by Stella Riley
Athenais glanced up briefly, then returned to the letter. She said, ‘He’s sorry?’
‘It would appear so.’
‘Good. So he should be.’
‘Don’t be too hard on him. Apologies don’t come easily to royalty.’ Ashley grinned at Francis. ‘I’ll tell you all about it later. First, it occurred to me that if I’m to stand up with you at your wedding, I should probably stand beside you while you lie to the priest about your religion. What do you think?’
~ * * ~ * * ~
SEVENTEEN
The morning of the wedding dawned dry and sunny. Leaving Ashley to make sure Francis was properly turned-out, Athenais devoted herself to looking after Pauline. This, she soon realised, was easier said than done.
‘Will you stop fussing?’ said Pauline, sounding more anxious and impatient than Athenais thought reasonable. ‘The gown is fine, my hair is fine and the flowers are beautiful. Now will you please go away and get ready yourself or we’ll be late.’
‘You’re allowed to be late. It’s the bride’s prerogative. Or do you think Francis will come to his senses and make a run for it if you keep him waiting?’
‘What I think is that I’d like some peace and quiet in which to compose myself … and that I’d prefer you to follow me to church without your hair falling down your back.’
‘I can be ready in minutes.’
‘No, Athenais. You can’t. You’ll bundle your hair up, stick a few pins in it and think that will do. It won’t. Also, you’re not wearing that gown.’
Athenais looked down at the second-hand blue taffeta that had resumed its place as her best dress since the Marquis had destroyed the beautiful leaf-green one. She said, ‘Why not? There’s nothing wrong with it. And this is your day. No one’s going to be looking at me.’
‘I am. And since he’s barely taken his eyes off you in the last four days, so is the Colonel. So go and fetch your new gown and bring it here so I can lace you into it. Then I’ll do something with your hair.’
‘But --’
‘No buts,’ said Pauline firmly. ‘As you just pointed out, this is my day and I demand to be humoured. Now fetch the damned gown – and no tripping off to find Ashley. There’ll be time enough for that later.’
‘Mother of God,’ grumbled Athenais, heading for the door. ‘If this is what you’re like, goodness only knows what state Francis is in.’
* * *
Upstairs in the attic, Francis was fully-dressed with the exception of his coat and lounging easily in the room’s only chair while Ashley stopped shaving for possibly the fourth time to say, ‘It’s insane, isn’t it?’
‘Very possibly.’
‘Is that all you can say?’
‘Since I don’t know which of the various schemes you’ve hatched is the one currently under discussion – yes.’
‘I was thinking of the cellar.’ He hadn’t been but the topic was as good as any. ‘It won’t work, will it? There’ll never be sufficient light.’
‘We won’t know until we try. Do you think you might finish shaving? Aside from the fact that the water’s probably cold by now, the wedding’s in an hour.’
Ashley turned back to the mirror, the razor poised in his hand. ‘Also --’
‘Stop,’ said Francis, with unusual firmness. ‘Unless you don’t mind ending up covered in nicks and scrapes, you can’t shave and talk at the same time. So finish what you’re doing and leave the talking to me.’ He contemplated, with regret, the state of his boots which, though well-polished, were still sadly scuffed. ‘In essence, the idea’s a good one. If you can teach someone like Etienne Lepreux to handle a sword without tripping over it, you can teach anyone. And finding pupils won’t be very difficult if we put the word out at the theatre. Froissart might even agree to put something on the playbill. As for the cellar … it’s only meant to be a temporary measure until you can afford to rent somewhere more suitable. So no, it’s not insane. In fact, it’s surprising you didn’t think of it months ago.’
Ashley finished shaving and wiped the last traces of soap from his face before reaching for his shirt. Whilst engaged in pulling it over his head, he said in somewhat muffled tones, ‘And the other thing?’
Francis grinned and waited for the tawny-gold head to reappear.
‘Oh that’s definitely insane. And I, for one, can’t wait to see how you expect to manage it. As for the matter of Charles … well, that will be interesting.’
‘Or not. As the case may be.’
