She nodded and handed over the rest of the money she had promised.
Allard touched his forehead in a type of salute. “I wish you well, my lady.”
She never saw Allard again, for the train left the station only a few minutes later. She stayed in the cabin as instructed and listened to the tramp of feet outside, up and down the corridor, and the rapid patter of French.
The train stopped in Rouen and there were many more voices shouting from the platform and the slam of carriage doors. The carriage shivered as soldiers climbed on and off.
Mairin stayed away from the window, although there was no need to go near it for the babble of French was perfectly clear.
Paris had been surrendered to the Prussians. The war was over.
Mairin’s heart sank. How would she find the Foreign Regiment, if they were no longer focused upon a battle front?
There was no help for it, now. She must ask for further information. She waited until the train was once more underway, so they could not easily eject her from it. She wrapped the shawl about her and stepped out into the corridor.
There were soldiers leaning against the walls, their rifles propped beside them. Some of them were sitting with their legs sprawled across the corridor itself. They looked at her with expressions ranging from astonishment to amusement.
“I need to speak to the most senior officer aboard the train. Where will I find him?” Mairin asked them. Her French had always been good, and it had rapidly improved in the last two days.
“At the end of this carriage, in the salon,” a soldier told her. He pointed with a grubby finger.
Mairin thanked him. She gripped her valise and stepped over the extended legs without comment, then moved on down the carriage to the salon. The salon had windowed walls with etched glass and inside she could see several senior officers, wearing a lot of braid and medals on their tunics. They sat around a polished walnut table, studying maps.
When Mairin stepped inside, they all shot to their feet. French officer insignia was not completely different to English officer ranks, which she knew well. There was a number of different uniforms. This train was clearly at the disposal of all the regiments.
The most senior officer was a major. He stood out, for he was older, his mustache grayer and his authority obvious.
Mairin turned to him. “Major, I wonder if I might have a word with you?”
“Where in the name of God did you spring from?” the major demanded, his face turning pink. “Did you steal aboard at Rouen?”
“In Dieppe, actually,” she told him. “There is an empty officer’s cabin at the end of the train.”
A moment of silence greeted her. One of the officers, who had an arm in a sling and with deep cuts still healing on his cheek, smiled then repressed it. Another cleared his throat.
The major’s face flushed even more. “You can’t be on this train!”
“Manifestly, I can,” Mairin replied. “There are no more stops before Paris, so unless you toss me from the moving train, or dare request the engineer to halt it just to be rid of a single woman, I am afraid you are stuck with me. In the meantime, I would like to ask you a few questions.”
The officer with his arm in a sling got to his feet. “Would you care to sit, mademoiselle?” His accent made Mairin think of Louis.
“No, thank you,” Mairin told him. “I would not deprive honorable soldiers of a resting place. I merely wish to find out what I can about the possible location of the French Foreign Regiment, now the siege has ended. I must speak to one of their officers.”
The major blustered. “This is ridiculous! You are a woman, a civilian and English! We would not give one such as you the location of a regiment!”
“Why not?” Mairin asked. “The war has ended, has it not? There is no longer any need to keep the information secret.”
An officer laughed. He smothered it quickly, yet everyone heard it. The major slapped his hand upon the table. “Leave this room at once! You should not be here…you should not be on the train. There is little I can do about it now. You will exit the train the moment it stops, do you hear?”
“Perfectly, thank you,” Mairin replied.
The major’s mouth opened.
“Why do you seek the Foreign Regiment, mademoiselle?” The question came from farther down the table. Mairin swung to look at the speaker, although she was not sure who had asked.
“Do not indulge the chit of a girl, Captain,” the major said.
Mairin picked out the captain at the end and looked at him. “There is a man I must find. I have…news from home.”
“He is with the Foreign Regiment?”
“Yes,” Mairin said, although she had no proof of that. “The family lost contact with him. We haven’t heard from him since August. I need to find out if something has happened to him, so I can go back and reassure the family he is well.”
