You would not be going to fight.”

  “No thank God. Tell me why you came here tonight?”

  “Two things. I hoped talking with you might make up my mind, which it has not. I also thought that, if I did manage to obtain the passports, I would need them to be delivered by someone I could trust.”

  “Are you asking me to do it for you?”

  “Yes, if you can.”

  “I have just been home. If I go again so soon, there are bound to be questions. I like the work I do now so I haven’t gone back to my former job in the government, as you know. Moreau is tolerant but he won’t like it if I abuse his generosity. If I can’t take them, though, I know a couple of people who travel to Grenoble regularly and who are reliable. They will deliver a packet from me to Papa with no trouble.”

  “Thank you. I’ll let you know, if and when, I have the passports.”

  The following day Philip called into the Salle looking for Marco.

  “Mon brave, I’m so pleased to see you,” Marco said as the other instructors gathered around to welcome him. “How are you?”

  “I’m glad to be back here.”

  “And the arm?”

  “I can use it for most things.”

  “Fencing?”

  “I haven’t tried.”

  “Then shall we find out?”

  An hour later a sweaty and exhausted Philip sank onto a bench and accepted a glass of wine from the Italian who laughed at him.

  “A bit rusty and easily tired but we will soon have you back to your best form.”

  “I hope so, although I expect you’re thin of customers with all our visitors departing rapidly for their homes.”

  “Not at all. They have been replaced by those wishing to brush up their skills in anticipation of war.”

  “Do you think it will come to that?” Philip asked.

  “Almost certainly. Are you another who intends to fight on the battlefield instead of in the Salle?”

  “I don’t know the first thing about battlefields.”

  “Neither did the armies that carried the Revolution though all the countries of Europe.”

  Philip smiled and looked around. It was getting late and the Salle was almost empty now. All the clients had left and only a few of the instructors were putting their equipment away. No one was near enough to overhear their talk.

  “Perhaps it’s time for me to share a secret with you. Like many in France, I’m unsure of what to do, but not for the usual reasons. You’ve known me for years as both a client and an instructor. You gave me work at a moment when I needed it badly. I will always be grateful to you but I never told you the full story of my life, although I count you my friend. As you know, my mother is French. My father was an Englishman and I was raised in that country. When I had to leave my home, I found refuge here under a relative’s name. I’m torn between loyalty to the place where I was born and to France which I love and which has been so good to me. I should have told you before.”

  “Why? All men have secrets but I did wonder a little when that Englishman, Charville, came and accosted you, then later on when you fought the duel.”

  “A debt I owed in another life, paid in full now.”

  Marco nodded. “There are many of us in your position at this moment,” he said. “France is my home and has been for years, ever since the Emperor conquered Lombardy. If I had to choose between France and Italy, I don’t know what I would do. Fortunately, the question does not arise for me. I’m an old man, too old for war.”

  “Can you advise me?”

  “If I could, I would not. Only you are able to say which is the greater loyalty for yourself but, in your position, I would try to find a way to serve both masters if I could.”

  “I’m trying to do that at the Foreign Ministry.”

  “You are not satisfied?”

  “No, but I can’t see an alternative.”

  “Perhaps there is none to be found at the moment.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Edward was restless and Alice was scared, even though they had been made very welcome in Oncle Richard’s house. Every afternoon Edward rode into Grenoble to find out the latest news. Alice waited for his return expecting him to tell her that he was leaving. This apprehension spoiled her pleasure in meeting her cousins and playing with their offspring. It had been her dream to meet her mother’s family and she found that they were pleasant people whose company she enjoyed. One in particular, Louise
, was close to her age and often joined her and Grace, walking together and discussing clothes, friends and children. They never talked about politics or what was happening in France for, as Louise said,

  “Whatever happens, none of us will be able to change a thing, so let us enjoy ourselves while we can and the country is still quiet.”

  Louise also had a reason to fear the future. She was planning her wedding to Guilliame, one of the soldiers guarding the fortress of La Grande Chartreuse, which overlooks the city of Grenoble.

