Bewitching

by Amelia Grey

  "My father wants me to remarry, but how could I when I am now the wife of a king?" As if sensing she'd said too much, Betsy pulled a handkerchief from inside the cuff of her sleeve and wiped the corners of her eyes.

  Too mesmerized by her story to speak, Chelly remained silent, but Austin asked, "What do you plan to do to Jerome?"

  Bitterness crept into her voice. "After what Jerome has done to me, all I can possibly do for him is hold my tongue. I knew Jerome wanted his son. He has begged me many times to send Bo to him in Westphalia. He even asked me to join him—but only after he'd made the marriage Napoleon had arranged for him. How childish, how immature, how arrogant of him to think he could have two queens! My sorrow, my cross is that Jerome didn't have the strength of character to stand up to the mighty Napoleon." Betsy turned to Chelly. "I can't have Jerome, the love of my life; but thanks to you, I do have his son. Please accept my gratitude."

  Chelly managed a weak nod.

  "No matter how diverse your roles in this incident, I must ask a deeply important favor from you both." She looked from one to the other. "I'll see to it there will be no charges brought against either of you under the condition that you never make this kidnapping public."

  Chelly gasped.

  Austin felt as if his heart might beat out of his chest. Did the woman know what she was saying? Did she have the authority to say it? He chanced a quick glance over to Chelly. He didn't know how much longer she could sit in that chair. She looked as if she were about to faint.

  "Chelly can go free?" Austin asked.

  "Yes, both of you. But only if you promise complete silence. I can't allow this story to even be rumored. There could be any number of like attempts from fortune hunters. It would be too easy for someone to decide to kidnap Bo and take him to his father for favors or hold Bo for ransom. The next person to try might not have a Miss Worthington to look after Bo. Someone else might succeed. Bo will be a wealthy young man one day. Not only from his father, the king, but also from my father. I'm certain it would be to Bo's detriment to allow gossip of this incident to flourish."

  "We can both go free? No charges? No questions? No answers? No mention this ever happened?"

  "That's correct. The important thing is that I have my son. From now on, I'll take proper care to see that he's safe and guarded at all times until he's old enough to make up his own mind about his father."

  Austin couldn't believe this was true. It was too easy. Silence was all she requested after he'd admitted to taking her son all the way to France. No anger? No punishment? No revenge? What kind of woman was she?

  Chelly coughed and Austin glanced her way. "I swear we'll never say a word of this, but what of the marshal and the guards? What is to keep them from talking?"

  "The guards don't know why you're here. And the marshal and the few others who know about this want to keep their jobs. As you know, Mr. Radcliffe, my father is very powerful in this city. The glory of telling a story such as this dims in the light of a man facing the desire to feed and take care of his family."

  Without further hesitation, Austin said, "Swear to it, Chelly."

  "Yes, of course, I swear, I'll never breathe a word to anyone. I'll take this my grave."

  The woman's sad, dark eyes rested on his face for a moment. "As soon as I've talked with the marshal, you'll be free to go." She turned and as quietly, regally as she had entered, she walked out.

  "Bradley!" Austin called, pulling against the chains that bound him to the chair. "Come in here and get us out of these damned things."

  Chapter 21

  Sunshine spilling across the foot of the bed was the first thing Chelly saw when she awakened. She lay on her back in a bed she didn't recognize. Slowly she looked around. The room was pleasant to the eyes. A low fire burned in the fireplace, giving her a cozy feeling. Above the mantel hung a large mirror with brass candlesticks mounted on each side. A dusty-pink rose pattern had been stenciled along the top of the wall just below the ceiling. Draperies in the same color fabric hung at the one window. The side chair sitting next to her bed had been covered in flower-printed velvet.

  Chelly took in a deep breath. The ache in her chest was gone. She swallowed. There was very little pain in her throat and the constant roaring had left her ears. She smiled as she raised up on her elbows. Her head felt a bit fuzzy, but the dizziness that had plagued her had vanished. She tried to remember exactly what had happened to bring her to this beautiful room.

  Austin.

