Lord Philip's Christmas

by Michele McGrath

  “You look like a mermaid,” Edward told her.

  “I would like to be. This is glorious.”

  “Where is the prim Lady Alice Sutherland now?”

  “Decently interred at Kirkmore. That is, if I ever was such a creature.”

  He chuckled. “So you enjoy venturing on the sea?”

  “I love it.”

  “Then when we go to Brighthelmstone in the summer, you won’t object if I hire a schooner and take trips along the coast?”

  “Not if you take me with you.”

  “I will, always provided you are a good girl.”

  “I’m always good.”

  “Prove it to me.”

  Sometime later, Alice and Edward disembarked at the port of Boulogne. A seasoned traveller ever since his service in the Peninsula War, Edward had sent a servant in advance to book rooms. Fortunately, the comfortable inn where they were expected proved large enough to accommodate the extra persons in the party and everything was arranged amicably. The innkeeper and his wife were delighted to find that the Countess was French and that both Alice and Miss Talbot spoke their language fluently,

  “Which not many English ladies are able to do, Madame.”

  Alice found their accent a little strange, since her mother came from the far eastern edge of France. Before long, however, her ear adjusted and she was able to converse on a variety of different subjects. Miss Talbot took longer, although she had been well taught and could bear her part in the conversations when necessary. Edward experienced more difficulty, having spent years in Spain; he was more comfortable in that language and occasionally used Spanish words.

  The ladies retired to their chambers to repair the ravages of their journey and the Countess decided to take a short nap before dinner. Alice and Edward walked around the town and found Boulogne to be an interesting place; a bustling fishing port with a myriad of different sights and smells. Some of which reminded Alice of her childhood, for her mother had kept a French cook for many years who sometimes cooked regional dishes from Dauphiné and the south. When they returned to the inn, they discovered that the Countess intended to dine in her room for she was not feeling quite the thing. The voyage and the sea air had exhausted her, so she sent a message to them making her excuses.

  Alice, Edward and Grace dined together in their private parlour. During the meal, Edward set himself to draw Grace out and Alice admired his skill. She said later that it seemed as if a statue had suddenly come to life. The prim Miss Talbot had a sense of humour and a fund of amusing stories about her time as a teacher. Soon the conversation became both general and entertaining. Alice felt as if she had found someone with whom she could engage and maybe even call a friend.

  The large feather beds they were given, following their exercise and the sea air, soon lulled them to sleep. They ate breakfast and left the next morning at an early hour, thanking their hosts and promising to return. The rest of the journey was not so pleasant. In winter, the roads were muddy and full of ruts. It took them nearly four days to reach Paris, by which time everyone had become heartily sick of travelling. When they alighted at a small hotel in the Faubourg Saint-Germain, Alice felt a little disappointed. Crossing Paris through a series of narrow winding streets, she had found the city to be not at all what she expected. It was not as well set out as London. Some new buildings and monuments were in the process of being constructed but it seemed, from a casual glance, that work on them had ceased. Edward commented,

  “No doubt the change of government is responsible. The King is unlikely to share the Emperor’s taste for triumphal arches.”

  The Hotel Neuilly did not compare with Mivart’s Hotel in London which Alice had visited when her sister, Matilda, had stayed there recently. Edward smiled at her reaction but calmed her fears,

  “Don’t worry, my dear. I’ve been here before and I assure you we will be made most comfortable. They always air the sheets and never serve inferior wine.”

  He was proved right and even the Countess found little cause for complaint. Alice emerged the next morning well rested and ready to start the search for her brother. It had been decided between Alice and Edward that they would go alone to visit her cousin, Victor. Alice had confessed to her husband that her mother did not know Philip now used the alias of Louis de Vezey. Neither of them thought it wise to inform her at this moment and provoke another scene. So, Edward said to the Countess,

  “You must have friends and relations living here, ma’am, even if you have not seen them for many years. Far more than Alice and I do. One of them may know where Philip is and save us a prolonged search. If we are to find Philip quickly, then we should spread our efforts and perhaps we can locate him sooner.” He was surprised and Alice relieved when the Countess agreed without an argument.

  Victor’s apartment proved to be in a little street in the Marais district. The area had once been smart, but now it was falling into decline as people migrated to newer districts. The building was cleaner than some and possessed a concierge who was both helpful and well informed. This man told them that Monsieur Debord was out and not expected back until this evening after he had finished work. Alice had come prepared for such an eventuality and gave him a note for her cousin. It simply asked Victor to call on them at the Hotel Neuilly at his convenience because his cousin, Alice, had arrived in Paris and was eager to meet him. The concierge promised to deliver the note as soon as possible but, in the event, Victor did not appear that day.

  The rest of the time was taken up with strolls around the Palais-Royal and lunch in one of the cafés, which the occupying Russian troops had christened ‘bistros’. They discovered that bistro in their language meant quickly. The service was indeed quick but it was also good and the food was delicious. Afterwards Alice found the location of her modiste and arranged to call on her the following day when she expected to have time to discuss all her needs. Back at the hotel, the Countess had returned and told them that she had experienced a frustrating time. She had not found any of her friends in the city.