  “If the Emperor calls, he will have to go,” she said fearfully to the others on the only occasion they ever discussed the subject. “Let’s hope that the foreigners allow us to live in peace.”

  At first it seemed as if her hope would be fulfilled, for the present at least. The enemies of France were arming and gathering their men together but they had not moved up to the frontier. Yet it was only a matter of time. Edward sent several messages by the carrier to London and to friends stationed in the Low Countries, who might be expected to know more than he did. It was the answer to one of these letters that brought him to find Alice. She was sitting alone in the garden enjoying the sunny weather and the view of the snow-capped peaks of the Belledonne Mountains. A look at his face told her the worst. She could feel the blood draining from her cheeks and her hands starting to shake. She bit her lip before she asked in a voice she did not recognise as her own,

  “Have you had news?”

  He nodded and took her hand. “I’m sorry it has come to this.”

  “Must you go? There are so many soldiers, surely they don’t need you.”

  “My dear, I have to. I would never forgive myself if I did not. Mason writes that the regiment is short of officers and begs me to set off at once. Lots of people sold out when the wars ended and not all have returned to the colours. I can join them near to Brussels but I must go now. Otherwise I could be stopped at the border.”

  Alice rose. “Then we must tell the family that we are leaving and start to pack.”

  Edward caught her hand. “Darling, stop. I would prefer it if you and Grace would stay here until I return. Then I’ll escort you back to London. Who knows what’s going to happen in the coming days? You’re safe here with your aunt and uncle. No one will harm you. The road into Switzerland and through to Brussels can be treacherous if the weather changes. It’s a long a tiring journey at any time and we don’t know what is happening in the Low Countries. When armies are on the march, it’s dangerous for women to be anywhere nearby.”

  Alice looked at him steadily. “All that you say is true, but I am still leaving with you. If you don’t take me, I’ll follow you. If you are going to war, I realise I can’t go onto the battlefield with you, but let me stay for as long as possible. Don’t deny me this, please. These may be the last days we ever spend together.”

  “You aren’t afraid?”

  “If I’m with you, no, I’m not. You knew when you married me that I wasn’t a coward.”

  He smiled. “Then don’t complain when you are sore from the bumping of the carriage.”

  “You’re taking the carriage? If you do, it’s certain to be noticed. It has your arms on the panel.”

  “Originally I intended to ride and leave the coach here for you.”

  “Why not do so then? On horseback, we’ll be able to travel faster, especially at the rate Old Trevor drives. You told me about Juana Smith riding with the troops in Spain. What she can do, I can do.” Thank goodness, I’m not with child, Alice thought. I was so disappointed when I found out, but now it’s a great blessing. I could not have gone with him otherwise.

  “What about all your luggage and kickshaws?”

  “I sent most of them back to England with Bennett. Grace can take the rest home.”

  Grace, however, did not immediately approve of this plan when Alice broke the news to her.

  “I’m English too, so I should leave as soon as possible. I don’t want to be detained here, although I like your people very much and this is a lovely place. Let me come with you, please.”

  “Can you ride at speed?” Edward asked her. “The roads are likely to be rough and we will need to hurry.” At this she hesitated.

  “I used to ride, but my father only kept one horse and she was old and slow.”

  “Riding around the villages in England is different than following steep tracks through the mountains. Alice is a good rider, but even she is likely to have some difficulty. If I’m to be in time to join the regiment before it fights, I can’t wait for you. I’m sorry but I think you would be better off going home in the coach with Trevor.”

  “Won’t Grace be at risk if she does?” Alice asked.

  “She’s a woman and Trevor is not of military age. They will be safe enough if they start tomorrow and keep up a steady pace; they should reach the Channel before anyone tries to stop them. Once across, Grace can go to our house and wait for our return.”

  “I’m sorry, Grace, but I agree with Edward,” Alice said, closing the discussion as Grace reluctantly nodded.

  They went together to tell their hosts. Tante Françoise was alarmed at the thought of her niece riding through the mountains all the way to the Low Countries but Alice reassured her.

