Regency Belles & Beaux

by Michele McGrath

  “I haven’t listened to my mother’s opinions since I was twelve years old. Both my parents disowned me when I fought my first duel with Staunton, so I don’t owe them any loyalty. My mother is interested in me now, only because my father and Julian are dead.”

  “Nevertheless, she wouldn’t want you to marry a penniless nobody, who she took in as her companion.”

  “I doubt she did it solely out of the goodness of her heart. If she did, it’s the first selfless action I have ever known her to make.”

  Grace grinned. “Oh, it was not selfless. I earned the small amount of money she paid me, but the fact remains that I was her servant.”

  “Well she’ll have to get used to the idea that her former companion is to be her daughter-in-law. Not that I shall tell her before the knot is tied; I don’t want her to spoil our wedding.”

  “I can’t imagine that there will be any wedding. If you marry it really should be someone of your own rank.”

  “I never cared for rank and, as for fortune, my inheritance is sufficient to support a bevy of penniless brides.”

  “Surely not a bevy,” Grace smiled at him.

  “I’ll settle for just one, if you will have me?”

  She opened her arms to him. He kissed her again and this time Grace let her true feelings show in the ardour with which she returned his kiss.

  “I must make arrangements to return to England,” Philip told her before he left the hotel. “I can’t leave at this moment with all the confusion in the ministry but very soon now the Emperor intends to join his armies. Our work will come to a halt until we know the outcome of his campaign. I’ll go once that happens but I would like you to keep to your original plan and travel on to the coast tomorrow.”

  “Trevor can take the coach but I want to wait for you.”

  “Paris isn’t a place for a single woman, especially not a foreigner. You might easily be interned.”

  “I have the passport you sent me. Surely that will enable me to leave when I wish? You said that you loved me. I love you too and I can’t bear not to know what is happening. Let us go together.”

  Philip frowned. “I don’t like it.”

  “Consider what you would feel if our positions were reversed. Would you be happy to leave me in an uncertain position?”

  Philip had an arrested look on his face and she saw that she had made her point.

  “No I would not, but if you are staying, it would be better if you removed from here where you are known to be English. I will ask Marco if he and his wife can give you a lodging until we leave.”

  It was too late for Philip to visit his friend that night and he walked home happier than he had been for a very long time. The future was uncertain, but he would move heart and soul to marry Grace. He knew that now. He allowed himself to daydream about their life together and was smiling when he pushed open the door of his apartment and found Agathe still there, sitting by the fire. She jumped up when she saw him.

  “Hello, what are you doing here so late?” he asked her in surprise.

  “Waiting for you, Monsieur Louis.”

  “Oh? Is there anything wrong?”

  “I stayed because there was something I wanted to tell you before you went out.”

  “Oh, what is that?”

  “I have to stop working for you.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m getting married and my husband doesn’t want me to go out to work any more.”

  “That’s wonderful news.” Philip got to his feet and found a bottle of wine and two glasses. “Let’s drink to your future happiness and then you must tell me all about it.”

  He started to pour the wine but Agathe caught his hand and stopped him.

  “Do you really mean that, Monsieur Louis? You’re pleased that I am going to be leaving you?”

  “Of course. I want you to be happy…” His voice trailed away as he saw the tears in her eyes. “What is it, Agathe, tell me? Don’t you want to be married?”

  “I want to be married but not to Gilles, so I haven’t accepted his proposal yet. I had to see you first.”

  “But why? You don’t need my permission to marry him. What’s wrong?”

  “Oh, Monsieur Louis, it’s you I love, not him. Do you ever think of me at all?”

  Philip set his glass down and pushed Agathe gently into a chair.

  “I had no idea.”

  “I know you didn’t. When Madame was alive, you couldn’t see anyone but her. I understood that, because she told me you had grown up together and had always been sweethearts. When she died, I hoped that you would turn to me and you did in a small way but I want more than that. I don’t want to be your friend or your servant, Monsieur, I want to be your lover.”

  “I don’t know what to say.” He poured a glass of wine and drank it in one hurried motion. His thoughts whirled. It was impossible, of course, even if he had never met Grace. Agathe was a nice girl, but they did not possess a thought in common. He could not imagine spending his life with her. He was searching for a way to tell her gently when she continued,

  “Why do you think I was always here, waiting for you whenever you returned? Why did I agree to come with you to Grenoble, even though Maman was against the idea? It was difficult to persuade her to give her consent, but I managed to do so. Why did I stay with you when there is really very little for me to do now Madame is gone?” She faced him squarely. “It was for love of you, Monsieur. Please say that you love me too.”

  He reached over and brushed the tears from her cheek.

  “Agathe, I’m so sorry…”

  “You never thought of me in that way, did you?”

  “I loved Celia. I never looked at anyone else since I met her.”

  “Even now, when she has been in her grave for months?”

  “Even now.” He took a deep breath, before he lied to her. “I doubt I shall ever feel that way again.” Better that she should think his heart was frozen than know the truth.

