Chapter 40
Chapter Forty
It was another week of official responsibilities before Philippe could lead the remaining men—both soldiers and prisoners—back to Chevalerie.
Michel had taken the first group back a few days earlier, but Philippe waited on escorts from Chevalerie, who would oversee the Marquis’ transport back to Ponce.
Michel had conceded to place the Marquis under house arrest in Ponce until he was well enough to stand trial in Chevalerie, but given his condition, the brothers recognized that this temporary punishment may be indefinite.
Philippe knew this could invoke his father’s fury.
The Duke wouldn’t be keen to let the Marquis evade a trial and sentence, but at the same time, Philippe understood the futility of marching a gravely wounded man across the countryside just to be thrown into some oubliette.
The threat had been neutralized. Now, Philippe just hoped to provide Emily with some stability.
The Marquis du Ponce would be stripped of his title and would be required to pay off debts, as well as fund the Chevalerie soldiers who would have to become a permanent fixture in Ponce.
Emily’s life would be very different from here on out.
Philippe was troubled that she would now have to suffer the humiliation of her husband.
Emily had proven herself to be an ally, so he hoped his father would provide her some consideration.
At least for now, she would be occupied with the task of caring for her ailing and incarcerated husband.
As for the Marquis, Philippe was sure Emily wouldn’t let him forget that there would be no more balls under his roof.
The morning was full of early sunshine as Philippe and his party crossed the southern gates of Aliette.
Though they were on their way home, his job was not quite over.
In addition to the Marquis, Giroux had to be dealt with.
Also, the river towns, blameless themselves, could not be forgotten.
Though each task weighed on him, Philippe felt the excitement of a new adventure, the best adventure.
It was the life he would embark on with Alex, and the thought of it made him as light as a cloud.
She was trotting her horse a few yards ahead.
He watched her strong, elegant form, which he now knew so much more intimately than before.
As he stared, she turned her head to him and smiled.
It was a simple gesture but something that made his heart race in his chest. Who would have thought that just a short time ago, he didn’t know what was missing in life, but now, with this wild woman at his side, he finally felt grounded.
Solid. Terrific. He could take on the world.
He angled his horse closer to her. They were setting out on a two-day journey in which they would have to camp between towns. They would have no privacy, and he was already feeling antsy as his need for her was cropping up. Then she turned to him and spoke.
She turned to him and spoke low enough that no one else could hear, “You know that thing you do to me?”
Philippe smiled wickedly at her. “Which thing?”
“With your mouth?” she replied.
He shifted uncomfortably in the saddle, remembering her body spread open before him. “Uh huh,” he said dumbly.
“I want to do that to you.”
His brain moved slowly. “What do you mean?”
“I want to use my mouth,” she bit her lip coyly, “on you.”
It felt like everything in his body stopped.
He couldn’t speak or think. His pants became two sizes too small and he lost feeling in his arms and legs.
He could recognize the smug satisfaction in her face as the realization of what she had said crept over him.
She was just teasing him now. When he could function, he spoke.
“You can do anything you like to me with that glorious mouth of yours, little fox.”
“Then I think I would like to try that sometime,” she said.
She turned to ride her horse ahead, leaving him to his mutinous body.
Okay, well, she won this round, he thought.
But he would get her back, sooner or later.
Now he just had to rush the men back to Chevalerie so he could lock her in a room for a few days and take her up on that invitation.
Later that week, Duchess Laure paced around the sitting room. Michel had been trying to calm her while her husband sat behind his desk with his head resting on his hand.
“Bleu,” Guillaume said, tapping the tip of a quill pen across a page, making nothing more than a mess. “Please don’t worry. The Marquis has been neutralized. There is no more danger.”
“I shall continue to worry until everyone is safe under my roof and done with this terrible debacle. And all those prisoners with whom they are traveling? How can you say there will be no more danger?” She paced to the large window at the other end of the room.
“Laure, we knew that there could be danger,” the duke said as he placed the quill back in the ink and left it there. “I wouldn’t have sent Philippe in the first place if I thought it would be too much.”