‘Quite.’ Francis came unhurriedly to his feet and picked up his coat. ‘For the moment, however, it might be as well if you concentrated on the task in hand. Such as putting on your boots, perhaps?’
* * *
On the floor below, Athenais stood patiently under Pauline’s ministrations but couldn’t help saying, ‘This is all wrong, you know. You shouldn’t be dressing me on your wedding-day.’
‘Why not? I’ve been doing it for years, after all – and it gives me something to think about.’
‘Do you need something to think about? I’d have thought Francis was enough.’
‘He is. But I never expected to actually marry him. And if you really want to know, the whole thing scares me silly.’
‘Then it shouldn’t. Don’t you know how incredibly lucky you are?’
‘Yes. That’s why it scares me silly.’
Pauline stepped back and took a look at her protégée. The amethyst and moonstone chain circled the slender white throat while the silver-grey brocade reflected the colour of Athenais’s eyes and was a perfect foil for the dark red curls – now tamed into becoming submission. Pauline nodded thoughtfully and said, ‘Not bad. It just needs a finishing touch.’
‘No. It doesn’t. Anyone would think I was about to go on-stage. Though God only knows what role --’ She stopped abruptly as Pauline picked up two white silk roses and said, ‘Now what are you doing?’
‘Completing the picture,’ replied Pauline absently as she expertly positioned the flowers just above Athenais’s left ear. And then, ‘Yes. That will do, I think.’
Athenais spread her hands in a gesture of helplessness.
‘I give up.’ And then, returning Pauline’s regard, she said, ‘You look lovely, you know.’
‘I look as well as can be expected,’ came the typical retort. ‘As to why all the fuss … there’s a reason for it – beyond the not inconsiderable fact of getting married, that is.’ She paused and then said tersely, ‘You know the Colonel went to make his peace with the King and that fellow Hyde?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, from something Francis let slip, I don’t think that’s all he did.’
Athenais stared at her, not sure whether to be horrified or give way to laughter.
‘You think he invited King Charles to your wedding? Seriously?’
‘I suspect he may have done. And if His Majesty turns up with half the court-in-exile – your interfering Colonel can look forward to hearing my view on the subject later.’ Pauline smiled grimly. ‘Not that he’s likely to enjoy it.’
* * *
The ceremony was to take place in the convent church of Sainte-Croix de la Bretonnerie which lay only a short walk away. Consequently, when Pauline and Athenais made their way downstairs, they found Francis and Ashley waiting in the hall to escort them. Smiling, Francis bowed flamboyantly over Pauline’s hands before raising them to his lips and whispering something in her ear that brought a tinge of colour to her cheeks. Ashley’s bow was more restrained and he said nothing at all; but the look in his eyes when they rested on Athenais was eloquent enough.
‘Jem?’ he called. ‘Are you joining us or not?’
‘Coming, Colonel. Just been helping Suzon out with a few things for after.’ And he sauntered out of the kitchen.
Ashley took one look at him and said, ‘Oh my God. You can’t wear that.’
‘I don’t see as I can’t.’ Jem smoothed the sleeve of his beloved blue and yellow livery. ‘Looks right s
mart, I reckon.’
‘That’s not the point. You were supposed to return it.’
‘Well, clearly he didn’t,’ said Pauline, taking Francis’s arm and heading towards the door. ‘And if we wait for him to change, we’ll be late – so he’d better come as he is. And if it causes any problems, you can blame yourself for them.’
Just for a second, Ashley communed silently with the ceiling. Then, looking ruefully at Athenais, he said, ‘Has she been like that all morning?’
‘Most of it.’ She smiled up at him. ‘You’re in her black books, you know.’
‘I gathered that. Fortunately, I’m becoming immune to it.’
The porch of the small church was crammed with their witnesses, all of them seemingly talking at once. Petit-Jean Laroque was there, and Antoine Froissart with his wife, Amalie; Etienne Lepreux had Athenais’s understudy, Delphine, on his arm and the pair were flanked by André and Marcel, Ashley’s former pupils; further away and leaning negligently against the wall, Cyrano bathed all of them in his usual wolfish smile. There was, however, no sign of royalty – for which Athenais assumed Pauline was duly grateful.
