Not Forgotten

by Elizabeth Johns

  “Of course,” Philip agreed. “I am certain she will greatly enjoy toying with us.”

  “Any sign of how to enter the tunnels leading below?”

  “When I came for Tobin, I entered through the caves by boat, and I did not venture beyond the stables or kitchens when I was making deliveries here.”

  “These are Napoleon’s rooms when he visits,” the housekeeper said to the Duchess, showing her into a richly decorated apartment.

  “She speaks as though he is coming back,” Waverley remarked.

  “Perhaps we should just ask her,” Philip quipped.

  “Monsieur Elliot, Madame has selected a special room for you. She said you will find what you seek in here.” The housekeeper seemed perplexed, but shrugged and opened a door for him.

  Waverley gave him a look as he went into his own apartments, indicating they would speak later.

  Whatever could she mean? There were peep-holes? There was a door to Lady Amelia’s room? Surely not! There were diaries of her plans with the Emperor? He almost laughed aloud at his wild suppositions. At first glance, it was a normal series of chambers—a dressing room, a sitting room, a bedroom. He crept around the room, removing each painting and checking each stone and panel in the wall. Thankfully, he found no holes, but neither had he found a door or secret compartment. He stared around the room, seeking inspiration and his gaze dropped to the red Turkish rug. The floor!

  Sure enough, when he rolled back the carpet, there was a trap-door. It opened easily on its hinges, and a narrow set of steps led downwards inside the chimney breast.

  “The cat strikes first, it seems, but why? Is she baiting me?” He paced around the room, debating what to do. “I am here as her guest, so she cannot throw me in the dungeon―not if she wants to please her niece.” He turned another circle, weighing his options. “Either she has nothing to hide, or she does not care, although she has had time to remove any evidence. No. I refuse to be prey... and yet is it not a trap I am considering?” Indeed, he could not resist looking and began to creep down the stone steps one by one.

  The stairs wound around and around for several storeys. At length, he surmised that he was nearing the tunnels and the sea, for the smell of salt and damp grew stronger, and the air grew chill. He tried several doors as he passed them, but none opened until he reached the bottom. It creaked loudly as he opened it, and he suspected it led to the tunnel where he had been before, to negotiate Tobin’s release. Instead, there was a large study with a fire roaring in a blackened iron grate, and Madame was sitting behind a heavy desk.

  “You have come at last,” she said, standing and walking around to the front and then leaning against the desk.

  “How could I refuse such an invitation?”

  “I have no secrets to hide from you. You know I am French, and a supporter of the Emperor. My question is, are you hiding something from me, or my niece? You see, being the matriarch of her family now, it is my responsibility to protect her. I am partial to military men myself, but they do not usually make good husbands.”

  “I have resigned my commission.”

  “Yet you are here.”

  “What can I say? You dangled the forbidden fruit in front of me. This fortress is fascinating and I have been here before.”

  “I no longer harbour prisoners or spies here, Captain Elliot, if that is what you suspect. There was a time I did what was needful for my country.”

  “And I for mine.”

  She inclined her head. “So we need not be enemies. We both care for my niece, so we may find some mutual interests in her.”

  Philip knew she was not telling the truth. Had he not heard her plotting with his own ears, however, he might have been convinced.

  “We both want what is best for her.”

  “Lady Amelia will come to no harm at my hands.

  “See that she does not.”

  The next morning, after they had broken their fast, Madame invited the ladies to join them in her boudoir. When Amelia and Meg arrived, she was sitting on a pale, pink sofa doing some needlework. For a moment, Amelia thought her aunt was her mother and it took her a moment to recover and compose herself.

  “Bonjour, mes nieces. I am glad you could join me. This is how I spend most of my mornings.”

  “I have never had the patience for needlework,” Amelia admitted. “Meg, however, is a dab hand at it.”

  “Amelia is excellent at painting when her nose is not in a book,” Meg added with a sly look at her sister.

  “I shall have my maid procure some painting supplies for you. There are many beautiful views to be captured here,” her aunt said. “Please enjoy some sewing if you like.” She indicated a basket on the floor near her chair.

  “I would like that, thank you.”

  Meg picked up some sewing from their aunt’s basket and began a pattern. Amelia sat on the window seat overlooking the ocean and was content to watch the waves crash against the rocks below.

  “You are not looking well, ma chérie. Can I call for something?” their aunt asked Meg.

  “It happens every morning,” Meg admitted. “If you will excuse me, my maid will aid me.”

  “But of course. It will pass in a few weeks, I think.”

  Meg hurried from the room, and Amelia exchanged sympathetic glances with her aunt.

  “I wonder that the Duke let her travel in her condition,” her aunt said with a shake of her head.

  “She would not be kept behind. The truth is, I needed to leave England for a while.”

  “Troubles with men?” Her aunt glanced up from her stitching.

  “Yes,” Amelia said meekly. “I could not bring myself to accept any of my suitors, and one of them tried to force my hand.”

  “I am glad you did not settle for something you could not be happy with.” She paused for a moment before asking astutely, “Was it because of Captain Elliot?” Her gaze was far too perceptive.

