The French Duchess

by Rue Allyn

  “Why not arrest Malveux and then tell the truth? That I am not a spy.”

  Bonaparte snorted. “Rats are like the Greek monster, the hydra. Cut off the head and two grow in its place. To kill a conspiracy, one must eliminate all the rats. The moment I arrest Malveux and reveal that I know the truth of the plot, all the other vermin will slink away to conspire again.”

  “I can see how waiting to arrest Malveux will give you time and opportunity to catch all those involved in the plot against you. However, I fail to see how staging my escape will aid in that effort.”

  “Once your escape becomes general knowledge, Malveux will pursue. I wish to know who joins the chase with him. He is too clever to take anyone he does not believe he can control. Those who follow with him will be some, possibly all, who are loyal to him. However, several things must be managed before that part of the plan can be put in place.”

  “Such as?”

  “I must be unavailable to direct the pursuit or order it done. If I am believed to be dead or desperately ill, Malveux will be distracted, perhaps believing that your wife finally did as he ordered her to do.”

  “In which case, Malveux will no longer have any interest in me or my wife.”

  “Au contraire. His first act will be to rid himself of both of you, thereby ensuring that his tools could not turn on him. The announcement of your escape must be carefully timed with my very inconvenient affliction. I am inclined to let the plot play out until the moment when Madame Campion is about to murder me, and I can pretend she all but succeeded. As Cochinat no doubt planned, you can escape in the confusion surrounding the attempted assassination. I will provide a uniform of the old guard for you. I will inform your wife that you await her at the stables and she should join you there.”

  “That is good as far as it goes. How will you prevent the death of Marielle’s aunt?”

  “Malveux has used carrier pigeons before. My pigeon keeper informs me that all my pigeons are ill.”

  “So Malveux will be unable to send messages to any of his supporters in Le Havre and the surrounding area. Excellent. Twelve hours will be enough of a lead to get us ahead of any pursuit and possibly avoid agents lying in wait for us.”

  Napoleon slapped his forehead then smiled. “Ah me, I am not normally so forgetful. Being deposed is a dreadful business and very distracting. Do not ever let it happen to yourself.”

  Richard grinned. “I assure you, your imperial highness, I will not place myself in such a position. What is it you have forgotten?”

  “I nearly failed to arrange mounts for you. How expert a rider is your wife?”

  “Superior.” Certainly, good enough to spend the day riding by his side and sharing the sweet passion of her kisses. She’d harbored no artifice that day. For a few moments she’d trusted him completely, until reality had forced him to release her and all that stood between them came rushing back, including her cousin. “We will need three mounts.”

  Napoleon raised a brow.

  “Your third undersecretary is my wife’s cousin,” Richard explained. “He was Malveux’s original choice as assassin. His mother was worried about him when she learned he’d gone to France. Marielle left England with the intent of persuading René to come home. I met Marielle on board the ship and was overwhelmed by my feelings for her.” What those feelings were exactly, he would have to examine another time.

  “Such is the nature of mothers. Your wife is a brave woman to set out on such a task alone.”

  “She has an excess of courage.”

  “Oui, approaching me with her problem could not have been easy.”

  “Easy or not, it was extremely rash.”

  “We will agree to disagree. I saw her reasoning as masterful. Very much like what I might do if cornered by a larger force.”

  Arguing further would serve no purpose. “May I see my wife and assure her that all will be well? We would not want her to spoil so intricate a plan with another masterfully brave action.”

  “Certainement, we would not. But I think it better if you do not have visitors. The more people who come to the chapel attics who normally have no business here, the more suspicions will be raised. I will inform your wife myself. It will give me a chance to flirt with a beautiful woman, even if only in pretense.” Richard resisted the impulse to let Bonaparte know that even flirtation with Marielle was beyond the line.

  “Then you will not come to visit again.”

  “Sadly, no. I would have liked a rematch to prove that I am your equal in chess, if not your superior.” Napoleon stood and extended his hand.