  “Only those people I particularly wished to avoid seem to be still here,” she sighed.

  “Did you try the British Embassy, ma’am?” Edward asked. “They should be able to tell you the direction of most of the noble families in Paris. No doubt some of them have been obliged to move from where they lived before due to all the upheavals.”

  This recommendation met with a tepid response. “It is inconceivable to me that I can’t find my friends without resorting to help from a foreign ambassador.”

  “I merely offer it as a suggestion, ma’am, to save you time and effort. You will do as you think right, of course.”

  The Countess grudgingly agreed. She spent the rest of the meal bemoaning the fact that so many of the fine buildings she had known as a girl had been damaged or destroyed.

  “The Revolution and that Corsican upstart, Bonaparte, changed everything and not for the better.”

  “Surely some of your acquaintances will be at the court, Mama?” Alice suggested. “You may find the people you are seeking amongst the king’s retinue and he is certain to receive the Countess of Kirkmore courteously.”

  “A good suggestion for once, Alice. I shall certainly consider it.”

  The Countess retired early, pleading a slight headache. Once she had left, Alice pounced on Grace.

  “Where did you and Mama go all day?”

  “We took a carriage through the city and visited places where your mother remembered her friends living. It was her intention to leave cards and then to visit them tomorrow.”

  “Did that happen?”

  “There was only one house where the owner was the same as before, but he was visiting his country estates. We left a card with the butler who told us he does not expect his master to return for some weeks.”

  “Poor Mama.”

  “It’s difficult to go back to a place after a long time away. I found London greatly changed and my sisters almost grown up in my absence,” Edwar
d remarked.

  Alice laughed. “I remember you said ‘surely this is not little Lizzie and Kitty without her pigtails and torn dress’. Kitty in particular was most annoyed with you.”

  “She would be. What did you do for the rest of the day, Miss Talbot?”

  “We ate lunch and then continued our drive. I seem to have seen all the sights of Paris out of the window of a coach swaying over the cobbles.”

  “Not the best way to see them, I agree.”

  “I don’t have your mama’s constitution, I’m afraid. The motion made me quite queasy.”

  “Then we must try to persuade her to adopt a different solution tomorrow.”

  As it happened a different solution was not needed. Next morning the Countess’s headache was found to have worsened and she had no desire to leave her bedchamber. When Grace offered to stay with her, she sent her away saying that she wished to be alone and her maid was quite capable of looking after her immediate needs.

  “Would you like to come with us, Miss Talbot?” Alice suggested, rather reluctantly, as she put on her bonnet and pelisse.

  “Even though Lady Kirkmore has dismissed me, I think I should stay here in case she changes her mind. If she is better this afternoon, I shall go for a walk but thank you for asking me.”

  “Did Miss Talbot realise I did not want her to come?” Alice asked Edward as they left the hotel.

  “She may. There was a certain note in your voice which I could hear, but perhaps she did not. Companions, however, have to be perceptive, if only to retain their position.”

  “Poor thing. I would like us to be on our own when we meet Victor.”

  “Do you wish me to stay with you when you talk to him?” Edward asked.

  “If you please. You know all my secrets and I would prefer you to be here to help me. He’s a stranger, after all, although we are so nearly related.”

  Their first call was at Victor’s lodgings. The concierge apologised as soon as he saw them.

  “Monsieur Debord was away from home last night. I didn’t see him until early this morning. I gave him your note and he read it. Then he told me to take his bags up to his rooms and he walked off.”

  “Do you know where he went?”

  “He didn’t tell me, but it is likely that he had to go to his place of work, at the silk merchant Moreau’s in the Rue de Richelieu.”

  “Thank you. We will seek him there.”

  A hackney took them to the Rue de Richelieu, a narrow street running up from the Louvre. Monsieur Moreau’s premises were in a set of ground floor rooms at number 10. Unfortunately, Victor was not there, having gone to visit a customer. Edward extracted a promise from the silk merchant to send him to their hotel as soon as he returned from his errand.

  “We had better go back there and wait for him,” Alice said.

  “What about your modiste?” Edward asked.

  “I’ll visit her at another time. Finding Philip is far more important. I wonder what Cousin Victor will be like?”

  Alice thought afterwards that she need not have been concerned. Victor Debord was a slight, unassuming man with excellent manners, who was delighted to make the acquaintance of another of his cousins.

  “And a much prettier one, if I my say so with your permission,” he said to Edward who smiled. “What brings you to Paris?”

  “Two things. My wife wants to purchase new dresses and we hoped to speak to her brother Philip whom you know, of course.”

  “Mais oui, certainement the ladies must have new dresses often and where better than Paris to buy them? As for mon cher Philip, or I should say Louis de Vezey, as he is known here, I have not seen him for several months, ever since the funeral.”

  “Funeral? Whose funeral? Not his?” Alice gasped.

  “No, no. He was quite healthy, although very unhappy, the last time I saw him. It was his lady, Celia, who died. Did he not tell you?”

  “No, he has not written to me which made me anxious. How did she die?”

  “She was ill and I believe took a turn for the worst from which she did not recover. Did you know her well, Cousin?”

