by Lynda Hurst
“And may I ask the name of your fiancé? It seems he has the advantage of knowing who I am, but I have not had the pleasure of meeting him.”
“He is the Comte Loire, Valerian de Baptiste, from Mont-Tremblant,” she said, a little aggrieved at herself for not mentioning that fact beforehand.
“Ah, we haven’t met, but I know of him,” St. Germain said finally. “I believe our paths have yet to cross as my work as an ambassador and diplomat haven’t much in common with a military man such as your fiancé. Very well, I am amenable to meeting with him, but only because it was at the insistence of one so beautiful.”
Not one to usually blush at such compliments, Mary was appalled to find herself growing hot underneath his intense stare and had to avert her eyes. “On behalf of my fiancé, I am very grateful that you are agreeable to the meeting,” she said while trying hard to will away the heat from her cheeks.
“If I may be so bold, may I accompany you on your way to meet your fiancé? My residence is not yet ready to receive visitors since I’ve only just returned to the city,” he said apologetically.
Eyeing her companions behind the ambassador, Mary nodded and said, “That would serve the comte’s purpose even better than he would have hoped. If you wouldn’t mind walking the rest of the way with me to our hotel, we can be off.”
By then, Raphael presented Mary with her wrapped purchases, the valerian root, separate from the other items, for which Mary produced payment for all from her reticule in the form of several gold francs. With a sunny smile, Mary handed over the lone item on the counter to St. Germain and said, “As promised, your valerian root.”
Bowing his head to her, he replied, “Thank you. I am looking forward to the relief this will bring for my sanity’s sake.” He pocketed the proffered item, then crooking his arm for Mary to grasp, he asked, “Shall we? I find I am also looking forward to meeting the man who has captured your heart and hand in marriage.”
Her hand, yes, but her heart? That subject was still out for debate, but she blushed again at the thought of what it might be like to actually have captured the heart of her own fiancé. Never before had she truly engaged her heart when it came to men, but it thoroughly warmed her inside to think that a man like Valerian could possibly care for her more than just an obligation to a promise made between their respective fathers.
Levelheaded as she was, it also surprised her to realize that she was genuinely receptive to having a husband who felt more for her than a mild affection. But that same judiciousness she prided herself in told her in no uncertain terms that their situation would be no different from other couples whose marriage had been pre-arranged. Love was a luxury in such cases, and it simply didn’t occur to her that hers would be blessed with that elusive sentiment.
Having witnessed firsthand her own parents’ love-filled marriage, Mary sadly felt that her chance to find a love such as theirs had been swiftly stolen in the moment she discovered her betrothal to Valerian. She had finally relented to the marriage after some convincing on Valerian’s part, and she could clearly recall that Valerian initially was opposed to the marriage himself. What had changed? It boggled her mind to think of what reasons Valerian could have to reverse his stance on the institution.
Threading her hand through his arm, Mary replied with a beaming smile, “Let us be quickly on our way. We may be able to catch his arrival back to the hotel once he’s discovered you are not where he hoped you to be.”
16
Walking back to the hotel, Valerian grumbled under his breath, having wasted time waiting for a man who didn’t know to stay put when he was most needed. Impatient and anxious to be on his way home to Mont-Tremblant, he wanted to have this particular task quickly resolved for both Bastien’s sake and for his. Knowing his cousin as well as he did, he imagined Bastien chomping at the bit to at least hear a whisper of how much support could be rallied from France.
With the current trend of decreasing popularity of King Charles of France, tenth of his name, Valerian knew it would be hard to find support from those who tended to favor a republic of the people rather than support a royal. However, it was Bastien’s hope that the ambassador would have a better feel for who amongst the French court and nobility would be willing to back the current king of Mont-Tremblant.
Bastien himself was in the middle of strengthening ties with high-ranking members of the French court in regard to trade and export, but now it was of utmost importance to gain the ear of the French king who commanded a great military force. If enough friends of Mont-Tremblant were to whisper in King Charles’ ear, Bastien would have the much-needed military backing to fend off any moves the Laurents could make against him.
But without the Ark, the law would stand firm against Bastien, and a Laurent on the throne could potentially thrust the Republic of Mont-Tremblant back underneath a dictatorship. The evidence of such a fate lay solely with the documented cases of desperate Laurents over the decades, who operated through underhanded means to attempt to gain back their former glory, despite the reign of peace and prosperity under Bastien’s care. Although those who could personally recount the days of Laurent rule were long dead, the people of Mont-Tremblant carried long memories since that time and also preferred a Montchagny on the throne over a Laurent.
While feeling the urgency of his mission pressing upon him, Valerian was grateful to have the Ark, but he desperately needed to ensure that the French army would be aiding Bastien if it was needed. War had divided the country once before when the Laurents were last in power, and war may again be necessary to defend it against them.