  They were sitting in a room talking to Betsy Patterson. Chelly remembered trying her best to focus on the conversation, willing herself not to pass out. The next thing she remembered was Austin holding her in his arms.

  Oh, yes, she remembered feeling the sunshine on her face, breathing the fresh air, hearing the sounds of people walking and talking, vendors, horses and carriages. Closing her eyes and sighing, she remembered more. Being held close to Austin's chest as the carriage clipped along the bumpy road. She remembered his warmth, softly spoken words, kisses on her forehead, his arms around her waist and shoulders.

  Chelly could dream of Austin forever, but she also recalled a kind-looking woman's face. She remembered that the woman had warm, gentle hands, a sweet smile, and a soft voice that inspired trust.

  "Oh, you're awake and almost sitting up, too."

  Chelly's eyes popped open. The woman she'd been thinking about walked into her room. Chelly knew immediately she was Austin's mother, although she didn't remember that anyone had actually told her that.

  "How wonderful! My goodness you look so much better than when Austin brought you here. I believe you have more color to your cheeks and lips this morning, too. And your eyes have lost that glazed expression that frightened all of us." She stopped beside the bed.

  The older woman looked frail with her light-green eyes, pale complexion, and dark-brown hair, but her vivacious smile and tone of voice belied that notion. She was a woman of strength.

  "You're Austin's mother."

  "Yes, dear." She smiled cheerfully. "We met, but you were more or less asleep, I think. You looked dreadful when Austin brought you up the stairs in the middle of the night. I worried you wouldn't make it until morning."

  "I've been sick."

  "That's making light of your condition. You were seriously ill, young lady. Seriously."

  "What—how long have I been here?"

  Mrs. Radcliffe clasped her hands together in front of her. "Oh, not long, dear. Less than a week. Once we got you settled in a warm bed and started giving you proper medication and my own secret-recipe chicken broth, you started getting better." She patted Chelly's arm. "Your fever went away. Those horrible coughing fits subsided, and you started resting through the night."

  Chelly moistened her lips and raked her hair away from her face with the palm of her hand. "How's Austin?"

  Mrs. Radcliffe folded her arms across her chest and huffed. "Back at work, I'm afraid." A worried wrinkle appeared between her eyebrows. "As soon as your fever broke, he made arrangements to return to Baltimore. I begged him not to go back to town for the rest of the week, but he said he'd been away from his business too long as it was.

  "He took that long trip to Europe, you know, and he says he's behind in everything. He's been handling the business since his father died five years ago. He was so worried about you, dear. He's already sent Jubal back once just to get word of your progress."

  Disappointment settled over Chelly. She'd hoped Austin was here so she could tell him how sorry she was about that man hitting him and how she was overwhelmed with gratitude for Betsy's generosity. But, maybe he was right in leaving before she fully recovered. Seeing him would only make it harder to leave him.

  "Yes, I know about the trip to Europe." Chelly took a deep-sighing breath. "It was nice of Austin to bring me here and so very kind of you to offer your home to me."

  "Austin told me to tell you he'd be back to check on you in a few days. He asked me how long I thought it would take for y
ou to recuperate, and I told him at least two weeks. I'm pleased to say you're making wonderful progress. Do you feel like eating?"

  "Yes," she said, wanting to get her strength back as soon as possible. "I'm sorry to have intruded on your home. I'll always be grateful to you for allowing Austin to disrupt your life like this."

  "Don't be ridiculous," she said, brushing aside Chelly's comment. "Austin wanted you here, and so do I. You're presence not only gives me company, it gives me something to do other than to look after myself. It can get quite lonely out here sometimes with only the servants to talk to."

  "Thank you," Chelly whispered, realizing she was getting tired.

  "Well, now, I'm going to let you rest while I have the cook prepare a tasty dinner for us. I told Austin when he returned we'd roast a goose and glaze it with apple butter. It's divine and one of his favorites. I'm sure you'll love it, too."

  * * *

  The Maryland countryside was beautiful, enchanting, bewitching, Chelly thought as she lounged on a chair in the back garden of the Radcliffe estate. She didn't want to go back to the hustling crowds and noise of downtown Baltimore, but she couldn't accept Beatrice's hospitality much longer. She grew stronger each day.