The major growled. “You think you’re the only family who has lost contact with their sons? The whole bloody country is in a stinking mess!”
The captain spoke as if the major had not interrupted. “You travel on your own, mademoiselle? Your family could not accompany you?”
“No one knows I do this, except for one. I will write to them when I reach Paris.” Which was perfectly true.
Again, the silence.
“God save us from lovers,” the major muttered.
Mairin could feel her cheeks heating. She was not so used to plain speaking she could withstand every personal comment and this one was typically French and pithy.
“I will take you to the Legion,” someone said quietly, using the old name for the Foreign Regiment.
Mairin turned to look at the other end of the table once more. The officer with his arm in a sling was still on his feet. “You?” she asked, examining his red trousers and blue buttoned jacket.
He gave a short bow. “Lieutenant Fabien Roux, Second Foreign Cavalry Regiment, Foreign Legion, at your service.”
LIEUTENANT ROUX ALSO DID not know exactly where the Regiment was headquartered, although when a member of the Regiment asked another officer, the answer was provided without hesitation.
“The units moved about Paris as they were needed,” he had explained to Mairin as they crossed the city in search of the Regiment. “When I was wounded, they were being directed from a shattered church near Courbevoie. They will move into Paris, now, and that is where we will most likely find them.”
Mairin’s way was not impeded while an officer was beside her. She was grateful for Roux’s presence and told him so.
“It is nothing, my lady,” Roux told her. “I would hope a brother officer would do the same for my kin, if they were in need.”
“I have heard that about the Foreign Regiment. You are loyal to each other, even before France itself.”
“It is true,” Roux said. “The Regiment is a family for many of us.”
Their next enquiry was to a captain impatient to be rid of them. He told them the Regimental Commander was in Javel, on the eastern banks of the Seine, conferring with other French commanders.
Roux found a military carriage heading to Javel. He begged a small corner for the lady and standing room for him, which was grudgingly given, for the remainder of the passengers were regular French Army troopers.
“At least it will be warm,” Roux murmured to Mairin, for the day was bitterly cold. Despite it being late afternoon, their breath still billowed clouds into the air.
The building the coach stopped before was nearly whole, with only a single wing damaged from the Prussian offensive. There, Mairin saw her first Prussian officers and troops. Their gray pants and blue tunics with white belts were distinctive and Mairin drew back behind Roux, trying not to catch their eye. They were supervising the French military with alert expressions and careful scrutiny. The French carried no weapons.
Roux took her into the building itself and Mairin could feel her toes and fingers and cheeks prickle as the heat seeped through them. Eve
ry fireplace roared and most of the officers had tables pulled up close to the flames.
Roux left Mairin by one of the fires on the ground floor. “I will not desert you,” he promised her. “Only, I must report in first, then ask your question. Patience.”
“Of course. Thank you, Lieutenant.”
She stood by the fire, warming her hands. Time passed. Soldiers passing the fireplace would glance at her, startled, then move on without comment. They had far greater concerns on this day of defeat.
After more than an hour had passed, Lieutenant Roux returned. An officer was with him whom, from his insignia, Mairin guessed was a colonel.
Roux gestured to the man, who had ruddy cheeks and a full, dark beard. “My lady, may I present Colonel Vouclain, Commander of the Second Regiment of the French Foreign Legion. Commander, the Lady Mairin of Innesford.”
Vouclain bowed with the short nod the French preferred. “The Lieutenant explained to me your predicament. Your courage is to be commended, my lady, but you have come to the wrong place. Captain Davies is here no longer.”
Mairin clutched at the mantelshelf. “He’s alive…!”
“Very much so. He is one of our best officers. That is why we sent him to Algeria. We wanted to keep him out of Prussian hands.”
A CONTINGENT OF SOLDIERS would be departing for Algeria in four days’ time, once they were cleared by Prussia’s military to leave the city. Mairin pleaded to be allowed to travel with the company, for it would make her route to Algeria far less risky. Vouclain was against it. “A woman among men, even our most honorable Legionnaires…it is asking for trouble,” he said, looking grave.
