Chapter Fourteen
The news from his contact on Elba worried Will.
What in God’s name had possessed the British to exile Bonaparte to the island of Elba and allow him to rule it as a principality?
He had established a miniature court on the island and, while his second wife, Marie Louise, had refused to accompany him, his Polish mistress was known to have been there, despite the attempt to shroud her visit in secrecy.
The comings and goings of a mistress were irrelevant, but if Napoleon could quietly bring her onto the island, was he also bringing others, someone with whom he could plot his return to the throne of France? That in itself should be enough to concern the British government.
In addition, it was worrying that Bonaparte did not behave as though his time of greatness had passed.
He publicly claimed to be a “dead man”, but as the ruler of Elba, he had the right to raise a military force to protect the island.
Will’s contact on the island had discovered that this force now stood at around two thousand men, in addition to six hundred imperial troops and a small navy.
The building up of an army was not the action of a defeated man.
“Pure arrogant stupidity.” The comment exploded out of Will. Anger fought with his usual caution, but he ruthlessly subdued the urge to do more than bang his fist on the table, surprising his contact, who glanced around the tavern where they were meeting.
Seeing no unusual attention paid to Will’s outburst, Pietro raised his hands and shrugged. “I know what Boney’s new army means. I thought much about it as I sailed from Elba to Marseille and rode north to bring you the latest news and figures.”
Will had never had to fight so hard to contain his frustration. “On the face of it, his army and navy are not big, but the groundswell of support for him could add thousands more if he were to escape. I have to get this information to London as soon as possible.”
“You must. I don’t know if Sir Neil Campbell has been successful in dispatching his letters to London.
There is little respect for diplomatic rights, and I suspect his correspondence has been intercepted, but your government must hear soon what the little emperor is planning, or he will return!
It falls to you, Guy. You must get word to England. ”
Keeping his voice low, Will leaned forward. “You’ve brought me the evidence; he’s building another army. What’s to stop him returning to France and kicking this Bourbon Louis off the throne?”
“Do you believe it can happen?” Pietro now lived on Elba, but not even the sounds of mangled French thickened by his native Sicilian mother tongue could conceal his fear.
“He’s almost bled the citizens of Elba dry to pay for his court and building up his forces.
Most of us do not wish the little emperor back on the throne of France, even for the welcome relief his absence would bring us. ”
“I think anything is possible with such a man.” No wonder Will had been forced to continue gathering intelligence after Boney’s defeat and exile. The threat of a coup was real. It had to be, or why else would the little emperor be amassing such beginnings of another army during his exile?
Exile!
Will would have laughed at the idea if it wasn’t the reason for his continued separation from Clem.
“I think the English are arrogant enough to believe that forcing a man from whom they have stripped both throne and power to sign a treaty means he has given up. The man who led French troops to battle in Egypt and Russia and in so many other battles is not a man who accepts defeat. He goes on fighting for what he believes is rightfully his. From what you’ve told me, I believe Napoleon is regrouping.
The next few months will be critical. Expand your contacts and send word at any hint of movement off Elba. ”
As he rode away from his meeting back toward Bonneville, Will turned over the information Pietro had shared.
It seemed clear to him that Bonaparte was biding his time while rebuilding his armed forces.
Did Sir Neil Campbell, a military man and the unofficial British envoy on Elba, view the situation in a similar light? Had his warnings reached London?
As Will ate a quick meal while his foam-flecked horse was exchanged for another, he listened to the men in the taproom. They despised the Bourbon restoration. Support for Louis was thin on the ground.
Not so for Bonaparte. His return would be welcomed with open arms and the taking up of arms again.
Wearily, Will climbed back into the saddle and turned north, more certain than ever that they hadn’t seen the last of the little emperor.
London
Rich red, sunny yellow and wine-dark purple leaves fluttered to the ground around Clem, where she sat in the rear garden of their London home.
Rain had fallen in the night, and the scent of damp earth and plants rose around her.
The late autumn sun glinted on raindrops sitting like diamonds on the leaves.
Despite the coolness in the air, it was pleasant out of doors. Few such days remained before the chill of winter descended on them.
Nearly a year had passed since Will’s almost-proposal. By now, Clem had imagined they would be married and perhaps have a child on the way, a miniature version of Will.
Dropping her book on the bench, she jumped to her feet, tired of waiting, tired of not knowing where Will was.
She was tired of not being his wife with the right to see his dear face across the breakfast table each morning, while the only man who might tell her where Will was had not been near her for days.
