by Diane Gaston
The park was a magnificent space, indeed, a huge formal garden enclosed with iron rails and bordered by the Royal Palace and other grand public buildings. Inside the park were gravel walkways, crisscrossing each other in symmetrical patterns. Large, leafy trees, green shrubbery and flowers grew in grassy spots between the walkways. In every direction something interesting could be found. Statues and fountains and benches.
And men in uniforms of all types and colours, strolling with elegant ladies or conversing in groups of twos or threes.
It is madness to be here, Tess thought.
When Napoleon was exiled to Elba, the English flocked to the Continent where travel had so long been denied them. Brussels especially had become a fashionable destination, as well as a place to live in luxury for significantly less than it cost in Britain. Now, though, all was changed. Napoleon had reclaimed his empire, and the British, Prussians, Austrians and Russians declared war, not on France, but on Napoleon himself.
Impending war brought even more people to Brussels—thousands of soldiers, their officers and others who had official duties made necessary by the inevitable war. The Allies were planning to march into France any day now.
There was no reason for Tess, Amelie and her parents to be in Brussels, though. Lord Northdon had no official duties and he certainly had no need to economise. He and Lady Northdon came to Brussels simply to indulge Amelie.
Amelie had become enamoured of a young captain in the Scots Greys to whom she’d been introduced at one of the London entertainments. The Scots Greys, a prestigious cavalry regiment, was sent to Brussels to prepare for the battle with Napoleon’s forces. Amelie could not bear to be parted from her Captain Fowler, so Lord and Lady Northdon agreed they could all follow him here.
Here in the Parc de Bruxelles people seemed as festive as if this were the London Season. Was Tess the only one who worried about why the soldiers were here?
Amelie talked excitedly. ‘Would it not be beyond everything if I should run into Captain Fowler here in the park? He could be here at this moment! Papa said he would send a message to him that we have arrived, but would it not be exciting if he found us here before he reads the message? He will call as soon as he is able. I am sure of it.’
Tess, too, scanned the park, but to look for Marc, not for Captain Fowler.
Because Marc, too, could be in Brussels.
The one letter Tess had received from him in the three months he’d been gone had been posted from Ostend, the port at which she, Amelie and Lord and Lady Northdon had landed just the day before. It had arrived just days before they’d left and merely stated that he was well, but was remaining on the Continent.
If Marc had been in Belgium when he’d penned the letter, he could very well now be among the English visitors to Brussels.
Apparently he was no longer in the Alps. Most likely he had never been there. He’d lied to her about his travel plans. If he had indeed been planning a hike across the mountains, he would not have taken Apollo with him.
His whereabouts ought to be of no consequence to Tess, but the pain of his abandoning her had not abated, even though she’d become very skilled at not showing it.
In London she’d had plenty of practice hiding the wounds he’d inflicted. She’d done so at every social event she’d had to attend. Either Lord Tinmore had arranged for invitations or Amelie’s success at the Caldwells’ party had made her a desirable guest, Tess did not know which. Amelie was quite a success wherever they went. Tess, on the other hand, received stares and whispers and sympathetic looks. At least she did not experience the cut direct as Lady Northdon occasionally did. Lady Northdon always held her head high and refused to be cowed by cruel treatment. Tess emulated her. Tess had become quite fond of Lady Northdon, who treated her as if she were another beloved daughter. Lord Northdon was not quite so generous. Tess suspected he blamed her for Marc’s abrupt departure. None of them spoke to her about Marc’s leaving her, though.
Tinmore brought Tess’s sisters to London, as he said he would, and they were often at the same events. Her sisters insisted she explain why Marc left her. Tess told them only what Marc told her, but that was not enough for Lorene. Lorene lectured Tess on how she might have been more accommodating to her husband. Or Lorene lamented that Tess’s marriage was not the sort Lorene had wanted for her. It was not the marriage for which Lorene sacrificed herself. Genna argued with both of them for expecting any marriage to solve their problems.