“They will have no reason to stir trouble over me, I promise,” Mairin assured him. “I have a pistol and a knife and I know how to use both. You may inform them of that.”
Vouclain’s brows lifted high. “Indeed,” he murmured, studying her. “Now I do believe you and Captain Davies are cousins.”
“Iefan taught me to shoot,” Mairin told him. “I am very precise.”
Vouclain smiled. “I believe you, mademoiselle. Captain Davies is also very precise.” His smile faded. “Can you ride a horse like a man?”
“Yes,” Mairin said quickly, although she had never ridden astride in her life. She would wear men’s trousers beneath her gown and adjust as swiftly as was needed. “I am also willing to live roughly.”
“You will be quite cold and miserable,” Vouclain warned her. “At least, until you reach Africa. Well, I have warned you. I will warn the men, in turn. God be with you, my lady.”
Africa. Mairin shivered. She had never stepped foot outside Europe.
Chapter Seventeen
Jack! Jenny! Rhys! Come at once!” Annalies bellowed. It wasn’t ladylike to scream like a fishmonger’s wife, but needs must. The house was too large to go tramping over every inch of it looking for them. “Vaughn! Elisa! Natasha!”
“What on earth is all the din about, Anna?” Raymond said, from right behind her.
Annalies whirled. “Raymond, I didn’t know you were in the wing chair. I’m sorry. I just got a letter.”
Raymond held up one of his own. “As did I. The mail comes for everyone, Annalies.”
“It’s from Mairin.”
Raymond’s face clouded over. When Annalies had admitted her complicity and Mairin’s true destination, the day after Mairin had left, Raymond had been the most disapproving.
Natasha had paled and sought his hand. Raymond had been furious. “Without consulting us?” he had roared.
“You would not have let her go,” Annalies replied. She wanted to reach for Rhys’ hand, too, only it would be a sign of weakness. Rhys stood at her back, bless the man.
“Of course I would have forbid it!” Raymond shouted, the tendons in his neck working. “She is a young woman, traveling alone into a country at war! What on earth were you thinking?”
“Mairin is young and a woman, yes,” Annalies said, as calmly as she could. “However, she is older than Sadie was when Sadie left for America. Mairin shoots straighter than Sadie, too.”
“Shoots?” Natasha repeated, her voice bodiless.
Raymond’s lips parted. She had surprised him.
“And she carries a pistol,” Annalies added, driving home her advantage. “Mairin is not a fool. She has money which we gave her and knows how to hide it on her person, so it cannot be stolen.”
Raymond’s jaw worked. The fury in his eyes was fading.
“Money opens doors anywhere,” Vaughn said. “Natasha, I am sure Seth would have said much the same thing.”
Natasha frowned. “Seth could defend himself, too.”
“So can Mairin,” Annalies said. “She is far more capable than you know, or than you care to know. She is Seth’s daughter. She has his stubbornness. She would have gone to France with our help or without it. With our help, and knowing she can reach out to us if she needs it, she is in a much better position to reach Paris.”
Raymond’s jaw was still stiff, his spare hand bunched tightly. “You might have consulted with us. We are her…Natasha is her mother and my concern is no less than hers.”
“You would have said no and by saying no, you would have forced her to run away,” Annalies said, knowing that nothing but blunt speech would serve, now.
Raymond flinched.
Natasha pressed her hand to her temple. “I had no idea Mairin and Iefan were…that they even knew each other well.”
“I don’t think they understood the depth of the connection themselves,” Annalies said. “Conflict has a way of making one’s priorities crystal clear.”
“And what do we tell the Duke in the meantime?” Elisa asked.
“Mairin wrote him a letter before she left. I posted it myself,” Annalies said.