Lord Hetherington had stopped pursuing her. Papa had been tight-lipped about the reason for his abrupt disappearance from society, saying only that he had heard estate matters required his attention. Clem suspected Rufus had more to do with the baron’s situation than estate matters.
But that was the problem. She didn’t know, and he had not visited, and now Mama was singing the praises of Viscount Mersey, recently widowed and with three small children in need of a new mother.
After three seasons, numerous offers of marriage and as many refusals, and with an earl who had so far escaped her mother’s best attempts to secure his hand, were her parents becoming so desperate that they would marry her to a widower?
Had they given up the quest to marry her to an earl or a marquis or a viscount like her father?
Where was Will?
More to the point, where had Rufus disappeared to? At their last meeting a couple of weeks earlier, he had seemed distracted, and fear gripped her heart. Had there been bad news of Will?
But after a year of friendship, Clem knew Rufus well enough to know he would not keep any news from her, not even bad news.
But something was wrong, and Rufus’s absence left her feeling anxious and besieged.
“Clementine?” Her mother’s voice broke through the thoughts whirlpooling in her brain.
Jumping to her feet, she smoothed down her dress and stepped into view. “I’m here, Mama.”
“You have a visitor—Lord Marsden is here.”
Finally!
It occurred to Clem that Rufus’s recent visits had elicited less enthusiasm from her mother as the lack of an offer for her daughter continued. Certainly, her voice had lost its hopeful, higher pitch and breathy expectation.
Briefly, Clem felt a moment of compassion for her mother’s efforts on her behalf, but she needed answers.
“I’m coming.” Surprised to find that her skin felt chilled, she picked up the book she had carried outside and left unopened and ran toward the house.
Rufus was in the parlor, hands outstretched towards a cheerful fire. He turned at the sound of her footsteps entering the room and offered the brief bow of a friend. “Clem, you look well. The autumn air becomes you.”
Clem bobbed a quick curtsy and hastened toward him. “Thank you, Rufus.”
Mama stood with her hand on the door, and Clem noted her white knuckles. Surely her mother was not considering leaving them unsupervised and closing it?
“I must speak briefly with your father, Clementine. Ring the bell and order tea and biscuits, will you? Excuse me, Lord Marsden. I will be only a moment.” She departed, leaving the door open, but Clem sensed her choice had been a near-run thing.
“What news, Rufus?”
“To answer your usual question: no news directly from Will, but the news out of France is worrying.”
“Is Will in danger?”
“No more than usual.”
“But he is in France.”
Rufus met her eyes. A muscle ticked in his cheek, and then he gave a single nod.
“In all this time, that’s the first actual confirmation you’ve given me of his whereabouts. So, what is the news from France that worries you?”
“Political and social. Do you really want to know?”
“Tell me.”
“Briefly then, the shrinkage of the empire back to the old borders is causing a lot of dissatisfaction amongst Frenchmen. They see land gained under Napoleon’s leadership being returned to other countries, and they don’t like it.
And there are stories of poor treatment of returning soldiers of Napoleon’s Grande Armée.
The royalist nobility, when they return to their properties, are treating their people badly, and conditions are deteriorating.
There is much infighting within the Congress of Vienna.
Every country is tired of war, but then they make moves that will drag all of us back into another one. ”
Rufus looked more tired than she’d ever known him to be, and it occurred to Clem that victory over Napoleon and his subsequent exile was not the neat and complete end to his reign she had imagined it to be.
Touching Rufus’s arm, she said, “Come and sit down. Would you prefer a brandy to tea?” When he sat, she moved to the bell pull and tugged.
“Brandy, thank you. Clem, I swear I thought we could bring Will home soon, but this latest news makes it impossible. I’m sorry.”
Her hands rose without her conscious direction, one pressing against her stomach, the other, over her sad, lonely heart. “Oh, Will, when will I see you again?”
“I’m sorry,” Rufus repeated. “If it were in my power to bring him home now, I would.”
“I know.” She sat beside him and looked at her clasped hands. “Mama is pressing the suit of Viscount Mersey now. I feel she is becoming desperate to see me engaged, if not wed, before the next Season begins.”
“Mersey? He was widowed recently, I believe, wasn’t he?”
“So Mama said. Four months ago, I think. He has three young children and is looking for a new wife to mother them.”
Rufus nodded his understanding. “Leave it with me. I can fix it.”