This was more blame Tess could leave at Marc’s feet. By abandoning her, he’d widened the breach between her and her sisters. If he’d stayed, they might have at least pretended to have a successful marriage. She would not have to endure her sisters’ grief for the shambles she’d made of her life. Tess and her sisters rarely called upon each other and mostly saw each other at social events where Lord Tinmore was also present. What that man thought of Marc leaving her, Tess could only guess.
Mr Welton also appeared at some of the London events, making straight for Genna, who just as swiftly sent him packing. How was it that Genna could see through Welton when Tess had been unable to? Tess could not trust her judgement of anyone any more.
She’d been so terribly wrong about Marc.
Marc’s lovemaking had made her believe he loved her. Instead, he’d wanted to be a continent away from her.
No one would hurt her like that again. She built armour around herself to keep her safe and to hide how shattered she was inside.
‘Shall we walk together a little?’ Amelie asked, rousing Tess from her reverie.
‘As you wish.’ Tess smiled and tried to sound cheerful.
They strolled down one of the paths and all the men they passed paused for a moment to gaze at Amelie.
Amelie took Tess by the arm. ‘Let us make our way to the centre and see the basin with the fish.’
Their guidebook said there was a huge basin in the middle of the park with silver and gold fish, but it seemed like they must pass through a gauntlet of staring men to reach it.
As they walked, Tess remarked, ‘I do not see how you can be so at ease. Every gentleman turns to look at you.’
‘Oh, they are not looking at me,’ Amelie insisted, walking on serenely.
Was the girl that deluded? She was a beauty.
When they neared the basin, Amelie ran forward. ‘It really does have fish!’
Tess joined her, acutely aware of the interest Amelie created. As Amelie circumvented the basin, Tess kept her gaze firmly on the fish and not on the staring men.
‘Oh, my goodness!’ Amelie suddenly exclaimed. ‘He’s here. Look. Look.’
Amelie ran ahead. Had she found her Captain Fowler? Tess glanced across the basin to see.
And froze.
Marc stood on the other side.
He must have seen her the instant she’d seen him. He looked directly into her eyes.
His sister reached him and threw her arms around him. ‘Marc! Marc! Are you truly here?’
He embraced Amelie, but his eyes never left Tess.
When he released her, Amelie turned and called across the basin, ‘Tess! Look! It is Marc!’
Tess made her way slowly to where they stood.
‘Marc,’ she said, trying to keep all emotion from her voice.
‘Tess,’ he whispered.
‘So you came to Brussels, too?’ Amelie cried. ‘You should have told us you would be here. We just arrived today. Where are you staying? Papa procured rooms for us at the Hotel de Flandre and Maman has been speaking nothing but French since we arrived. She cannot wait to visit the magasins. Every shop calls itself Magasin de—something, she said...’
While Amelie chattered, Marc continued to gaze at Tess, but he suddenly collected himself. ‘Forgive me. There are others here who would wish to greet you.’
He was standing with three men and a woman.
The woman stepped out from behind one of the men. ‘Mrs Glenville. Amelie.’ It was Doria Caldwell, looking serene as ever.
‘What a surprise. I do hope you had a good trip.’
Tess’s glance darted to Marc. Had he lied about Doria Caldwell after all?
Amelie ran over to clasp Miss Caldwell’s hand. ‘Doria! We had no idea you were coming to Brussels, too!’
Miss Caldwell smiled at her. ‘Papa was asked to come. He is assisting one of the diplomats.’ Her gaze slipped over to Tess. ‘We just ran into Marc a few minutes ago.’
Mr Caldwell stepped over to Amelie. ‘My dear, you look as pretty as a picture. What a delight to see you here.’ He turned to Tess. ‘And you, of course, Mrs Glenville.’
‘What a coincidence!’ Amelie said brightly. ‘It is almost like being back in London.’
Tess felt suddenly sick to her stomach. Her husband was here, conversing with the woman he once wanted to marry, and was about as happy to see Tess as she was to see him.
She depended upon her armour to keep her rooted to this place when she wanted to run back to the hotel and hide herself in her room.
‘Good afternoon, sir,’ she said to Mr Caldwell.
Marc turned abruptly. ‘I am being remiss. Let me present my two companions to you.’
