A wagon with matching horses and without the driver stood outside the chapel. Had that guard brought the goods here?
Her ire rose. Why had he not gone back to the king?
Storming though the door, she stopped in her tracks. The priest looked up from where he stood with the man.
“Madame LeSuere, we were just speaking of you. Might I introduce you to Monsieur de Grillet?”
The guard stepped forward. “We have met.” For a man of his stature his voice tremored like that of a frightened child.
“Of course, we have met. He attempted to bring that wagon load of guilty penance to my door a bit ago.” Father François should have known that fact.
“Oui, that was I, but we met before that. Madame, I came on my own. This is not from His Majesty.” The man stood nearly bent from some invisible weight.
“I do not recall meeting you in the past and cannot understand why you would bring me such a wagon load.” Knowing His Majesty had not sent him cooled the fire in her belly, but now her curiosity roused.
“You must tell her, my son.” The priest put his hand on the guard’s arm and nodded.
Monsieur de Grillet raised his head. The eyes that looked on her were filled with something akin to shame.
“Tell me what?”
“I am the one who whipped you, Madame LeSuere. I was wrong to have done so and have regretted it every instant since.”
For a moment, Josephine felt she might drown in the flood of emotion whirling over her. Then one buoyed her, bringing her to the surface. She found compassion for this man’s suffering. It was obvious he suffered.
“I forgive you.” The words cost her, but not what she feared. And with them she found the look on the man’s face healing to her own soul. “Now I must go to light a candle.” One to match the flame of hope rekindled in her heart.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Antoine brought Louise to the palace of St Germain-en-Laye the following Monday. She moved slower than normal, but at least she moved under her own power. He made the carriage as comfortable as possible, and kept the driver going at a measured pace. What should have taken forty-five minutes stretched out to over two hours.
He had been apprehensive about bringing her back to court. The Marquise was still the favorite, though Albert had delivered news that eased Antoine’s mind. She had been sent on to Paris, to the Louvre Palace, to begin her confinement and would not be enjoying the fun at St Germain. Louise would be safe.
Mimi escorted Louise to her room, tucking her into bed amid much complaint, which filtered through the door. Even amidst the protests, Antoine knew Louise was grateful to have Mimi assigned to her during her stay at this palace.
When finally settled, Mimi let him in.
“I am tired of bed. Antoine, please tell her I do not need this.”
“A short nap will not harm you, my love. After you rest I will take you anywhere you wish.” Antoine knew as soon as he said the words, he needed to qualify them.
“Anywhere?” Her eyes danced at his expense.
“Within reason.”
“Whose reason?” Louise tried to look stern, but her face broke into the smile that lit up rooms.
“My reason, and you need to rest. So, when I return, we can go where you choose, within my reason, provided you have rested. Are we agreed?”
She surrendered, lying back against her pillows. “I acquiesce only to you, my love. Do not be long.”
“I shan’t.” He brushed a kiss across her lips, longing for more, and left her there to rest. There was something urgent he needed to gain.
The Office of the Grand Marshal most often was quite busy, but Antoine arrived during a lull. Granted an audience, he entered, hat in hand. “Monsieur, I have a need to speak with His Majesty. Might you arrange an audience?”
“Could you tell me what this is about?”
“I would prefer not to as it is personal and involves His Majesty’s cousin.” Antoine could feel heat rise in his cheeks while his fingers crumpled his brim.
The Marquis stared back, but soon a knowing smile spread over his face. He chuckled. “I will see if he is now available.”
Antoine waited, tapping his heel, until the Marquis returned.
“You may go in.” The Grand Marshal of France winked at him.
Antoine straightened his spine and approached the king with his request.
“Antoine, my friend, I understand Louise was to return to court today. Has she yet arrived?”
“Oui, Your Majesty, a few moments ago.”
“You would like to confer with me regarding . . .?”
“Oui.” Antoine paused, squeezed his eyes closed for a second, and plunged in. “I would like to request a small leave in order to accompany Mademoiselle de Saix to her home after the arrival of her aunt.”
“For any particular reason, may I ask?” His Majesty queried, his smirk belying his intuition.
“I wish to ask her father for her hand in marriage, if that is pleasing to you, Your Majesty.”
The king sat up straight, his chin slightly elevated. “And if it is not?”
Antoine’s heart stopped. “I, ah, do not know.” His Majesty’s blessing had never been considered a problem.
“Then, perhaps you do not love her enough,” he paused, “or maybe you are the loyal friend I have always thought you to be.” His Majesty smiled. “Of course, it is to my liking. I am very happy for you. I grant you my blessing.
“However, I should inform you of something. I am putting together an expedition of relief to go to Crete now that the treaty with the Turks has been signed. I will handpick the group in a week and plan to include you in the group. We leave September first. You will postpone your wedding until you get back, n’est-ce pas?”
Breath returned, and Antoine could feel his pulse in his throat. “I have yet to ask Louise or speak to her father. There may not be a wedding to postpone. But, oui, I will let Louise know, should she agree, that we will need to wait until the spring.” He bowed, though his legs shook. “Merci, Your Majesty, for your permission and most of all for your blessing.”