  Chelly had walked through the flower garden three times that day, gaining more strength each time she made the trip. Another day of rest and she'd be ready to declare herself well enough to start applying for employment as a governess. It had been more than six months since she'd left the Duncans. She hoped any gossip surrounding that had been forgotten.

  Chelly lay back in the lounge chair and shielded her eyes with her hand as she looked beyond the trees on the outskirts of the property and to the flaming blue-and-red sky of late afternoon. The day was so perfect and peaceful she didn't want it to end.

  She closed her eyes and thought back to how Austin had seemed so worried about her in that office at police headquarters, but she also remembered he felt guilty that he was the reason she was there. She couldn't help but wonder how he really felt about her.

  That night in his arms, she'd known that he cared for her, but what did he feel now that she'd succeeded in returning Bo to his mother? Was he angry with her for all she'd done to accomplish that? She loved him with all her heart. Of that there was no doubt.

  "Beautiful, isn't it?"

  Chelly opened her eyes and saw Beatrice Radcliffe standing on the slate patio in the middle of the garden. She wore a sunbonnet, and a thin shawl draped her slender shoulders.

  "Yes, summer is my favorite time of year. I hate those cold, gray days of winter. I like sunshine and warmth even though Baltimore is more noted for its drab, rainy weather than for its sunshine."

  Mrs. Radcliffe walked over and took the chair beside Chelly. She chuckled lightly. "Where's your bonnet? Your skin is going to get red and splotchy. You'll end up with as many freckles as my son-in-law, Bradley Thornhill."

  Chelly's wide smile turned into a laugh as she thought about the red-faced lawyer and how he'd insisted on putting her in her place. She had to admit that she now felt kinder toward Bradley than she had at first. She'd always be grateful he'd given her his coat.

  "Do you know him?"

  Chelly nodded. "We've met. Right now I don't care about my skin. I'm so happy to feel the sunshine on my face that I can't worry about a pink nose and red cheeks."

  "Well, I have orders to take care of you, and burning your skin is not in your best interest."

  "I guess not." She looked up at the magnificent expanse of sky and smiled. "I don't know any way to explain it except to say I'm so happy to be alive. I'm feeling so much better, and I want to enjoy every minute of this day and all its beauty. I don't want it to end."

  Beatrice sat so quietly for a few minutes that Chelly glanced over at her. A faraway expression clouded her eyes. She fondled a gold broach that rested at the base of her throat.

  "Are you all right?" Chelly asked.

  "I remember a day much like this one," Beatrice said softly. "Maybe it wasn't as warm, but there was a beautiful stillness as there is today."

  The tone of Austin's mother's voice caused Chelly to sit up straighter. There was a thoughtful quality to the expression on her face that piqued Chelly's interest.

  Beatrice looked out over the garden as with sightless eyes. "It was only a little over five years ago, but it seems much longer than that to me now. I was in the same position you are, only I'd been sick much longer. I'd been bed-ridden all winter and most of the spring, too. I don't know why, but the beauty and the stillness of this afternoon reminds me of that day. It's odd really. I haven't thought about it in a long time."

  "What made the day so special?" Chelly asked, not wanting to be forward but sensing the woman wanted to talk about that particular afternoon.

  Her hand remained at her throat, her fingers slowly caressing the brooch. "I'm not sure special is the right word. In one way it was the worst day of my life, and in another it was the best day of my life."

  Chelly heard emotion in her voice. She prompted, "I'll listen, if you want to talk about it."

  "Yes, I think I do." She untied the satin ribbon underneath her chin and pulled off her bonnet, exposing herself to the fading sunlight she'd just reprimanded Chelly about. "I've only talked with Austin about it and not with him for a long time now. It was the most frightening day of my life."

  "What happened?"

  The faraway quality didn't leave her eyes. "As said, I'd been sick most of the spring. The coughing and fevers had lingered. On a day like this one, I was feeling so much better that Austin decided to take me for a ride in the carriage. We rode all over the countryside. Heaven couldn't have sent us a more beautiful day. I didn't want it to end, so Austin was reluctant to head home even when the day grew late.