  “Look at me!” Agathe stood up, facing him. “Look at me! I’m a living woman. People tell me that I’m pretty and have a good figure. I’m a hard worker and I love you. What’s wrong with me? Why can’t you love me in return?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with you,” Philip replied. “I’m fond of you and I appreciate all you do for me, but I don’t love you in that way, Agathe, not as I loved Celia. You deserve better than the man I have become.”

  “You’re a fool, Monsieur Louis. I would work all my life to make you happy. If you didn’t want to marry me, I would even live with you as your mistress, despite what Maman would say. But I won’t stay where I’m not wanted. If that’s how you really feel, there’s an end to it. Now I hope that I never see you again. You’ve broken my heart.” She snatched up her bonnet and shawl and ran out of the room.

  Philip kept staring at the door as he remembered their months together. He had always considered her to be a helpful friend, not as a young and passionate woman. Would it have been different if he had not been so distracted by grief? He shivered. It would have been so easy to cross the line in his dealings with her. Agathe was prettier than Celia had been at the end if he was truthful, but he could not imagine himself putting his arm around her and kissing her.

  Thank God she does not know that Grace has returned. It will hurt her less to think that I’m still in love with a ghost.

  He was too agitated to sleep. The wine in the bottle sank and he opened another. Eventually he developed a throbbing headache. At least I did not make use of her was his last thought before he closed his eyes. I hope she will be happy with her Gilles and soon forget me. But in that hope he was to be disappointed.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Next day, Philip visited Marco and asked him about Grace. Giulia, Marco’s wife, was only too happy to offer her somewhere to stay. Philip paid the hotel and together they saw the coach start off for the coast. Grace had given Trevor, the coachman, a letter to Edward and Alice, explaining what had happened. He promis
ed to deliver it as soon as his master and mistress returned. When they were alone, Philip told Grace about Agathe.

  “Poor girl, and you did not realise?”

  “It never occurred to me. For months, I grieved for Celia and then, when I had started to recover, I met you. Agathe was just someone in the background. I must have been blind.”

  “Let’s hope that she forgets you and marries her Gilles.”

  Although he felt uncomfortable about his thoughtlessness, Philip very soon forgot about Agathe. The bureau kept him busy and he spent every evening with Grace. He gave up his apartment and moved nearer to Marco’s. He had thought about doing so ever since Celia’s death, but had not wanted to deprive Agathe of her occupation. The day after her shattering revelation, he left. The new lodgings were better than the old ones and closer to his workplace.

  One evening, he was working late and was alone in the bureau when MacDonald came in.

  “What’s this rumour that I’ve been hearing about you?”

  “What rumour?” Philip asked as he put down his pen and leaned back in his chair. He was prepared for the usual sort of revelation. Stories about people’s personal life were commonplace and often entertaining.

  “Two police agents were asking about you. They suggested that you are really an Englishman in disguise, not a Frenchman at all.”

  Philip made himself laugh, although a shiver ran down his spine. “They must be mad. You’ve known me for years. Do you think I’m English?”

  “I don’t know, mon ami, are you?”

  “With a name like MacDonald, why aren’t they asking about you?”

  “They probably are, but it’s you they’re concerned about right now. Someone told them that you had foreign friends, with whom you spent a lot of time, and that you killed an Englishman in a duel.”

  Philip shrugged but he felt icy cold. He thought rapidly. MacDonald was a shrewd man so it was not a good idea to lie to him. Then he realised that there was no reason why he should deny either accusation.

  “My sister married an Englishman in the summer. I met him when they arrived in Paris a few weeks ago. One of my grandparents was English.” He smiled, thinking in fact two of them were. “Put those two facts together and of course I’m English. Their informant did not tell you that the rest of my family are French and I can prove it. As for the duel, that is also correct, but the story has been twisted. The man insulted me when I was in London last year carrying messages for the Emperor. An affair of a lady’s honour, you understand. We never got a chance to settle our differences because I had to return home. His friend recognised me at the Salle and my enemy came to Paris to find me. I didn’t intend to kill him but his bullet hit me in the arm and caused me to fall. It knocked up my arm, unhappily for him, and I made the best shot of my life by pure accident.”

  “I see.”

  “What are you going to do about this? Denounce me to the Police? I’m not a traitor to the Emperor.”

  “I never thought you were, but I had to ask. Rumours like these don’t do the Ministry any good.”

  “Will you speak to the Police, or shall I?”

  “I’ll do it, since I’m likely to be more tactful and I don’t want them sniffing around anymore. Trust them to hear a whisper and make it into a conspiracy.”

  For all that he had answered MacDonald’s enquiry, Philip was uneasy. The fact that the Police would now be watching him was unfortunate. If they dug too deeply, there were things he did not want to be discovered. That evening Philip cut short his usual visit to Grace and went to see Victor.

  “No. Of course I haven’t spoken to anyone about you. Why should I? Who else knows your secrets?”

  “Your parents, but they are too far away and I would never suspect them. Marco, who has no reason to betray me. Grace is staying with him and his wife until I am free to take her home.”

  “The information must have been laid recently, or you’d already be in gaol.”

  “If Marco has betrayed me, there’s no one I can trust.”

