Chapter 11 #3
Henriette clasped her hands together dramatically. “Look at those blushes, I knew it, a love match, I can always tell. You look just like my older sister did when she met her Antoine. You must tell me all the details of how you met.”
Alix abandoned all hope of following Victor’s descriptions of the planned legislation. Smiling at Henriette she searched for an answer that would be closest to the truth. “We met at a small private gathering and he quite swept me off my feet.”
“How romantic,” Henriette sighed.
Alix saw Rafe’s shoulders quiver as he turned his attention back to Victor and Mayor de Poix.
Henriette sighed again. “You are so fortunate. The men here are so dull. I fear I will never meet anyone suitable. I would love to go to Paris, but mother says it is far too dangerous. After breakfast you simply must come upstairs with me. You can freshen up in my bedchamber and tell me more about the city.”
Alix dabbed at her mouth. “It’s an enticing offer, but I am certain that mon...” she caught herself. “My husband... will be anxious for us to be on our way.”
“Oh but you can’t,” Henriette said. “Your postilion has gone back to Paris.”
Alix turned to stare at her. “He’s gone back to Paris?” she repeated dumbly. Henriette nodded.
Alix struggled to keep her voice calm. “We must meet a packet that is sailing from Calais in two days. Is there a public stable that might help us make new arrangements?” Henriette shook her head.
Alix looked across the table at Rafe, desperate to catch his attention, but he was deeply absorbed in his conversation.
She frowned. Perhaps they could rent horses and ride to the next town, have Rafe’s and Jervis’s trunks sent after.
She felt a hand on her sleeve, and turned to see Henriette smiling mischievously at her. “I have an incredible idea.”
“Victor,” Henriette called down the table.
“Victor, cease discussing your dull politics for one moment and listen to me.” He stopped mid-sentence and looked at his younger sister.
“The Harcrests’s postilion has returned to Paris without them and they must meet a ship at Calais.
You’re traveling in that direction, and there’s plenty of room in your carriage. Why don’t you take them up with you?”
Rafe frowned. “It’s a kind offer, but we wouldn’t want to cause your brother any inconvenience.”
Victor smiled. “It would be no inconvenience at all. I’d be glad for the company. If anyone objects, I shall simply say that I am doing my part to further trade between our two countries.”
“We’re on a rather tight schedule,” Rafe persisted.
“And so am I. We can leave as soon as you’re ready.”
“Well, then it’s settled,” Henriette said smiling.
She waved a hand. “Very good gentlemen, continue as you were.” Turning to Alix she said, “Why don’t you come upstairs with me.
I have a fichu you might have and we can see what can be done about freshening your clothes while my maid dresses your hair. ”
Descending the stairs a half an hour later, her ears ringing from Henriette’s artless chatter but her appearance considerably refreshed, Alix encountered Rafe. He’d changed his shirt and shaved, and someone had bandaged his head.
He held out a hand. “Walk with me a moment, Alix.” Tucking her hand under his elbow, he led her out of the house into the de Poix’s small flower garden.
It was a far cry from the elaborate gardens of Valcour, Alix thought, a simple diamond framed by low hedges with a centerpiece of rose bushes, the few remaining flowers straining to retain their petals against the stiff September breeze.
When they had walked a safe distance from the house, Rafe stopped. Drawing Alix up, he said, “I can’t allow you to travel with Victor; it’s far too dangerous.”
Alix raised a brow. “You can’t allow me?”
Rafe ran a hand through his hair, “Alix, he’s a National Assembly member.”
“You thought I hadn’t noticed?” A slight smile curved her full lips.
“You are the most damnably frustrating woman.” In more ways than one, he thought.
Alix squeezed his arm. “If you think about it, it’s a perfect arrangement. No one would ever imagine an aristocrat would be riding with a government representative.”
“I still don’t like it.”
“You and Jervis keep telling me my identity papers are a work of art and all our other papers are in perfect order. Victor’s father has approved them. There shouldn’t be any problem.”
“But what if you accidentally let something slip?”
She tossed her head, the red and blue ribbons of Henriette’s borrowed bonnet fluttering in the wind. “And what is there to let slip, citizen? I am the newly married wife of the upstanding English merchant Rafe Harcrest. A man who is willing to defend his bride’s honor, even to the jakes.”
He looked down on her, his brow furrowed with concern.
Alix felt an odd desire to smooth the deep indentation above his aquiline nose. “We both know this is our best chance of meeting the packet.”
He started to speak, and she pressed a finger to his lips. “I can do this Rafe. I made it from Valcour to Paris and I won’t founder now. Trust me.”