  Richard rose, too, accepting the offered handshake. “When you are settled in Elba, perhaps Marielle and I will visit.”

  “I would like that very much. Bonsoir, et bon voyage. Captain.”

  Richard stood for a long while staring at the locked door. A future with Marielle was as unlikely as Napoleon’s escape from a well-guarded banishment on Elba, no matter how comfortable. At least Richard hoped the allies understood how to guard the Corsican. As for Marielle, when the powers that be learned of her part in preventing a new outbreak of war they would manage a way to restore her reputation. She would no longer have to worry about her family name or keeping her relatives safe. Her life would be bright. She would soon be a happily married woman, raising another generation of the heirs of Stonegreave. And he . . . well, he’d always wanted to travel. Perhaps he would sell out and journey to the Americas or India. The prospect was a pleasant but lonely one.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Marielle approached her rooms the following night, her mind awhirl with all that Napoleon had told her under the cover of a pretended flirtation. Her ruined reputation had helped make that believable. Napoleon had cemented the impression when he sent all his servants, courtiers, and guests to enjoy themselves in the gardens while he lingered with Captain Campion’s wife to assure her that her husband’s perfidy in no way reflected on her.

  A scant two hours remained before Napoleon’s pretended demise. She wiped sweat from her palms. Thank heaven Richard was safe and would meet her with fast horses behind the stable at midnight—that was, as long as his ruse as accused rapist and spy held. Too many people resided at Fontainebleau for any secret to be secure. What if the ale-loving vicar or one of the grooms said something careless? Word would get back to Malveux within moments, and all would be lost.

  René added to the worry. She’d gone in search of him once she’d left Napoleon, but her cousin was nowhere to be found.

  She unlocked the door to her rooms and froze at the sound of flint striking steel. The candle flame grew to reveal Malveux ensconced on the settee.

  “Good evening, your grace.”

  She lingered in the shadow of the doorway, gathering her scattered wits. Where was her nerve? She could not allow a mere good evening from him to inspire fear. The time for Malveux to rule her actions was near an end. She could afford to show some backbone.

  “Your presence here is as unwelcome as always, Malveux.” She advanced into the room as she spoke. “Say what you must as quickly as possible then leave. I am weary and wish to rest before I must do your dirty work.”

  “Ordering a guest to leave is not very gracious of you. Have a seat while we chat.” He indicated the space beside him.

  “I prefer to stand.” Getting within his reach amounted to idiocy.

  He sighed and rose. “Then I must stand as well.”

  The outward courtesy did not fool her. He meant no kindness. She moved to put a table between them and position herself closer to the bedroom door. If need be, she could lock herself in and barricade the door until her screams brought help or Malveux tired of playing cat and mouse.

  But he did not pursue her; instead he walked to the sitting room door and gripped the handle. “Since you wish, I will be quick. I worry that you have some trick you intend to play in hope of avoiding your fate.”

  “You will have to wait and see what happens after midnight.”

&nb
sp; “Nonetheless, to increase your incentive to obey, your cousin resides in my chambers and will remain there until Napoleon is declared dead by a physician.”

  “You unprincipled cur.”

  “Calling names will avail you nothing.”

  “How can I be certain you have René?”

  “Have you seen him this evening?”

  She wished she could say yes.

  “Nor will you see him until you have fulfilled your end of our bargain.”

  She wouldn’t waste her breath telling Malveux that blackmail was a far cry from a bargain. “At dinner, Napoleon said he would be closeted with advisors and dealing with his affairs of state all of tomorrow and apologized to his guests for not being able to entertain them at the evening meal as a proper host. I will not be able to gain access to the emperor until the day after tomorrow at the earliest.”

  She had the satisfaction of seeing Malveux’s free hand fist.

  He formed a grin that was all teeth and no smile. “Then you must find the means to get his advisors and servants to leave him.”