  “You would wager your life on him?”

  “I would, as I would wager it on you.”

  “What about the girl then?”

  “I love Grace and she loves me.”

  “Not Grace, idiot! The little servant who used to work for you.”

  “Agathe only knows part of the story but she may have told her mother.”

  “Or others. You said, the last time I saw you, that she parted from you in anger. A woman scorned?”

  “Perhaps. It’s possible I suppose.”

  “It seems to me that whoever laid the information did not know everything. Not enough to arrest you immediately.”

  “Agathe you mean?”

  “Or someone close to her.”

  “But why? I’ve never done her any harm.”

  “Revenge or money. Police agents pay informers as you are aware. Finding an English spy in the Foreign Ministry would be a triumph for them. Give them an excuse to rant against ‘Perfidious Albion’ as if we did not have spies of our own in every country in Europe.”

  “Even if I’m no such thing?”

  “You’ll find it hard to prove your innocence, if they discover your real identity. What did Celia call you?”

  “Philip, of course.”

  “Not Louis?”

  “I never used ‘Louis’ in England, although it’s another of my names.”

  “And Agathe heard Celia call you ‘Philip’?”

  He nodded.

  “Didn’t she ask why you used two names?”

  “I told her that it was my childhood name but I preferred Louis as an adult.”

  “Then the police have a place to start, if she is their informant. An Englishman called Philip. Did anyone mention ‘Sutherland’ in her hearing?”

  “I can’t be sure.”

  “Let’s hope Agathe isn’t the one. You have been indiscreet, mon brave. She knows too much about you. Once the Police know who you are, it will be simple for them to find out everything. If I were you, I wouldn’t stay in France any longer.”

  “Easy enough for you to say, but where can I go? Because I killed Staunton, I may be arrested in England and now I must leave France. Then there is Grace to be thought of.”

  “You’ll do her no good if you end up in prison or worse. The Emperor isn’t merciful to spies and if you believe he’ll listen to your story, you’re mad. Why do you want to stay here?”

  “I don’t, but it’s been my home for years and everything has happened so suddenly.”

  “Then be on the first stagecoach out of Paris in the morning. Take Grace with you or leave her here with me and I’ll make sure she joins you as soon as possible.”

  The cousins debated long into the night considering Philip’s options.

  “I’ll write to MacDonald telling him that I’m leaving. I owe him that.”

  “Write to him by all means, but tell him you’re sick. If you say that you have gone away, the police will be after you before the cat can lick her ear. They may even have followed you here. Did you go anywhere else this evening?”

  “Marco’s.”

  “Then don’t go back there. I’ll carry any messages for you, if they don’t arrest me first as your accomplice. We’ll have to be careful when we leave here.”

  Philip ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “Stupid of me not to think about that. What will you do?”

  “Hide somewhere until the fuss dies down. It should do, given enough time and it’s you they’re after not me.”

  “I’m sorry I dragged you into this. You’re right of course. My thoughts must be disordered.”

  Victor poured the last of the wine into Philip’s glass. “Drink and sleep here tonight. You need to be more alert in the morning, we both do.”

  Next day, the two cousins made a reconnaissance of the area before they left the apartment block. They could not see anyone outside so Victor led Philip to a little used entrance. Philip gave Victor the letter h
e had written to MacDonald, who took it and said,

  “I’ll get someone to deliver it for me. I want people to forget that I’m your cousin. Don’t tell me where you’re going, then if I’m asked I can’t give you away. Write to Papa once you know what’s happening. He will send me your news. Good luck.”

  “Thank you for all you have done for me, Victor. I’m deeply in your debt.”

  “I’ll remind you of that one day, never fear.”

  Victor embraced him and the cousins parted, going swiftly in different directions. Philip returned to his lodgings, although it was risky. He needed his money to pay for his journey, which he had, as usual hidden under the floorboards. He packed up his few belongings and paid his debts. No one disturbed him or seemed to be following him, when he occasionally looked behind. He was unsure what to do next. It would be sensible to go to the nearest place where the diligences left Paris, but he could not bear the thought of leaving without seeing Grace once more. He turned around again but saw no one, so he decided to take a risk. He changed direction and made his way to Marco’s. He was nearly there, walking down the street, when two men approached him from the opposite direction. He stepped aside to let them pass and would have continued into the building when one of them grabbed him by the arm and halted him.

  “Louis de Vezey?”

  “That’s him, that’s the man you want,” a voice shouted. Philip saw a young workman, who was totally unknown to him.

  “You’re to come with us!”

  “Who are you?” Philip asked. As he spoke, a movement caught his eye. A woman was standing half hidden behind the workman and suddenly Philip saw Agathe, a look of triumph on her face. He did not have time to react. A club hit his head and the world became black.

  Chapter Sixteen

  It was late when Marco came home from the Salle to find Grace anxiously waiting for him.

  “Have you seen Philip?” she asked as soon as he opened the door. “He should have been here by now.”

  “No. I haven’t seen him all day,” Marco replied. “I expected him to be with you as usual. Perhaps he is still working at the bureau.”