Tess attended to the two men standing near Marc. One was dressed as a gentleman like Marc, the other, in an officer’s uniform. Marc presented them and Tess promptly forgot their names. She did notice their surprise when he introduced her, saying, ‘This is my wife, Mrs Glenville, and my sister, Miss Glenville.’
Their attention quickly turned to the beautiful Amelie, though. Mr Caldwell and his daughter discreetly stepped back and she was left to speak with Marc alone.
‘What are you doing here?’ he asked in a gruff tone.
He’d certainly made his feelings known.
She lifted her chin. ‘I am in Brussels only because your mother and father wished me to come. They are here because Amelie has a suitor here. He is the reason.’
‘A suitor?’
Better to talk of Amelie’s suitor than to ask Marc to explain why he was in Brussels, or why he was in the company of Miss Caldwell.
‘He is Captain Fowler of the Scots Greys,’ she said.
The man in uniform overheard her. ‘Scots Greys? A prestigious regiment.’
‘Oh, yes!’ exclaimed Amelie. ‘Captain Fowler considers it quite an honour.’
‘You have a suitor?’ Miss Caldwell asked Amelie.
Amelie lowered her lashes and looked even more beguiling. ‘I suppose you could say he is my suitor.’ She began to explain to Miss Caldwell and Marc how she’d met him.
Tess turned to the officer, because she did not want to be a part of Miss Caldwell’s conversation. ‘What regiment are you, sir?’
He bowed. ‘28th, ma’am.’
‘The 28th is here?’ Tess’s eyes widened. She forgot about Miss Caldwell and Marc for the moment. ‘My brother is in the 28th. Do you know him? Lieutenant Edmund Summerfield. Is he here?’
‘I know him and, yes, ma’am, he is here,’ the man answered.
This was beyond wonderful! ‘Would you tell him his sister Tess is at the Hotel de Flandre? Tell him to call on me and ask for Mrs Glenville.’
Her brother Edmund was here! With him here she would not feel so desperately alone.
Her high spirits deflated. Edmund was here to fight in the new war against Napoleon. He could be killed.
The officer bowed again. ‘I will inform him with pleasure, ma’am.’
The other man clapped him on his back. ‘Come. Let us leave them all to their reunion.’
The two men bid them good day.
Amelie seized her brother’s arm and pressed her cheek against his shoulder. ‘I cannot believe you are actually here. And Doria and Mr Caldwell, too!’
Marc looked straight at Tess. ‘This is no place for you. The Allies are preparing for war. It may become dangerous to be here.’
Was he trying to scare her away? ‘Tell your father, not me. It was not my decision to come.’
Miss Caldwell broke in. ‘But, Marc, the soldiers are not going to fight here. They will march to France.’ She turned to her father. ‘Is that not right, Papa?’
‘That is indeed what is expected,’ he replied.
‘Oh, let us not think of the war right now!’ Amelie cried. ‘Come back to the hotel with us. Maman and Papa will be so glad to see you!’ She turned to Miss Caldwell. ‘You and Mr Caldwell must come, too. We shall all eat dinner together!’
‘No, no, my dear,’ Mr Caldwell said. ‘We would not interfere in your reunion. But send a messenger to us at the Hotel de Belle Vue if your parents would indeed like us to join you for dinner.’
Marc looked hesitant, as if coming with Amelie and Tess was the last thing he wished to do. Or was it that he wished Tess were not a part of it?
Amelie nodded. ‘We will send you a message.’ She took her brother’s arm. ‘But you will come with us now, will you not, Marc?’
He smiled at his sister. ‘Of course. I’ll come with you now.’
* * *
Marc offered Tess his arm, but she acted as if she did not notice and merely walked by his side. Silent. Amelie happily took his other arm and talked on about their trip, about Captain Fowler, about the Season’s entertainments she’d attended before travelling here. He’d never seen his sister so happy and so full of life.
Such a contrast to the woman carefully avoiding touching him or speaking to him. She looked beautiful in the light of the June sun on this fine Belgian day, but she was like some distant dream. Was there anything he could say or do to close the gulf his abandoning her had created?