  “It’s only a matter of time before they intern people like me,” Edward explained. “I’m surprised that the orders haven’t gone out already to detain anyone who is still in the country.”

  “You have no passports,” Oncle Richard reminded him, “but the border is rarely patrolled at night. With luck, you may slip through. If you can’t, return here and I will find you a guide to take you by the mountain paths. I’ll lend you horses but I would ask you to send them back to us when you find a change. Jean can go with you over the first stage to Chambéry and bring them home.”

  “Thank you.”

  It was arranged that the pair would leave with Benson and the groom, Jean, early next morning and hope to be in Chambéry that night. Their luggage was packed up and loaded onto the coach. Grace and Trevor would start the journey to England as soon as possible.

  “For now, you must take what you need in saddlebags because a pack animal would slow you down,” Oncle Richard advised the riders. “You cross into Switzerland a few leagues from Geneva and you should have no difficulty travelling onwards from there to the western border. Beyond Switzerland I can’t tell you. I have never travelled any further.”

  Both parties started out the next morning as dawn was breaking over the Chartreuse massif. Alice and Edward waved their farewells to Grace and the family gathered to see them leave and say goodbye. They mounted their horses and followed Jean towards the valley leading north. The air was crisp; it was a fine day for riding. Several hours later, though, Alice had changed her mind. As Edward had predicted, she was saddle-sore. Although she had hunted regularly at Kirkmore and ridden in London, it was months since she been in the saddle for such a long time. Pride, however, made her hold herself up and say she was not tired, when Edward asked her how she did. Nevertheless, he knew her well enough to realise that she was uncomfortable, so he called a halt for the night at Montmélian, a few leagues short of Chambéry. They ate a quick meal and went straight to bed. Alice fell asleep almost as soon as her head touched the pillow, she was so weary.

  Next morning, she felt as if she had been beaten as she hobbled down to the coffee room to break her fast. They were just finishing when there was a sound of horses’ hooves outside the inn. Edward’s face froze and his hand clenched.

  “Do you think they have come to arrest us?” Alice asked him in a whisper.

  “Perhaps.”

  The door opened and Benson entered.

  “This man is asking for you, sir.”

  He stood aside to let a young man, dressed as a farm labourer into the room.

  “Milor’ Maitland?” Edward smiled at the title but nodded gravely.

  “Monsieur Debord sent me with this package for you. I have been riding all night, hoping to fin
d you as soon as possible.”

  “Then you must be exhausted!” Alice said rising to her feet and pushing the young man into her chair. “Eat and sleep before you go back.”

  She asked Benson to find the landlord. When he arrived, she ordered more bread and cheese and to have a bed made up. The young man told them his name was André and he worked in her uncle’s vineyard. He protested and told her he must return home but she insisted that he rest before he attempted to ride any further.

  “If you aren’t tired, your horse will be,” she said tartly, clinching the argument.

  While André was eating, she looked over to her husband’s shoulder as he opened the packet and read its contents.

  “What is it? It must be important for Oncle to send it after us,” she asked in a low voice.

  “A letter from your brother enclosing these.” He held three pieces of paper out to her.

  She scanned them. “Passports?”

  “Sealed with the imperial seal no less and instructing the authorities to render all assistance while we are in French territory. I wonder where he got them from?”

  “Are they forged?”

  “The seals look authentic but it is surprising that no one has raised difficulties to my leaving. However, with these, we may travel in more comfort on the main routes. I will hire a post chaise once we get to Chambéry unless you prefer to ride the whole way?” He grinned at her and she laughed.

  They said goodbye to Jean at Chambéry and sent him back with their horses to Grenoble. He intended to rejoin André at Montmélian so they could ride home together. Alice breathed a sigh of relief when she sank backing into the cushions of the coach. It was so good not to be on horseback or to keep up her pretence.

  “What are you thinking about so deeply?”

  “That I must ride every day whenever I can. The journey from Grenoble was more difficult than it should have been and I did not want to slow you up.”

  “You didn’t, but I thought I might have to leave you here to follow me or even to send you back.”