His other reason for feeling the need to expedite the necessary results, while not as crucial to the fate of Mont-Tremblant, was, in his mind, just as important for his future. Sheepishly admitting that his former attitude towards having a bride imposed upon him had caused him to forcibly resist the idea, he could not explain the reason for his chest tightening at the thought of Mary herself. Neither could he explain the sudden change in his sentiment towards the institution of marriage, but he realized that the shift had much more to do with who he was marrying.
Having observed the many facets and planes of Mary through the short time they have been acquainted, Valerian could not name any other woman who made as vast an impression on him as she did. From the start, he knew he was attracted to her, but he was convinced that the knowledge that she belonged to him as dictated by their father’s betrothal contract had the most profound effect on his stance towards marriage. Knowing that a woman as bold and fiery as Mary was his settled comfortably within him, while at the same time, he craved her in a way he had never felt before.
Never before having felt compelled to keep a woman around longer than necessary, he found he liked the thought of having Mary as a lifelong companion, someone who would not mince words when he did something disagreeable. And someone who challenged him at every turn while looking prettier with her eyes blazing in growing ire. Never before had he encountered such passion, which she took great pains to hide beneath a genteel exterior. But every now and then he caught a glimpse of it, and he wanted nothing more than to be engulfed within it when Mary finally relinquished control to it.
Hence, the urge to marry the woman as quickly as possible. Without the benefit of marriage bonding her legally to him, he could not in good conscience seduce her for his own selfish desires. As his soon-to-be wife, he was determined to treat her gently and considerately as possible, given his indulgent past. Since she was aware of his rakish past, he was even more driven to show her that he was truly reformed while eager to teach her all of the ways a man could devote himself to his wife.
He had promised her brother and her mother that he would see her safe and cared for, only now, he had extended the time limit of his promise to the rest of their natural lives together. In his mind’s eye, he pictured the two of them reciting such vows to each other, and for the first time, he relished such a thought.
With such thoughts running unchecked, V
alerian walked straight past the hotel entrance and looked up belatedly when he realized he had not yet reached his destination. Looking about with more awareness, he backtracked towards the hotel only to catch sight of the very woman who absorbed most of his thoughts these days.
What he did not expect was to see her on the arm of a strange man, laughing up at him, her face beaming in gentle mirth. His gaze narrowed further to observe her hand daintily resting on the other man’s arm. The man kept Mary pressed close into his side as the street was narrow and filled with pedestrians, and Valerian glowered as the man smiled winsomely down at her. Jealousy, the likes of which he had never before known or possessed had overcome him and had him stomping closer to confront the two of them.
Mary’s eyes widened at the stormy expression on Valerian’s face as he closed in on her. Her vision tunneled so that he was her only focus; everything else fell away, and she had almost forgotten what she was about to surprise him with. Watching him now, he looked impossibly bigger in his obviously incensed state, his shoulders hulking almost near his ears as he angrily strode up to her with clenched fists. She could have sworn he bared his teeth in a feral smile as he came to a standstill before her.
Ignoring the stranger altogether, Valerian rudely blasted, “Did I leave you alone only for you to meet and bring home a stranger?” St. Germain gasped, but remained silent as Valerian continued his tirade.
“And you two! I charged the both of you to watch over her,” he accused Simon and Brielle who were hovering over Mary’s shoulder.
Mary reddened at his accusations and countered, “You great boor! You are being unforgivably rude, and we are causing a scene out here in public.”
The tic in Valerian’s jaw grew even more pronounced as he hissed, “I haven’t a care for what the public may think. You are my fiancée and must have a care around other men who find you as delectable as I do!”
If Mary’s cheeks weren’t already mottled in frustration, she would have reddened even further. “Stop acting like a jealous ass and at least allow me the courtesy of explaining,” she spat, almost on the verge of shouting.
St. Germain chose that moment to interject, “If I may, Lady Mary is right in that we are now being closely watched by everyone around us.” To Valerian, he calmly said, “I am Sir Dante St. Germain, and I believe your fiancée was just telling me how her intended had something of great importance to tell me.”
If Mary thought Valerian would blush in embarrassment, she was sorely disappointed on that score. Instead, he straightened himself to his full height and brought himself back to a semblance of control as she watched his face morph into a mask of smooth calm.
“My apologies, Ambassador,” he said with a small incline of his head. “There has been much cause for my state of distress, having been ordered to shoulder a heavy burden on behalf of my king.”
“Who so happens to be your cousin,” St. Germain stated as he, too, gave a small bow of his head. “Yes, I’ve heard of you, Comte Loire.”
Still mindful that they were in full view of everyone milling about the busy street, Mary pasted on her brightest smile, and said, “Valerian, he was was kind enough to escort me back from the apothecary after I had told him of your need to speak with him.”
Briefly, surprise and relief crossed Valerian’s features, which were quickly schooled into an impassive look before he replied, “It is both a relief and pleasure to finally meet you, Ambassador. I am indeed Comte Loire, and I have been eager to discuss serious matters with you on behalf of King Bastien.”