After both ladies had kissed Pauline’s cheek and the men had either shaken Francis’s hand or slapped him on the shoulder, everyone trooped inside. Candlelight flickered in the dim interior and the air was redolent with incense from an earlier service. Francis led Pauline down the aisle towards the place where Père Henri, the priest of Sainte-Croix, stood awaiting them. Ashley and Athenais followed just a few steps behind and their assembled guests found places in the front pews. The stage was set.
The priest, a small, plump fellow with rosy cheeks, smiled happily at Francis and then looked around enquiringly. He said, ‘Monsieur Wroxton … I was expecting to marry two couples today. Is this no longer the case?’
His words produced a sudden silence as Delphine and Amalie stopped fussing with their skirts and something André was whispering to Etienne died mid-sentence. Everyone glanced at each other before turning their heads to see if anyone else had entered the church.
‘No, Father. It is still very much the case,’ said Francis smoothly. And, looking round at Ashley, ‘Your cue, I believe.’
Athenais stared at Francis in complete bewilderment. Then, as a possible interpretation of his words slid around the edges of her mind, she turned very, very slowly to Ashley and said, ‘I don’t understand. What is happening?’
His kept his eyes fixed on hers so that he wouldn’t have to see the dozen people watching him embark on what suddenly didn’t seem such a good idea after all and could well turn out to be a terrible mistake. Taking her hands in what he hoped was a comforting clasp, he said, ‘I have a question. And I thought that, if I asked it in front of our friends, you might be – either sufficiently impressed or sufficiently sorry for me – to say yes.’
‘Oh.’ Athenais discovered that she felt slightly faint and knew her hands were shaking. If the ceiling had fallen on her head, she couldn’t have been more shocked than she was by what she suspected he was going to say next. ‘And – and the question?’
‘I think you know.’ He dropped to one knee in front of her to the accompaniment of sentimental sighs from Delphine and Amalie. ‘I will love you to the end of my life and honour you with every breath in my body. And that being so, I am laying my heart, my hand and my name at your feet in the hope that you’ll accept them. In short, I’m asking if you will overlook the fact that I’m not much of a catch and consent to be my wife.’
Without warning, Athenais’s eyes filled with tears. She tugged unavailingly at his hands and said unsteadily, ‘Get up. You shouldn’t be kneeling to me. And you don’t need to do this. I never expected it of you.’
Ashley stayed where he was.
‘I know you didn’t. And, until very recently, it seemed an impossibility I didn’t dare contemplate. As for what I need to do … this is it.’ He smiled up at her. ‘I want to marry you, Athenais. I always have.’
As custom demanded, the door of the church had been left open and the little congregation were so wrapped up in the drama taking place before them that no one except the priest realised that a latecomer had, for some time, been standing silently at the back. Then a deep, resonant voice said, ‘My sincerest apologies for interrupting, Ash. But I have to observe that, if the lady hasn’t said yes yet, you must be making a shocking poor job of it.’
Those who recognised the exiled King of England immediately shot to their feet and made the correct obeisance. The rest, startled and confused, took a little longer. In the meantime, Charles strolled down the aisle nodding to Laroque and Froissart before pausing to say, ‘Ah. Monsieur de Bergerac. No longer indulging in role-play, I see.’
Cyrano bowed. ‘A good actor always knows when to quit the stage, Your Majesty.’
‘Just so.’
Charles arrived at the front of the church and came to rest between Francis and Ashley, not troubling to hide his amusement.
Ashley said, ‘You’ll have to forgive me for not rising, Sir – but I’m sure you appreciate my difficulty.’
‘Completely.’ The lazy smile encompassed Athenais. ‘I don’t doubt that you could do much better for yourself, Mademoiselle … but he’s not such a bad fellow, you know. So if you could put him out of his misery, I’m sure he’d be eternally grateful. He can’t get off his knees until you do, you see.’