“You are most welcome. Only remember you must be here in time to leave with the expedition. Now, do not just stand there. Go ask her so I will know. I hate the suspense.” His Majesty’s laughter echoed as he raced from the throne room.
* * *
Rapping at the door as quietly as he could, Antoine waited for Mimi to open. “Is she asleep?”
She put her finger to her lips and let him in.
“You do not have to whisper over there. I am awake.” Louise pushed herself up higher on her pillows. Her hair splayed about her shoulders, shining soft like a halo.
“Did you rest?” He covered the distance, longing to run his hands through her tresses.
“Oui, Nurse.” She tipped her chin up.
Sitting on the edge of her bed, he grabbed her chin between his knuckle and thumb, his eyebrow cocked. “Nurse, is it?”
“If you continue to treat me as an invalid, it is.” She wrapped her arms about his neck. “Might we please go for a walk in the garden?”
Antoine moaned, unable to resist, but knowing he must hold her off a short while more. “How would you feel about a small party in the garden? That meal outside by the fountains you were telling me about?”
“We can do that?” Her strangle hold about his neck attempted to cut off his air.
He loosened her arms and kissed her forehead. “Oui. You dress, and I will make the arrangements.”
“And Mimi is coming.” Not even a question.
The maid looked about to argue but bit her lip and nodded.
“Oui, I know, I will also bring Albert.” Antoine stood. Leaning over, he kissed her and left before he did something rasher than he planned to do.
* * *
“Now remember, you will need to take Mademoiselle Roché off for a walk so I might ask Louise. Or, maybe I should wait until I speak with her father. What if she is not willin
g, and I ask her father first?” The beat of Antoine’s heart pounded so loud in his ears. He was surprised Albert could not hear it.
“Stop looking for trouble. There is enough of it in this world without you creating more from your imagination. Are you quite sure you want me to go along?”
“This is per Louise. She and Mademoiselle Roché think they have planned the outing. You are going, and you will help me. We are agreed?”
“Oui, agreed.” Albert chuckled. “Better you than I.”
Antoine punched him on the arm, but in spite of the teasing, he knew this was right. It was what he was meant to do. He only hoped Louise felt the same.
When Antoine knocked at the door, the two women came out, ready to go. He led the way with Louise, Albert followed behind with Mimi.
Antoine had begun preparing for this outing as soon as Louise broached the subject of a celebration. Now a table stood ready in the garden, surrounded by elegant chairs. He feared sitting on the ground might be harder on her bruised body.
Set with exquisite china and crystal, the table was topped by an enormous basket in the center.
“Oh, Antoine, you have outdone yourself.” Louise squeezed his arm and planted a kiss on his cheek. He understood her message, but the gesture was highly unsatisfactory. However, in public, it would have to suffice.
The men seated the women, and Antoine played host.
“What have you provided this time, Monsieur?” Louise reached toward the basket.
Antoine smacked her hand back and wagged his finger under her nose. “Not so fast, Mademoiselle. You need to mind your manners and let me serve you.”
She pouted, but only briefly. “Very well.”
“First, I have some cold pheasant.” He withdrew a package from the basket and passed it first to Louise, who in turn offered to Mimi. The men helped themselves after the women had their portion.
“Next, we have these delicious sauvignons which escaped the monks and their casks. The royal chef has an arrangement with a monastery near Orleans, I believe.” Antoine winked while bringing forth a smaller basket brimming with delicious white grapes. He again passed it to Louise and reached back into the larger basket. “And what would this tasteful meal be without a bondon of Neufchatel, one per person?” He held up four small, white briquettes and handed them out with knives. A crusty brown bread followed.
“Have you nothing to drink in your magic container?” Albert held out his goblet.
“Patience, my man.” Antoine scowled.
“Patience, nothing, I thirst. What have you to drink?”
Louise laughed, but Mimi still watched her fingers play with the tablecloth.
“Wait for your turn. I serve the ladies first, knave.” Antoine pulled a bottle from the basket. “A lovely champagne to tickle your fancy as well as your palette.”
“I believe I recall you saying something like that before.” The smile on the face of his love told him she remembered it all.
“Enough talk. Just pour.”
Antoine rolled his eyes. “Some people are simply born uncouth.” Winking at the women, he filled their glasses before sharing with Albert and himself. He stood and raised his goblet. “A toast.” While the others stood, Antoine closed his eyes and thought deep. “To kindness, to mercy, and to friends. May we always know and be known by all three.”
The others touched their glasses to his in agreement and then they each took a sip.
* * *
The conversation remained light and playful, and in time Louise caught Mimi smiling at the banter. Her own sides hurt from laughing so much, and for the first time, she realized she would miss parts of court life. A sigh escaped her lips.
“Do not tell me you suffer from melancholia with all this gaiety, Mademoiselle.” Antoine eyed her closely.
“No, Monsieur. It is not that, exactly.” But then it was. “Time is drawing to a close on my visit. I freely admit I will miss all of this.”