  Amelia blushed despite herself. There was no harm in admitting the truth, she thought, since she and Philip were pretending to be enamoured of one another.

  “Forgive me, my dear. I have no right to pry. Even though you have only just met me, I feel a connection to you through your mother. Margaret reminds me of her a good deal, but you remind me of myself.”

  “Do not apologize. I too, feel a connection, and I miss her so very much.”

  “One of the hardest things ever to happen to me was to be separated from her. We kept in touch a little by letter and through our mother, but it was not the same once your mama married and left for England.” She paused again. “I will always feel responsible for your parents’ death. Each and every day it weighs heavily upon me.”

  “You did not order Hawthorne to kill them. That was his derangement, not yours.”

  “True,” she said softly and stared out of the window past Amelia into the distance for a while. Clearly, she was lost in her thoughts. Amelia gave her the courtesy of privacy and waited.

  “I am grateful you have come to me,” her aunt said at last.

  Amelia turned to look at her, and smiling, reached out her hand towards the other woman. “I am grateful too.”

  “I may not be your mother, but if you need advice, please ask. Your beauty is both a blessing and a curse, I know. Yet you have one thing I did not—wealth. It is difficult to know whether people desire you for yourself. I used to think I needed to be who they expected, instead of what made me happy.”

  Amelia felt a lump of emotion rise in her throat. That was exactly how she felt.

  “Your mother and sister possess a quiet sort of beauty that attracts the right type of man. You and I are more complicated creatures. We long for adventure, but there are times when we need to be alone and have quiet.”

  “Yes, I feel guilty and torn at times,” Amelia agreed.

  “I only say this because I made some very poor choices at your age. Your father was a wonderful man, but I would have been bored to insanity living the life your mother did
.”

  On reflection, Amelia thought perhaps she would have been ennui as well, and that was why she could not marry any of the men who had offered for her.

  “I see you understand me,” her aunt said with a sympathetic smile. “However, I did not find the man who could offer me both worlds, and never found one to make my heart sing.”

  Amelia’s heart sped up. Those were the exact words she had used before to describe Captain Elliot. It was uncanny.

  “Therefore you chose to live for a cause? Forgive me if I speak out of turn; I heard certain rumours before I left England, you see,” Amelia confessed.

  “You may ask me anything you wish. I would rather tell you myself. I did not consciously choose to live for a cause when I was young. I was still searching for true love, I think. My choices soon became limited and I did the best I could at the time. Sadly, it meant separation from your mother and her family.”

  “What do you think I should do? Go back to England and settle for one of the respectable gentleman who offered for me?”

  “Not when I see the way you look at Captain Elliot. Even though we may be on different political sides, I do think he is an honourable man. Whether he is the man for you remains to be seen, but when your heart longs for one person, it would be unfair to commit yourself to another.”

  “It is hard for the head to overrule the heart. I have been trying.”

  “It is difficult to see through emotions at your age, and much of marriage is simply luck. I only hope you find happiness.”

  “You have done well for yourself despite your mistakes,” Amelia said daringly, glancing around the room with the wall of glass looking out over the ocean.

  “I suppose I have in terms of the manner in which I live. It depends on what makes you happy. I have done the best I could with the decisions I made. It does not mean I would do the same again.”

  A knock on the door interrupted their tête-à-tête, and Amelia recognized the man who entered as the one from the party in Paris and from her walk with Philip.

  Lannes came forward and whispered something to her aunt. Amelia strained to overhear without appearing obvious, but could only make out a few snippets of the hasty conversation.

  “…is here.”

  “What?” she asked angrily.

  “He insists on speaking with you.”

  “I told them I did not wish to be disturbed while my family is here.”

  “He said it is of the utmost urgency. I bade him wait in your office below.”

  Her aunt stood up. “Forgive me, Amelia. There is some business I cannot neglect. Perhaps you may find your beau and walk along the beach. It promises to be a beautiful day.” She smiled at her and exited the room with her henchman.

  Amelia knew she needed to find Philip and report what she had just heard. It could be innocent and nothing more than estate business, but it could be important. She did not wish to tattle on her aunt, who seemed to genuinely care about her and Meg, but she needed to know for more than just her country. She needed to know for herself.

  Chapter 10

  Philip found Waverley in the billiards room practising some shots.

  “Mind if I join you?” he asked.

  “Please do. Meg is not feeling well, so I thought I would let her rest.”

  “It is a tough business, growing a child. I am thankful I do not have to do it.”

  “I think I would rather have the duty myself than watch my wife do it,” Waverley said frankly. “Have you any news? The room is clear. I checked it when I arrived. I have been waiting to see what the housekeeper meant by her remarks yesterday.”

  “There was a secret passageway in my floor that led to the tunnels below. To Madame’s office, in fact, where she was waiting to speak with me,” Philip said as he hit one of the balls, knocking it into a pocket.

  “She was there waiting? Why would she do such a thing?” Waverley asked.

  “To prove she is not afraid of us. She said as much.”

