Epilogue
E pilogue
“G illes, you are driving me insane! Why won’t you tell me who she is?”
“Because, ma douce, it is that secret. Now that I’m in London, and you’ve agreed to marry me, she will become even more important.”
Abby frowned at her intended as they walked into the unfamiliar townhouse. It was clear he was not about to budge on this, but it had been days of this merciless secret keeping, and she was beyond irritated now.
No one had told her whose house this was, why this had to be such a private gathering, or why the coach had taken at least seven unnecessary turns in bringing them here. She was a covert operative, for heaven’s sake, and even she had never employed these extensive tactics. Was this mysterious half-sister of his late wife actually one of the king’s sisters? There was no other possibility with all of this being implemented.
The last month had been an absolute whirlwind, and being in London for a week hadn’t done anything to lessen it.
The Faction had accepted Gilles’s offer to be their fresh contact in London Society, and they’d asked him to be there as soon as possible. He’d been in endless meetings with known Faction members and supporters, leaving him in no doubt of what his role would be and how crucial it was to them.
It would make his task of deception and interception more difficult, but he was willing.
Gaston was no longer going to take an unwilling Society bride, but as the orders had come from those he respected, the decision was accepted easily. Whether that would help the brothers gain any sort of relationship akin to the one they had lost was in doubt, but Gilles did not seem particularly concerned about that.
Abby, for one, hadn’t expected to come away from her assignment with an engagement, but there was nothing to be done about it now. She’d met with Milliner first thing, and after loudly expressing concerns that all of her teachers were going to leave her to become wives and mothers, they’d begun to strategize how to best use her in the new position she would take up.
Gilles, on the other hand, had finally met Trick in person, but refused to tell Abby who else had been there. It would be better, for now, if their contacts were fairly separate so as to eliminate confusion. They would only work together as Briton when the time called for it, and she would still be Pearl in the meanwhile. They could confide in each other and advise and such, but their assignments would be separate.
Mostly.
When she was Mrs. Bichard, she would be attending all of the same Society functions he would, including meeting with all of his old and new associates. She would have to be charming and graceful, filled with politeness and natural disinterest towards anything of a political nature, and familiar with everyone and everything Society had to offer.
It would be the role of a lifetime, and she was eager to get started.
Not least because she would be Mrs. Bichard in truth, which was all she really wanted.
He offered her a home for life with his love, and she was clinging to that for all it was worth.
The girls had no real qualms about leaving Guernsey for London, especially with the understanding that they would be going back from time to time, particularly when the numbers in Society were depleted.
Apparently, the Faction still loved that Gilles had a home with a beachside cavernous access, so they wanted him there occasionally.
Gilles had found it very interesting that he was now so important when he had been merely the manager of the post for the last few years.
Abby did not find it interesting. She saw the wisdom in it at once. Gilles was throwing himself into the heart of Faction operations, which would show interest and loyalty. They were rewarding him with their attention and using what he had to offer.
It meant he would gain even more information and insight into future plans and operations, which would be turned over to the English operatives and the Shopkeepers for their use.
This was going to be a brilliant excursion, however long it lasted.
He did have the assurance of his superiors that he would not be in any actual danger, as he had daughters to think of, and he was holding them to that assurance.
Whether or not it was true would remain to be seen.
“Abigail. Come along.”
Abby started, not realizing she had paused her step in her reflection and hurried up to Gilles, taking his hand in hers and lacing their fingers. “What is she going to think of me?”
He looked surprised by the question. “I never took you for an insecure creature, my Abigail. What’s brought this on?”
“I’m meeting the English half-sister of your late wife,” she bit out a bit more harshly than she intended, her chest tightening with nerves. “It’s practically like meeting Heloise herself while knowing I am stepping into her place as your wife and the maternal figure of your daughters! Who wouldn’t have insecurities about this?”
“Shh, ma douce,” Gilles soothed, taking her hand and kissing the back twice before kissing the palm. “My goodness, I had no idea you felt this way.”
Abby wasn’t entirely certain she wanted him knowing she felt this way, but anxieties were what they were, and they’d just come barreling out of her like she had no control whatsoever. Her cheeks began to heat as mortification slipped in and she closed her eyes, swallowing hard.
She felt his gentle touch on her cheek and knew he wanted her eyes, so she opened them and looked at him in spite of everything.
His smile was just as warm and delightful as it had ever been, his eyes crinkling beautifully. “Heloise would have adored you. The two of you would have been fast friends and left me out of everything. Her sister is much like her, in her own way, and will bear you no ill will or even judgment for marrying me. Well, perhaps judgment, because I fully believe she will be of the opinion that you deserve better, but there is no accounting for taste.”
Abby giggled as the man she adored made a sympathetic face. How did he manage to amuse and settle her in one single breath? How could he know exactly what she needed and give it so freely?
How had she ever lived her life without him?
She looped her arms around his neck, sighing softly. “I love you.”
Gilles leaned in and kissed her slowly, but thoroughly. “I love you, too, Abigail.” He brushed his nose against hers and took her hand again, winking as their fingers naturally folded together. “Come.”
With a gentle tug, he pulled her down the marble corridor and to a room on the right at the end of it, a quiet, yellow-papered drawing room.
It was empty.
“I thought we might be first,” Gilles said as they entered. “We will only have a few moments to wait.” He walked over to the divan closest to the window and sat, looking around the room almost fondly.
Abby watched him, puzzled. “Have you been here before?”
“Once,” he replied easily. “After I married Heloise. It is the home of her godfather.”
“Who is?”
“Dead.”
Abby rolled her eyes, shaking her head and walking to the windows. “You cannot even tell me that much?”
“I would apologize, ma douce, but I was sworn to absolute secrecy. It is your country’s protectors who have insisted it, so what can I do?” He only shrugged, completely unruffled by any of this.
Truth be told, Abby wasn’t all that upset either. Whoever was managing all of this would have had their reasons, and if Heloise was that well connected, it would be crucial indeed to protect it. One could only imagine who her father must have been as an operative and as a man. Some influence, if not fortune as well, and certainly plenty of training.
A family tradition that might be continuing, it seemed.
“So you said this sister helped Heloise to assume her role of Briton?” Abby eventually said when the silence became too much.
“Oui. They corresponded regularly, albeit complicatedly.”
Abby blinked and turned to face him. “Is that even a word?”
Gilles laughed loudly once. “Je ne sais pas, ma douce. It is your language, not mine.”
“How was it complicated?” she asked, folding her arms.
“They wrote in code, and the letters had to be sent to a contact in Paris, who would then send it to whichever sister it was for.” Gilles shook his head, still laughing. “It took twice as long to get anywhere, but they insisted on it.”
Abby scoffed, unable to believe the lengths they went to. “Whatever for?”
“Because no one could know we were sisters. Heloise would never have been trusted as the wife of Gilles, and I very much value my privacy. Besides, I have a very strong dislike of anyone knowing how to get in touch with me,” announced a sharp, carefully cultured feminine voice that Abby had not heard in years.
But one she knew all too well.
She turned to the doorway of the room and gaped at the dark-haired, statuesque, intimidating woman standing there.
“Tilda?”