  “I plan to leave with René the moment I give you what you want.”

  “I will ensure that you and your cousin shall not remain at Fontainebleau any longer than necessary. Come directly to my suite the moment Napoleon is dead. I will reunite you with your cousin.”

  Perhaps it was his expression or his tone, or perhaps it was simply her knowledge of him, but icy dread shook her. If Malveux had his way, she and René would not live to see the outside of Fontainebleau.

  After the door snapped shut, Mari collapsed onto the nearest chair. There was no way to inform Napoleon of this added problem before the false news began to spread of the emperor’s death. She would have to rescue René on her own. Lord, how she wished for Richard’s reassuring presence. Not that she needed him to tell her what to do, but over the past two days, she’d come to rely on his steady fortitude.

  She wanted to hear him say he knew her capable of any feat. He’d probably say she was reckless beyond belief. She wanted to feel his arms around her, his kiss on her lips as he encouraged her to be brave and act despite her fears. He’d probably shake her, tell her not to risk so much and frighten him. What she wanted did not matter. She must calm herself and think.

  She sat, then breathed deeply and stretched in an attempt to relax. But her thoughts were far from soothing. Her death and Rene’s at Malveux’s hand was simple logic, really. Why risk even the small chance that they might tell of his involvement in plotting Napoleon’s death and be believed? Better to remove them and any chance of suspicion. And since death was his threat to her for not killing Napoleon—and she would not—she must make certain that Malveux had no chance to carry out his intentions. Which meant she must time Rene’s rescue carefully to coincide with Richard’s release and their planned escape.

  The mantle clock chimed half past ten. Napoleon’s death would be rumored at half past eleven.

  If Malveux found her in his rooms before the rumors started, he’d know she had betrayed him. She and René would be dead within minutes. She had just one chance to get this right. Esme was her only recourse. Marielle did not like placing the maid in a perilous situation. But what choice did she have? She would ensure that Esme understood the risks, and if the maid declined to lend her aid, Mari would make do as best she could. She rang the bell for Esme.

  • • •

  “You are certain you wish to do this?” Mari asked twenty minutes later when they reached the hallway leading to Malveux’s apartments.”

  Esme nodded. “Oui, madame. This Malveux treats all the servants badly and accosts the maids when they are working. You may change your mind, and I will kill him with my knife.” She opened her dark cloak to reveal a wicked looking blade tucked into the belt of her dress.

  Mari gulped. “No, I do not wish to kill him.” Malveux may deserve death for all the harm he’d done her family and others, but she could not bring herself to plot his murder.

  “You are sure he’s inside and that René is here?” Mari whispered.

  “Oui, now wait here. I will bring your cousin to you.”

  Esme darted a look down the hallway then sped silently down the passage.

  Mari waited impatiently behind the curtain of an alcove, peeking out occasionally to scan the hallway and the stairs nearby for anyone who might witness the events taking place. Her enemy’s quarters were located halfway down the long corridor on the opposite side of Fontainebleau from Mari’s own apartment. She’d donned her riding habit and bundled one change of clothing for herself and Richard into a blanket now slung over her shoulder. The maid had carried a similar bundle with clothing taken from René’s quarters, along with some bread and cheese. Mari now carried that as well for it would be Esme who would convince Malveux to leave then slip within his room and release René.

  Esme rapped on the door. “Monsieur, you are needed immediately in the emperor’s apartments.”

  The door opened, and light spilled out to reveal Esme. Of Malveux, Mari could see only his shadow, but she could hear him.

  “What is this about? Napoleon would never send a message through a housemaid.”

  Esme bowed her head, curtsied, and kept her voice low. “My apologies, monsieur. It is not the emperor who sent me, but le Comte Bertrand. He sent to all of the emperor’s most trusted aides and warned that we should be discreet and quick. It is most urgent, he said.”

  “Very well.” The shadow shifted. “You know what to do with our guest if you do not hear from me within the hour.”