Having her find him with Doria did not help.
* * *
When they reached the hotel, Amelie ran ahead to tell their parents.
Marc and Tess walked more slowly, still not speaking.
He’d hurt her terribly, though, and there was no way he could explain.
‘How were the Alps?’ she asked in a sarcastic tone.
He must lie to her again. ‘Quite nice.’
She gave him a very sceptical look.
He wished he could tell her the truth.
Within two days of that meeting with Greybury in London, Marc arrived in Calais and was on the road to Paris. His task was to locate Napoleon, learn of his plans and gauge whether or not the people of France would support him. The French people, unhappy with Louis XVIII, welcomed Napoleon’s return and Napoleon planned to rule France. He sent word to the Allies that he’d give up his empire, if they left him in peace.
As if the Allies would believe him.
The information Marc gathered was sent back through the network of agents scattered around the countryside and throughout the Continent. Marc learned that Napoleon had quickly raised a fully equipped army of two hundred thousand men. In fact, Marc had almost been conscripted into that army. He’d had to flee France to escape it.
Napoleon’s army was readying for battle and Napoleon was intent on victory.
Marc made his way to Brussels and briefed his contact of everything he’d learned in France. His contact informed the Duke of Wellington, who had been appointed Field Marshal over the forces of British, German, Dutch and Belgian soldiers assembling in Brussels. The Allied plan was to orchestrate a coordinated invasion of France.
Marc had no hard facts, but he believed Napoleon would not wait for that invasion and he feared Napoleon would march straight for Brussels.
Now his family was here? And Tess? He must convince them to leave, but how? Why would his family believe him?
He certainly had lost his wife’s trust. Tess would not even allow him to touch her.
He and Tess turned down a hallway and saw Amelie open a door to their parents’ rooms. ‘Maman! Papa!’ she cried. ‘Look who we have brought with us!’
His parents greeted him with surprise and delight, his mother kissing his cheeks, his father shaking his hand and pulling him into a hug.
‘Why did you not let us know you were in Brussels?’ his father asked.
> ‘You know I am a terrible correspondent.’ That much was true.
They had more questions for him to answer with evasions and lies. Through it all Tess sat at a little distance, her posture stiff, her face like stone.
As soon as Marc could manage it, he cut them off. ‘I am certain I may see much of you here,’ he said. ‘There will be plenty of time to discuss...whatever you wish to discuss. At the moment, though, I would like some time alone with my wife.’
His father immediately stood. ‘Of course.’ He turned to Tess. ‘Tess, take Marc to your room. We will see both of you later.’ He turned back to Marc. ‘You will join us for dinner?’
Marc had plans—work, actually—but he could delay until after dinner. ‘Certainly, I will join you.’
‘Papa,’ Amelie broke in. ‘You remind me. You will never guess who else we found on our walk.’
Tess rose while Amelie told of the Caldwells also being in Brussels. Marc moved to her side and gave her no choice but to lead him to her room.
She acted as if she were marching to the gallows.
She opened the door and her maid turned from unpacking clothes. ‘Back so soon, ma’am?’ She noticed Marc then. ‘Oh! Oh, Mr Glenville!’ She made a hurried curtsy.
‘Nancy.’ He smiled at the girl. ‘How good to see you. You are looking well.’
She stared from Marc to Tess, obviously full of curiosity. ‘Thank you, sir.’
Tess spoke to her in a strangled voice. ‘Nancy, would you mind leaving us alone for a while?’
‘Yes, ma’am!’ She dropped the folded clothes she’d been holding and, glancing back at Tess, left the room.
Marc turned to her. ‘Tess—’
She recoiled as if his speaking her name was a blow.
He went on. ‘I hardly know what to say to you.’
She would not look at him. ‘Does it matter what you say? I have lost the ability to believe you.’ She walked towards the window. ‘Tell me, did Apollo enjoy climbing the mountains?’
‘Apollo?’
She continued in her biting tone. ‘Your horse. I confess, I never knew horses climbed mountains.’
She’d surmised he’d lied about the Alps and he could not counter with the truth of where he’d been and what he’d been doing.