Valerian had offered a hand for the man to shake while he introduced himself, and St. Germain promptly shook it in a strong grip that surprised Valerian. “Ah, Comte Loire, your lovely fiancée has regaled me of the lengths you have gone to in the effort to hunt me down. It is very lucky that she and I had met when we did, otherwise you might have gone on longer in your search.”
Mary scowled at St. Germain’s slick introduction, and she flicked a glance in Valerian’s direction to see that he, too, was displeased at the insinuation implied in his statement. But Valerian smoothly said, “I also find myself very fortunate that Mary had found you. If you would but spare me a moment of your time I have much to discuss with you, but a public street is not the proper place for such a discussion. Would you follow me into a more private setting?”
Watching St. Germain bestow a secret smile down at Mary irritated Valerian to no end, and he barely refrained from growling at the knowing gesture. St. Germain chuckled lightly as he replied, “If it weren’t for your lovely fiancée’s loyalty, I would have wheedled the reason for your urgency out of her somehow. But by all means, my lord, please lead the way, and we can get on with it.”
But not before he snatched Mary out of the oily man’s grasp. Valerian reached for her free hand and brought her in close to his own side, pulling her away from St. Germain in the process. The action only served to amuse St. Germain as his grin grew wider, but Valerian didn’t care.
Mary could feel the coiled tension just through the contact of her hand on Valerian’s arm and tentatively whispered, “I can explain. Nothing—”
“Later,” Valerian said abruptly, and Mary allowed herself to be pulled through the hotel doors without a further word. It was clear he was upset, but she didn’t know if she was the cause. She supposed she would find out once they were alone.
***
Valerian had led the way to his set of rooms, and the three of them, along with Simon and Brielle, were enclosed within the privacy of his sitting room. At their entry, the two guards Valerian had stationed to guard the Ark looked up, but Valerian had signaled them to be at ease with a simple wave of his hand.
Once everyone concerned was seated, Valerian cut straight to the chase by saying, “As ambassador of King Charles of France, you are our best chance of helping Mont-Tremblant by rallying much needed backing from some of the most influential houses of France. You would also know best from which of those houses would have King Charles’ ear in the event that we may need use of his own military forces.”
St. Germain seemed to absorb this information as he sat stock still, unmoving. When he finally spoke, he commented, “I can only gather from your flattery that you are trying to appeal to my good nature. Just so I am to understand, is King Bastien expecting a war?”
Cryptically, Valerian said, “Let us just say that Bastien has reason to take necessary steps to defend his position, which is currently in jeopardy as we speak.”
Mulling over that statement, St. Germain looked askance at both Mary then at Valerian. “My powers as an ambassador are not so lofty as that of one of King Charles’ advisors, but it seems that you were right to come to me. My time in Mont-Tremblant has taught me much of your laws and ways, enough so that I am deftly able to petition the families I have in mind and in so doing, petition the king on Mont-Tremblant’s behalf.”
Looking extremely relieved, Valerian breathed out, “You have both mine and Bastien’s thanks. He bade me find you when we landed here, and at first, I hadn’t much hope that we could even achieve this much.”
“Don’t thank me just yet. It will take some time for me to contact the right persons, but given the love that France has for Mont-Tremblant, I have every reason to believe that the Republic of Mont-Tremblant will have the support it needs.”
“That is heartening to know, at least,” Mary said. “Now that this business has been seen to, Valerian and I have no need to linger about Paris.”
“Ah, your nuptials,” St. Germain guessed. “You both must be eager to be married. In Mont-Tremblant, I take it? King Bastien most likely wouldn’t want it any other way.”
Smirking at the mention of his royal cousin, Valerian agreed, “You’re right. He’s the only one I know who’s arrogant enough to expect such a thing.”
“Then I won’t keep you much longer,” St. Germain said as he stood up to leave. Then looking meaningfully at Valerian, he said, “Like I have said, I am well-versed in Mont-Tre
mblant laws and traditions, and the only reason King Bastien’s position would be in danger is if the Ark is no longer in his possession. If he is able to recover the Ark, then my part in all of this will be entirely unnecessary, and we can call this meeting a friendly visit.”
“But if it isn’t found?” Mary urged.
“Then I will do my utmost to rally the strongest supporters for Mont-Tremblant. That is the least I can do for the country which is as much my homeland as France.”
Valerian nodded and stood to show the ambassador to the door. “You have our gratitude. Thank you for understanding how dire this situation is.”
“But of course,” St. Germain jovially waved off Valerian’s thanks. “My work as ambassador is never done, even on a bit of holiday.” Bowing to Mary, he acknowledged, “You can thank Lady Mary for taking the very last bit of valerian root instead. Adieu.” Then he turned on his heel to leave.
Puzzled, Valerian glanced at Mary for clarification, but she shrugged and said, “He’s right. If he hadn’t needed it, I wouldn’t have met the man at all.”