  "Austin and I were attacked by three robbers. The war hadn't been over all that long. It was a bad time for a lot of people. Austin freely gave them his money and my reticule. I hated to give it up—it was one of my favorites and it didn't have anything in it but an extra handkerchief. But then they wanted this." Her hand went back to her brooch. Chelly saw tremble in her movements. "I didn't want to give it up. My husband had given it to me as a wedding gift. I thought it was far too precious to me. I should have let the men have it."

  Keenly interested in the story, Chelly asked, "What happened?" Beatrice fiddled with the neckline of her dress as she recalled the story. Chelly watched the man's eyes change from a light shade of green to a deeper color. She sensed the woman was actually reliving that day in her mind.

  "Austin took on all three of the men."

  "My goodness, how? Did they have swords or pistols?"

  "Oh, my yes, both. Austin was in the carriage, of course, so the first thing he did was reach over and cut the neck of one of the robbers' horse. That took care of him for a few moments. Austin jumped from the carriage and slapped the horse on the rump, hoping it would take off running and get me out of the way, but the old horse just bucked and snorted. It was so frightened. I didn't know what to do. I saw one of the men go down. He was covered in blood and didn't get up, so I knew he was dead.

  "But then both the other two men challenged Austin at the same time. Swords were clashing there were shouts and grunts. I was beside myself, looking around the carriage to see if I could find some kind of weapon so I could help Austin. He's an excellent swordsman, but so were the other two men. I screamed when I saw one of the men's swords slice across Austin stomach. Blood soaked his shirt immediately."

  Chelly shivered. "Austin was fighting both men at the same time?"

  "Oh, yes. It was frightful. Austin started yelling for me to run. I couldn't find the reins so I jumped from the carriage, intending to run for help. One of the robbers caught me around the waist, almost lifting me off the ground. I saw Austin charging toward us. I saw the blade of the robber's sword coming toward my chest. Austin couldn't reach me in time. I closed my eyes, knowing I was going to die. But then a shot rang out. The sword fell from the
man's hand and he tumbled to the ground."

  "Who shot the robber?" Chelly asked, completely caught up in the story.

  Beatrice smiled. "The most dashing man I have ever seen. He was simply splendid. He wore a coat of purple satin, trimmed with white and silver embroidery. His gold epaulets were thick and his buttons shiny. The scabbard at his side was the fanciest I've ever seen. His hair was lightly powdered beneath his tricorn hat with its red plume."

  Chelly couldn't imagine who would make Austin's mother carry on so about his appearance. She'd obviously been impressed by the man. "Who was he?" she asked again.

  "Oh, my dear, it was Jerome Bonaparte, Napoleon's youngest brother."

  Chelly gasped so loud Beatrice looked her way. Chelly's mind immediately filled with questions, with answers, with hope.

  "Yes, dear, strange as it seems. At the time, Jerome lived here in Baltimore with his wife Betsy Patterson. I'm sure you know their sad story. Everyone has heard it."

  "Yes, I know it." Chelly's voice was husky. She suddenly felt weak again. In a rush of understanding, Chelly started fitting together all the pieces of Austin's behavior.

  "Jerome saved my life and Austin's, too. After shooting the man who held me, Jerome took care of the last robber. Exhausted Austin fell to his knees. Blood poured from his side and arm. He was gravely injured but thankfully he recovered."

  "He was grateful to Jerome," Chelly murmured.

  "Oh, it was much more than that," she said with conviction. "Austin couldn't have saved me. There was no time. And he couldn't have held out against robber. He'd lost too much blood. Grateful? Oh yes, he was grateful, but he's also indebted to him. He told the flamboyant young man that he owed him his mother's life and vowed to act upon any favor. Jerome might ask. All Jerome need ever do was to call on him. He'd be forever in his debt."

  "I understand now," she whispered. Now she knew why Austin had agreed to take the kidnapped little boy to France. He was fulfilling a vow. Why hadn't he told her? Why hadn't she forced him to give her his reasons?