Once Michel had been dispatched to help Philippe undertake all the trouble that had come to him, Laure had become sick. Her cool composure for her husband’s sake had begun to splinter. Two of her boys were now out fighting this foe who, as they had learned, was the Marquis himself.
Everyone kept hushing her and telling her that everything would be okay. Though in her heart she knew that Philippe was alright, she wouldn’t sit comfortably again until she could hug him for herself.
This life with her sons fighting all over the place and defending the kingdom wore on her. On days like this she wished to relinquish everything, take all of her family, and go live safely in a cave somewhere.
“I still don’t understand why you didn’t bring Alex home with you,” she bristled at Michel.
Michel stared daftly at her for a moment. “Uh, Mother, I believe she was free to make her own decision on that one.”
Laure sank herself into the couch. “You’re right, darling. I’m sorry. I just don’t see why they are not home yet. They should have been here by now.”
“Perhaps they took an extra night and stayed at one of the inns rather than make camp,” he shrugged.
“Why would they do that?” she asked, both perplexed and frustrated.
Michel and Guillaume exchanged a look. Michel cleared his throat.
“Philippe and Alex?” Laure said, looking between them. “You don’t mean…”
Her words were cut off as the footman outside began calling for help with the incoming party.
Attendants whizzed by the doorway to the sitting room.
The three looked at each other for a moment and then rushed to the front of the palace.
The gates at the far end were opened and a cloud of dust rose on the road.
Laure stepped out, farther from the steps of her home, to identify the riders.
She raised her hand to her eyes to shield them from the sun.
As they got closer, she felt her heart go light.
It was Philippe indeed, returning home. She scanned the riders and saw Alex by his side.
They looked road-worn but as they approached, she could see that they were both beaming.
Laure smiled back and stood in the sun, waiting for them to reach the steps.
“See Mother,” said Michel, “I told you they were fine.”
“I had to see it for myself.”
“Hurry up, Brother,” Michel called when they were in range. “Mother is anxious to have you home.”
Philippe rode to them, the horses kicking dust high up into the air. “She is not the only one anxious to have me home.” Philippe grinned. He settled his horse and jumped off, as the men behind him began to do the same. He hugged Laure as soon as he was steady on his feet.
“I was so worried about you and this company,” she said.
“I am safe,” he said warmly. “Though I admit it became a little more involved than we imagined it would.”
She let him go so he could embrace his brother and father before Laure grabbed him again for another hug.
“Mother, I was fine,” he laughed. “I believe your anxiety was made worse because of my companion on this journey.”
With that he turned and took Alex’s hand as she dismounted her horse. To Laure’s delight, she saw that he didn’t let it go.
Laure reached forward and hugged Alex around the neck. She was the same wild-haired creature that Laure had always loved, but Alex had a whole new essence about her. The restlessness was gone, Laure could see. She brushed a lock of hair away from Alex’s face and welcomed her back to the palace.
“Mother,” Philippe said after a moment.
“Yes dear,” Laure replied, squeezing Alex’s shoulders once more before turning to her son.
“Alex and I have something to tell you.” They glanced at each other.
Laure stepped back and looked at the two of them.
She couldn’t have been happier at the match.
It had been a long time in the making, but she’d always known, somewhere deep down, that these two would end up together.
They looked so happy, hands enlaced. Philippe was handsome and held himself with pride.
He looked more pleased with himself than she had seen him in years.
And Alex had a softness about her that had disappeared in her youth.
She was smiling, grinning, just like a young woman her age should be doing.
Laure felt the happiness well up inside her until she had to dab at her eyes.
Michel reached out and handed her a handkerchief.
She accepted. They would be perfect together, she thought. Simply perfect.
“Well let’s get inside so you can wash up. I’m sure whatever news you have, it will be wonderful,” she said.
But the revelry was broken. Her husband, she realized, had not yet had his say.
“Hold on a second,” said the Duke, stepping forward. “I am happy to see you home safely son, but we have some things to discuss before we can put this mission to rest.”