Antoine covered her hand with his own and nodded to Albert.
Albert stood. “Mademoiselle Roché, would you care to take a walk with me?” He held out his hand.
Mimi looked at her.
Louise shrugged.
A smile played at Mimi's lips. “I would be most happy to walk with you, Monsieur de Grillet.” She stood to join him. He took Mimi’s arm and escorted her away from the table.
Antoine leaned in close. “I saved something back for you.” His whisper tickled her ear and set off familiar tingles up her spine. “Remember when I told you I had two weaknesses?”
“Oui.” Louise had not been able to learn his secret, try as she might. What with the situation concerning Matthew and her accident, she had let the search for answers slip from her mind. “Though I have tried valiantly, my love, I have yet to learn your second weakness. Perhaps it is not such an Achilles' heel.”
“I am not so sure. However, I have decided I will confess, as I trust you not to divulge it to anyone.” He brushed a kiss against her lips. “Close your eyes and open your mouth.”
Louise closed them but opened one eye for a quick peek.
“Close them or I will not share, and you will be sorry.”
Sighing, Louise closed both eyes and folded her hands in her lap. Her lips parted, waiting.
Antoine touched a confection to her tongue. She bit into it and savored the sweet concoction. Part was familiar but part, the best part, was new and different and wonderful. “I can taste the strawberry, but what else is this?”
“Do you like it?”
“But of course. Tell me what it is.”
“Can you not guess?”
She opened her eyes. “Oh, Antoine, do not tease me. I do not think I have ever tasted anything quite like it. I can understand why this is a weakness. Now tell me. What is it?”
Antoine held what was left of the confection in front of her. “The strawberry has been dipped into chocolate. It is a favorite of the queen, and we lower subjects have a hard time getting our hands on it. I bribed the chef de partie and told him it was a very important occasion. We each get two—you have had one of yours now, I am afraid.”
“You had four and did not save one for Mimi or Albert?”
“Let Albert get his own.” He bit into another one. “I said this was for a special occasion. I do not share my weaknesses with just anyone.”
Louise giggled. She could not help it. With everything going on, her nerves had taken on a mind of their own. “What makes this such a special occasion?”
“I was wondering if you would like some company on your way home to Alsais?”
“I would love for you to come, but will you get into trouble for leaving your post?” She had caused him enough trouble to last a lifetime and still could not understand how he forgave her.
“I spoke with His Majesty after we returned this morning and explained my reasons. He has allowed me a short leave.”
“What reasons did you give him?” Louise’s chest grew tight.
Antoine leaned his forehead against hers and twirled one of her ringlets around his finger. “That I would like to go along so that I might speak with your father about something.”
Her heart wanted to pound through her chest. “Anything that might be of interest to me?”
“Perhaps. I thought, if you do not mind, that I should ask your father—” he knelt in front of her and picked up her hand— “for your hand in marriage. You do not have an objection to that, do you?”
Louise could not breathe. She knew she was crying as she threw her arms around his neck. “I will, I mean no, I do not have any objections and, oui, I will marry you! Oh!”
Antoine stood, drawing her to her feet. “I think I now have three weaknesses, and the newest is the greatest.”
Louise melted into his embrace, burrowing her head into his chest. “What is that?”
He tucked a tendril behind her ear. “It is not a what, my love, but a who.”
His knuckle rested under her chin, bringing her
gaze up to meet his. She could ecstatically drown in the blue ocean of his eyes.
“My third and greatest weakness is a person. That would be you, my love,” he whispered, right before he kissed her.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The rhythmic clumpity-clump of the horses’ hooves became a monotonous chorus in Louise’s head. Day after day the carriage traveled on, closer and closer to Alsais.
Her home.
Her father.
Papa would love Antoine. He must. He would bless the match and… What if he does not?
The wheels took up the chant. What if he does not? What if he does not?
Louise put her hands to her ears.
“Are you feeling all right, Mademoiselle?” Josephine LeSuere’s face mirrored concern.
Louise hoped her smile allied the woman’s concern. The suggestion to employ Josephine had come from Mimi, but it was brilliant. Louise needed her, and Josephine had nothing left in Versailles. When asked, she had said, “I will bring the good memories with me, but I will leave the misery of this past year to be buried with the dead.” Already Louise could tell the decision was good for both of them.
“Dear heart, does your head trouble you?” Now Tante Marie was awake.
“No, I am fit. I only rubbed at my ears.” Louise glanced out the coach window. She could see Antoine, or part of him, as he rode Vent past her view. How could her father not love him? Was there ever a more wonderful man than Antoine? Well, perhaps her dear papa, but then she could not marry him. Louise smiled to herself. Oui, her father would love Antoine, the son he never had.
“Oh.” The carriage jolted over bumps in the road. Louise bounced against the other two women. “Is anyone hurt?” She pushed back up into the seat.
“I am unharmed, dear heart. And you, Madame LeSuere?” Tante Marie reseated herself and brushed off her skirts.
Josephine nodded, though her eyes darted to the window.
The Crockett Chronicles- The Complete Collection Page 19