Chapter 14 #3
Each time they paused for the princess to recover her breath, she spoke to Amy about the things she had thus far learned and seen in Spa.
She regaled her with the stories of beggars she had spoken to, whose plight interested her very much.
She told Amy about which marchande sold the best fruits and vegetables.
And in stilted English, she recounted how the welcoming committee used to set off artillery each time a carriage brought newcomers and how the sound boomed off the hills.
That was put to an end once the more influential residents complained of the noise.
She was clearly a curious woman, for she was very well-informed.
Amy contributed little to the conversation other than to show interest and ask what she hoped were intelligent questions.
There were certain things that would be too encroaching to inquire about, such as why the princess had come to Spa and when she had lost her husband.
Given how many times she was forced to pause in the walk, Amy feared she was not in the best of health.
That would explain her drinking the waters so diligently.
The only reason Amy continued to do so was to watch over her father and make sure he came to no harm.
The servant pointed to a clearing ahead, and Amy gleaned from his French that they had reached the end of their climb.
“There is other reason I invite you walk with me,” the princess said, now appearing almost shy. “I need improve English tongue. I invite you read with me mornings, for I go London after I leave Spa.” She met Amy’s gaze. “You agree?”
“It would be my pleasure,” Amy replied, touched by the request and by the knowledge that she might prove useful to the princess.
She was useful to her family, of course, but this was different.
Her family expected it of her and were so accustomed to it, they couldn’t possibly value her for it.
The princess, however, appeared as though she might.
“We begin tomorrow, then.” They left the wooded path and entered a grass-filled plateau, where they had a glimpse of the famous cottage.
The sun showed itself in timid bursts from the clouds as Pavel ran into the field with Anastasia following more sedately.
She was still a girl but would soon enter the cusp of womanhood.
“C’est par là.” The servant pointed to the road where the carriages would arrive.
On one side, large rocks jutted out from the hillside, and beyond it they had a partial view of the cottage with an open stable attached.
A man in homespun trousers and a broadcloth shirt appeared when they approached.
He called to his wife, who came forward in an apron covering a russet skirt.
It was the famed Lubin and Annette, Amy learned, and they made their reverence to both the princess and to her, making no distinction between them.
The princess asked in French how many they were expecting and received the answer that sixteen in all would be dining there that day.
“Number does not include children, I think,” she told Amy.
The sound of an arriving carriage came seconds before it appeared on the dirt path, and it was followed by two more.
Amy recognized the first as her own but did not know the other two.
As her family’s carriage came to a stop, Amy heard voices from the woods behind them and turned to catch sight of others exiting from the path.
Apparently, they were not the only ones who had walked.
She did not realize how great her hopes of seeing James were until her heart sank with disappointment as she identified Mr. Lambert and Mr. MacFirbis.
Although spending time with the princess had chased thoughts of James out of her head, he was never far from her mind.
After meeting him again at Waux-Hall, it was beginning to seem as though she should always meet him when out.
The society was intimate enough that such a thing was not unreasonable.
A third gentleman, who was not James either, exited from the woods into the clearing, and she took herself to task. When will I stop looking for him?
She excused herself to the princess and went over to assist her father out of the carriage. Rebecca alighted next and looked over at the carriage behind theirs. She emitted a little “oh” as a faint blush lit her cheeks.
Amy followed her gaze and now understood.
Mr. Moreau was awkwardly climbing out of the second carriage.
Although they had not spoken of it, Amy’s suspicion that Rebecca had an interest in that direction was strengthened.
Rounding the carriage from the back were its other occupants. James—and Miss Prexley.
Oh. She was to have her wish to see James after all. But such a selfish wish could not go unpunished, for he was there with his betrothed. It would serve her right to watch Miss Prexley flirt with James right under her nose. Perhaps then she would stop hoping for something that could never be.