Athenais looked up into the dark, Stuart eyes, then down into Ashley’s green ones … and discovered that the latter were filled with laughter. The shock of the King’s arrival, hard on the heels of his proposal had scattered her wits to the point where, had Ashley released her hands just then, she might have hit him. And all around were watching eyes and a silence so acute it seemed that everyone was holding their breath.
Inevitably, it was Pauline who broke the spell.
She said caustically, ‘For God’s sake, Athenais. Say yes and have done with it.’
‘Forget Ashley’s misery and think of mine,’ added Francis with mock-anxiety. ‘I’d like to marry Pauline today, if possible – as a delay may give her the chance to change her mind.’
Athenais drew a long, steadying breath and looked back at Ashley. The laughter was still there but now it was mixed with something that tore at her heart. She shook her head and managed to say raggedly, ‘Yes. Of course I’ll marry you. I will do anything you ask except leave you. But later on, I’ll probably murder you.’
There was a ripple of laughter. Ashley ignored it. Light flared in his eyes and, rising, he pulled Athenais into his arms and kissed her, long and hard. The laughter around them became an appreciative round of applause.
By the time he let her go, her skin was flushed and her hair, coming unravelled but she turned to Charles Stuart, dropped a deep curtsy and said a trifle breathlessly, ‘I hope Your Majesty will make allowances. From everything that’s happened so far, it’s clear that Colonel Peverell’s mind has become slightly unhinged.’
‘And if it has,’ retorted Charles, taking a long, appreciative look at her, ‘who shall we blame for that?’ Then, seeing her look of confusion, he turned to the priest and said, ‘Perhaps we can now proceed, Father? And unless either of these lovely brides has any objection, I would like to stand in loco parentis to both of them.’
And so Père Henri was finally able to begin the marriage service which was as remarkable in its way as anything that had gone before. By the time it was over, Delphine and Amalie were mopping their eyes and more than one of the gentlemen present was finding the dusty air a trial.
Charles kissed both brides with more enthusiasm than either groom thought necessary and then made a tactful exit. The rest of the party surged back to the Rue des Rosiers for cakes and wine and then lingered until Cyrano de Bergerac announced that it was time for everyone to leave the bridal party in peace.
‘Thank you,’ said Ashley, shaking his hand. ‘I’m in your debt. Again.’
‘And one of these days, I’ll come seeking payment,�
� replied Cyrano. And looking at Athenais, ‘You realise that half the young men in Paris are going to want to kill you?’
‘Then they can come here and pay for the privilege of trying,’ shrugged Ashley. And briefly explained his idea for a modest fencing school in the cellar.
A few feet away, Monsieur Laroque had been ensuring that both Athenais and Pauline would be back on-stage the following evening but all three of them stopped talking in order to hear what Ashley was saying.
When he had finished, Athenais said, ‘That’s a wonderful idea. But exactly when were you planning on telling me about it?’
He slipped an arm around her waist.
‘I rather thought you’d had enough shocks for one day.’
‘The cellar?’ asked Pauline. ‘Isn’t it too dark?’
‘It’s not ideal. But it will do until I can afford something better.’
‘It is possible,’ murmured Monsieur Laroque thoughtfully, ‘that I may be able to help you with that. There is an outbuilding off the rear courtyard at the theatre. It’s been unused for years, so I imagine it will require some work – but it’s probably better suited to your purposes than a cellar.’ He paused and gave Ashley a dry smile. ‘Come and see it. If you want it, I’m sure we can reach some mutually agreeable arrangement. And now, I’ll bid you all goodnight.’
And with a slight bow in the direction of Athenais and Pauline, he strolled out, leaving Ashley staring incredulously after him.
Cyrano clapped him on the back.
‘There, my friend. Maybe I’ll come and test your skill myself some time.’
‘As often as you like,’ returned Ashley. ‘I suspect I’ll be glad of the challenge.’
When all the guests had gone and Jem had retired to the kitchen with Suzon, Pauline collapsed on the sofa beside Francis, while Athenais curled up on Ashley’s lap.
‘That,’ remarked Francis, idly taking down his wife’s hair, ‘was definitely a wedding to remember.’
Pauline smiled. ‘That unfortunate priest will certainly have a hard time forgetting it.’