  “Oui,” barked an unknown voice.

  Oh no, we should have counted on a guard. Esme would need help. But not until Malveux left. Napoleon said he would keep his subordinates occupied with a death watch for as long as he could, but other than providing mounts at the stables, allowing the pigeons to remain incapacitated, and releasing Richard, that was all he could do. If he lay dying, supposedly, he could not prevent a search for his murderer or any pursuit when it was determined the assassin had escaped Fontainebleau.

  A door closed and footsteps sounded in the hallway beyond the curtain. Mari held her breath and leaned back against the wall. The footsteps passed the alcove and disappeared behind the door to the stairs.

  She peered carefully from her hiding place. Only Esme stood in the passage, just beyond the closed door to Malveux’s room.

  The maid motioned Mari forward.

  “I will knock and announce to the guard that I bring the wine his master asked for.”

  “We have no wine.”

  “It will not matter. I will offer him something else.” Esme loosened her bodice and pulled it lower nearly exposing her nipples.

  “What if he sends you away?”

  “He will not. He will want to drink the wine and entertain himself with me while the master is gone.”

  “Very well. Distract him and try to turn him away from the door. I will slip within and find something to hit him with. If we are lucky, I will render him unconscious.”

  “If not, you must hit him again faster and harder until he goes down. I will keep his hands busy one way or another until you succeed.”

  Mari nodded and quietly placed her carried items on the floor.

  Esme rapped on the door once more then put her hands behind her back as if she held something behind her. “Ouvrez la porte, s’il vous plaît. I have brought the wine your master requested.”

  Mari pressed herself against the wall on the far side of the door as it opened.

  “Wine, you say?”

  “Oui, monsieur, and perhaps something tender to nibble on.”

  Esme wiggled and batted her eyelashes.

  “Well, come in then. Who knows when Monsieur Malveux will return.”

  Esme sashayed into the room, letting the door close partway behind her.

  Mari heard much giggling and low voices but could not understand the words.

  She crept forward, easing the door wide before her.

&
nbsp; “Oh, monsieur, you are so very handsome.”

  His back to Mari and the fireplace, the man was totally engrossed in ogling Esme, whom he held by the shoulders.

  “I don’t need compliments. What I need is . . . ”

  Mari hit him across the back of the head with the fire iron then hit him again before he could do more than slide one large hand toward Esme’s barely covered breast.

  He slowly toppled forward.

  Esme danced to the side and let him collapse to the floor.

  Mari dashed to the bedroom door. A swift glance revealed that René was nowhere in sight.

  “Esme, he’s not here.”

  “Mmmmphh.” The sound came from the direction of the huge wardrobe opposite the bed.

  “Yes, he is.”

  Mari and Esme rushed to the wardrobe together, turning and pulling on the knobs.

  “It’s locked. We’ll have to break the door.”

  “Non, madame, you might hurt your cousin. Allow me.” The maid fell to her knees before the wardrobe.

  “How?”

  “Like this.” Esme took a pin from her hair, inserted it into the lock, moved the pin around a bit, and the lock released.

  The door opened almost before Esme could rise and step back. A bound and gagged René tumbled to the floor.

  Mari rushed to help Esme free him.

  “Water?” he asked.

  Esme found a pitcher with a bit of clean water and handed it to René.

  He drank straight from the ewer. “Thank you. Mari, I am so glad to see you, but how did you get in here?”

  “I will explain later. Can you stand? We must hurry. Richard awaits us behind the stables with horses. We have very little time to make a clean escape.”

  René nodded and stood.

  “Are you certain you do not wish to come with us, Esme?”

  “I wish I could, but for the sake of my family, I must remain here.”

  “You know how to reach me. If ever you need anything, send word to me at Stonegreave Priory.”

  “I will. Now go. I will bind the guard so he cannot raise an alarm if he wakes.”

  Mari hugged the younger woman. “Be safe. I would not like it if my friend came to harm.”