  Alice frowned. “When we were growing up, her family, the Blackwoods, had an estate near to ours, but I have seen her only once since she married.” Alice’s thoughts whirled back to that desperate drive from Kew to London. She had held the half-fainting Celia tightly in her arms to keep her from falling out of the carriage. “How was my brother at her funeral?”

  “He took her death very badly. I called several times but he would not answer his door to me. Others had better luck, two in particular, who have given me news of him from time to time. He had a young girl to care for Celia when she was alive and she still looks after him, cleaning and cooking his meals. He works as a fencing master at a Salle des Armes run by an Italian named Marco Pezzi. I believe Monsieur Pezzi has managed to coax him back into teaching again. I am no swordsman, so I have never gone there, but it is in the Rue Vivienne and is quite popular among our English visitors. If he is not at the Salle, Monsieur Pezzi should certainly know where to find him.”

  “I’ll go tomorrow,” Edward said, “and I might indulge in some swordplay while I am there.” He glanced at Alice and then continued, “I can’t claim to be a master of the art but very few will be able to defeat me, don’t fret.”

  “Of course not,” Alice replied with a shake of her head, “I only wish I could learn fencing myself.”

  “Would you like me to teach you when we return home?” He offered. “The Salle, I am sure, is no place for ladies, or I would be happy to escort you there.”

  “If you please.”

  Victor wrote down Philip’s direction for them and also Agathe’s.

  “He may not live in the same apartment,” Victor warned. “He also spoke of going to visit my father but I haven’t heard that he has arrived there. Agathe will know or Marco. I would be grateful if you would tell me what has happened to him and give him my regards.”

  Chapter Five

  The rest of the afternoon passed pleasantly, talking of family matters and what was happening in the capital. Victor proved to be an entertaining companion, as Philip had told Alice. Several times he provoked them to laughter. This was unwise, for they had forgotten that the Countess was nearby in her bedchamber and the sound carried. It was a shock when she suddenly appeared, looking rather white and leaning on Grace’s arm. Alice jumped to her feet,

  “Mama! How are you?”

  The lady’s lips thinned. “Well enough and who is this, pray?”

  “May I present Victor Debord. Victor is…”

  “I know who he is.”

  Alice shot an agonised glance at Victor who kissed the Countess’s hand, smiled and said,

  “I have always wanted to meet you Tante Julienne.”

  “How like my brother you are. A flatterer.” She nodded to him and sat down on the sofa. She waved towards Grace, making the introductions.

  “My nephew, Victor Debord, my companion, Miss Talbot.”

  Grace took her usual place, a little way removed from the company, as the Countess quizzed Victor about the changes in Paris. She also asked about her various friends and family members.

  “Why you must certainly make your bow to the king, Ma Tante. He is quick to take a slight if you don’t and is certain to receive you. A Frenchwoman who has spent so many years in England, as he was forced to do himself, will be doubly welcome.”

  “My late husband did not care for the man.”

  “A prince in exile acts very differently from a king who has come home and reclaimed his throne.”

  “We shall see.”

  Although they discussed the things that Victor had told them before the Countess had arrived, neither Alice nor Edward wanted to tell her about their own enquiries. They hoped to be able to give her firm news of Philip’s whereabouts rather than speculation. Therefore, they spoke encouragingly about the idea of the Countess seeking an audience with King Louis at his earliest convenience.


  “I expect both of you to accompany me,” the Countess ordered. “It is, after all, not at all the thing for people of our sort to ignore the ruler of a country we are visiting.” Alice bit her lip to repress a giggle. She had a vivid remembrance of her father’s strictures on the man but she said simply,

  “Edward is keen to visit one of the Salles des Armes that have become all the rage in Paris and I have an appointment with my dressmaker tomorrow. So, I pray you to hold us excused for now. We will come with you when you are actually to be presented, of course.” The Countess gave a disapproving sniff but did not argue further.

  The following morning, she went out with Grace to arrange for the presentation. The two left behind heaved a sigh of relief and hurriedly departed from the hotel before she could return. There was time for them to make their own inquiries as well as to visit the dressmaker and the Salle.

  “I want to come with you to Philip’s apartment, Alice,” Edward said, as they settled into the coach. “The concierge tells me that it is in a rather unsavoury part of the city. Although I realise you are itching to see where he lives, it might be more sensible to go later when his work is finished. If I do not track him down at the Salle, I will engage to drive you there this evening. Why not visit Mademoiselle Céleste, as you have told your mother you intend to do, while I find this Marco? With luck, if Philip is there, I may even be able to bring him back with me.”

  “Yes. That is a better plan than mine,” Alice agreed.

  Accordingly, she was soon entering Mademoiselle Céleste’s premises. The lady was small and dark. She wore an elegant outfit in a deep red silk which flowed around her as she walked, making it appear as if she was gliding.

  “Is this dress one of your own creations?” Alice asked her, admiringly, after they had greeted each other.

  “Indeed. How can I help you Madame?” the modiste asked.

  “Lady Whitehead recommended you to me. I believe she was here earlier in the year.”