Elisa shook her head. “As usual, Annalies, you have arranged things to suit yourself. If this works out as you seem to think it might, then Iefan, who is too much like you for comfort, will be with a woman who is too much like Seth for anyone else’s comfort. That is a match wrought with sparks.”
Vaughn smiled. “It will keep the family on its toes, I suspect.”
“Maybe we need stirring up,” Natasha said lightly. “We have all become much too staid.”
Annalies thought of that tension-fraught moment as she watched Raymond holding his letter by the fire and frowning at the one she had lifted. “Mairin made it to Paris,” she said. “The day of the surrender. She spoke to one of the senior Foreign Regiment officers, who told her Iefan was in Algeria.”
Raymond rose to his feet, his frown deepening. “Algeria? Please tell me she has not set off for Africa.”
“Was that you screaming, Annalies?” Natasha asked, coming into the room. Jack and Jenny were behind her and Vaughn and Rhys were hurrying into the room from the other end of the house. They all gathered around the crackling fireplace to look at her.
Annalies relayed the contents of the letter, repeating what she had told Raymond.
“And…?” Raymond asked, his voice low.
“I’m sorry, Raymond. She was planning to travel with a unit of the Legionnaires to Oran. She wrote the letter ten days ago, so she would be in Spain by now, I imagine.”
Natasha moaned. “Oh, this is so much worse than France!”
Annalies nodded. “It is. I’m sorry. I didn’t think even Mairin had the courage needed to travel to such a place.” She looked at Raymond squarely. “I miscalculated.”
Raymond shook his head. “No, you forgot the true power of love,” he said.
Jack turned and strode to the archway into the front hall.
“Where are you going, Jack?” Vaughn called sharply.
Jack turned to face them. “Cian has the Natasha Marie tied up at Falmouth. It’s the faster clipper in his fleet. I can be in Falmouth by four o’clock. With the winds at this time of year, we can be sailing past Gibraltar in a week. With luck, we may even beat her there.”
“Then I’m coming with you,” Vaughn sa
id.
“No!” Elisa cried.
“No, Father,” Jack said just as loudly, as Jenny gave a little cry, too. “You and Rhys…I’m sorry, neither of you would fare well on the open sea in winter. It is rougher than you would believe out there. I’ve sailed with Cian several times and in winter, too. I think Daniel is home at the moment, so he can come with us.”
“I’m coming, too,” Raymond said. He held up a hand as Jack tried to speak. “If you say anything about age or constitutions, I will drop you where you stand and step over you.”
Jack’s eyes danced. “Then you had better pack quickly. I’m leaving as soon as I put on my coat.”
Raymond kissed Natasha fast and thoroughly and she clung to him. “Bring our daughter home,” she whispered.
“I will.” He spun to face Annalies. “As co-conspirator, you can continue your wily ways with communications. Send word to Ben and Peter in London. They may wish to be part of this and we can delay a day for them to reach Falmouth.”
“Morgan and Ben will be furious if they’re left out,” Annalies replied. “So will Jasper.”
“Then they should have chosen to live somewhere other than the far north,” Raymond replied. “We can’t delay long enough for them to reach here. Come hell or high water, we set sail tomorrow for Africa.”
NEARLY THREE WEEKS AFTER leaving Paris, Mairin stood upon the deck of the French military frigate Didon, shading her eyes against the dazzling sun, looking upon the bleached land of Algeria. They had just made the short crossing from Almeria, in Spain. Already she could see this was a very different world.
She was looking upon Oran, current headquarters of the French Foreign Legion in Africa. There were three forts dotted about the sprawling town of flat-roofed buildings as pale as the surrounding sand. Thousands of people, most of them wrapped to the nose in white cloth, both men and woman alike, swarmed about an area just beyond the wharf where the Didon was tied.
Captain Boucher came up to her side. “It is barren, eh?”
“It is quite different.”
He gestured with his finger to indicate her head. “Remember what I told you.”
Season of Denial (Scandalous Scions Book 7) Page 17