  Waverley began to say more and Philip held a finger over his mouth. Even though Waverley had checked the room, it did not mean they should speak freely about everything. He nodded to indicate his understanding. It was baffling.

  “She does seem genuine in her affection for the Duchess and Lady Amelia, which I applaud. She was adamant she is no longer holding prisoners or participating in government activities here.”

  Waverley was silent as he lined up his shot and hit his cue ball into its target. “Do you have any suggestions? Or do we amuse ourselves with frivolous games and over-indulge in good food and wine?”

  “Growing complacent is what she wishes us to do. Perhaps we will find nothing here, but I will not relax my quest.” He spoke just above a whisper.

  Waverley hit one of his balls into the pocket.

  “Nice shot.” Philip applauded as there was a knock on the door. He was standing nearby, so he opened it to find Lady Amelia waiting patiently.

  “Good afternoon, my lady.” He clicked his heels together in greeting.

  “Good afternoon, Captain Elliot,” she replied. “Waverley,” she greeted the Duke as she came into the room. She was dressed for the outdoors in an emerald green velvet pelisse and a matching gathered bonnet.

  “Do you think I might impose on you to accompany me on a walk down to the beach?” She looked at him meaningfully, as if urging him on.

  “A walk sounds delightful. Allow me a moment to fetch my hat.”

  “Would you care for company, or is this a romantic tryst?” Waverley teased.

  “You may join us if you wish, but I saw my sister emerge from her chamber a few minutes ago and she was looking as well as I have seen her since we left England.”

  “Say no more,” Waverley said, moving towards the door. “Enjoy your walk.”

  “I will wait for you in the courtyard,” she said to Philip and he made haste to get his hat. Amelia admired the umbrella-shaped pine trees surrounding the courtyard as she waited, since a layer of fog had rolled in and was covering the view to the ocean.

  They were soon on their way down the stone staircase which led down the cliff from the courtyard to the water. Neither said a word until they had reached a viewing gallery where the steps forked.

  “Has something happened?” he asked.

  “I do not know, but you said to report everything.”

  “I did.” He nodded encouragingly.

  “I was having a pleasant morning conversing with my aunt, and it felt very normal.”

  “And then?”

  “And then her man, the same one from her party, who led her away, came in and whispered to her. She seemed quite irritated to have been disturbed, but she left with him.”

  “Could you hear anything they said?” He tried not to grow excited. It was early yet.

  “Very little, I am afraid. Merely that someone was here to see her and it was urgent.”

  “We must make haste,” he said, taking her hand and pulling her forward.

  “Where are we going? We cannot walk in on their meeting!” she insisted, trying to hold her ground.

  “We can try to listen. If we are caught, we are out on an afternoon stroll. I need to know who is here.”

  She said nothing, but stopped resisting. He hoped he could negotiate to the cave opening then on to where La Glacier’s office was from his memory of the day before. He followed the southward path down to the shore, holding Amelia’s hand firmly. To his annoyance, it ended and there were only boulders leading towards the caves and tunnels he knew to be there.

  Unfortunately, it did not seem there was a way to get there without crossing some water. The tide was in, and it was too high for them to negotiate safely and without swimming. He cursed under his breath.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “See that cave over there? That is where we need to be.”

  “Oh, dear.” She looked across the white chalk cliff with sharp horizontal stripes to where a cave’s entrance was protected by boulders
with the tide in.

  “My sentiments also, if said in a polite way,” he retorted.

  “Are you going to swim over there?”

  “The thought was crossing my mind, though I do not relish the ice bath. However, I do not wish to leave you here with the tide high.”

  “I am quite capable of waiting here alone.” She huffed with indignation. “I will return to higher ground if the water comes close.”

  “Very well, then; turn around.”

  She did as directed and he loosened his neckcloth; then they heard voices.

  “Quiet,” he commanded in a whisper, at the same time pulling her against the rocks of the cliff face.

  Voices echoed towards them; could they really be so fortunate?

  “Get in the boat, and do not return until you receive word from me. You cannot risk being seen here again.” Resounded off the cave walls through the fog, La Glacier’s voice was harsh.

  Amelia sucked in her breath.

  “Forgive me, Madame, I thought you would wish to know.”

  “The death is unfortunate, but I could have been informed by post.”

  “Very well; everything is still on schedule?”

  “Yes, the family visit is temporary, but very important to me. We will resume as soon as they leave. Bonjour, Pierre.”

  The meeting must have ended, for though he strained to do so, he heard nothing more.

  “She lied to me,” he said. “I knew she was lying, of course, but she said she was no longer carrying out government activities from the fortress.”

  “Maybe she is doing something else.” Lady Amelia tried to defend her aunt.

  “You are remarkably naïve. I overheard her organizing the rebel army at her underground meeting in Paris.”

  “You think she is starting another uprising?”

  “I think she is keeping the army prepared for her emperor’s return.”

  Amelia’s face fell. “If so, there would be further war between our nations.”

  “Do not lose heart, my dear.” He patted her cheek like he would a small child. She glared at him, which was his intention. When she was irritated she forgot to be sad.