Chapter 13
“Estelle, are you sure you won’t eat anything? You had no breakfast. A bite of apple? A sliver of cheese?”
Estelle shook her head at Linette and went back to staring blindly out the carriage window.
The castle was long gone from her view now. Was it only a week since she’d arrived there brimming with such excitement to see Valentin again?
Her heartache so intense that she found it difficult to breathe, let alone think of eating, she closed her eyes and tried not to think about the look on his face when she had left him with barely a kiss earlier that morning.
Yet if she had lingered any longer, she might have agreed that he leave his country, his people, and accompany her to Cornwall.
Why not be selfish to keep the man she loved more than life by her side? Would it have been so wrong? Valentin had wanted to come with her! She had seen it written all over his face and blazing in his eyes!
Estelle sighed, the sharp prick of her conscience answer enough that she could never have lived with herself, just as she’d told him.
They were star-crossed lovers, destined to remain apart, her one consolation that she and Valentin had spent an impassioned night together that she would never forget.
She blushed even now so heatedly that she lowered her head and stared at the forest green skirt of her traveling gown so Adam and Linette wouldn’t notice.
She still couldn’t believe she had made it back to her room without them discovering anything was amiss, Mattie curled up and sleeping peacefully beneath the covers.
Estelle had apologized profusely and told Mattie that she was forever in her debt, but the young woman had only smiled with genuine kindness and quickly changed back into her own clothing.
The only embarrassment had been the two guards at the front doors to Valentin’s private apartment, but she had ducked her head and passed by them with Robert steering her by the elbow.
He had assured her as they made their way down the stairs that the men were sworn to loyal silence about Valentin’s private matters—yet she didn’t truly care anyway.
If the night she and Valentin had spent together made her a fallen woman, she would wear that badge unapologetically. In a few months’ time she would know for sure if she carried his child, but for now, it would be their treasured secret.
Again, she closed her eyes, remembering how the servants she, Linette, and Adam had passed in the castle as they made their way to the waiting carriages had looked upon her with pity.
Even Madame Faucher, the head housekeeper who had packed them a basket of food for the journey and had accompanied them outside, had gripped Estelle’s hands warmly in goodbye, the older woman’s eyes welling.
Clearly, news of the terrible confrontation at the ball had flown through the castle staff and into town, and probably throughout Bratavia.
As the carriages had rumbled through the streets, first Estelle’s and then the one carrying their servants and the royal representative Louis, who was escorting them back to Calais, townspeople had come out of their homes and shops to watch them pass by, many appearing angry.
She could not forget the emotional homage paid to Valentin on the day of his coronation, his people well aware of the horror he and his father had suffered at the hands of Henri Chevalier and his son, Gaston.
Surely the citizens of Bratavia wanted nothing more than his happiness, thwarted now as the woman he had chosen for his wife was on her way to board a ship bound for England, never to return—oh, God.
Estelle shook her head sadly, trying as hard as she could not to burst into futile tears.
The only other people who had seen them off besides Madame Faucher had been the footmen waiting to assist them, though Estelle had sensed Valentin’s presence as surely as if he stood there, too.
She had wanted to glance up to see if he stood at a window watching their departure, but the thought of seeing the anguish in his eyes had been too much for her to bear.
Just as the incessant sound of clattering carriage wheels carrying her further away from the man she loved was too much to bear.
Had Princess Hortense already arrived to insist Valentin must choose a bride from among the three young women who had probably stood at the castle windows, too? Smiling and laughing and pointing at her—
“Estelle, you must try not to torment yourself so,” Linette pleaded with her as if reading her mind. Her sister glanced at her husband, Adam’s face as somber as Estelle had seen it, though he bore an air of helplessness, too.
And something else…the raw compassion in his eyes as he met Estelle’s gaze telling her that he knew full well where she had gone last night, and didn’t fault her for it.
Linette, either, her sister jumping up from her seat next to Adam to the opposite side of the carriage, where she enfolded Estelle in her arms.
“It will be all right, Estelle! Surely in time, everything will be all right.”
Estelle couldn’t speak, shaking her head against Linette’s shoulder.
How could anything ever be right again when her terrible dream from a few nights before had come true?
“My lord, is there anything I can bring you?”
Valentin didn’t answer Robert, but sat motionless in front of the cold fireplace in the drawing room.
Since yesterday, he had allowed no one to add more wood and stoke the fire and now nothing was left beneath the iron grate but dead ashes.
Which suited the desolation he felt perfectly.
Estelle had left the castle nearly a half hour ago, her departure the worst moment of his life.
And still the tall grandfather clock in the corner of the room continued to taunt him, each tick taking Estelle further away from him. God help him, how would life ever make sense again without her?
“If anyone comes by, Robert, tell them I wish not to be disturbed. That especially goes for Hortense.”
“I understand, my lord.” As if realizing there was nothing more he could say or do, Robert quietly excused himself and left the room.
Which suited Valentin perfectly, too.
He needed to be alone, the overwhelming impotence he felt melded with hopelessness close to choking him.
To think there was nothing he could have done to alter the hated course his half-sister had set him upon—nothing!
He was surprised she hadn’t come knocking upon his door already to insist that he must select a bride at once.
What could be keeping her? She had never been reluctant about pressing her demands before—
“My lord, forgive me, but you have a visitor.”
Hortense! Cursing under his breath, Valentin lunged from the chair to face Robert, who stood in the doorway. “I said I didn’t want to be disturbed.”
“I know, but the guards opened the doors before I could stop them. He’s waiting just outside.”
“He?” Startled that his visitor wasn’t his half-sister, Valentin strode toward the door. “A member of my privy council? I’ll tell him myself that I don’t wish to see anyone—”
“Please, Valentin, I must speak with you!” came a familiar voice as his brother-in-law, Edward Bertrand, pushed his way past Robert to enter the room.
His bald pate as red as his face, the baron clearly had come in quite a hurry as he fought to catch his breath.
“It’s of the utmost importance, you must hear me! ”
Valentin had stopped short and stared at Edward, who pulled a handkerchief from his waistcoat pocket to mop his damp brow.
He couldn’t remember a single occasion when his brother-in-law had come to his private apartment to discuss anything with him.
Clearly the man was distressed, which made Valentin gesture to a nearby chair, but Edward shook his head.
“I saw Miss Easton’s carriage pass by my home, Valentin, I’m so sorry. So truly sorry! I have so much to answer for…so much for which I must ask your forgiveness.”
“So much to answer for?” Valentin demanded, though a niggling of intuition gripped him as Edward bowed his head as if in contrition.
“While you were imprisoned, I knew what was happening and I did nothing to help you! Hortense and I were already under house arrest. I feared our situation would only grow worse if I spoke up, and I’d lose everything, my wealth, my home—ah, God, forgive me, Valentin!
So I stood by and said nothing, but no more. No more!”
Weeping now, his face flushed with anguish, Edward wrung the handkerchief while he rushed on.
“I know of only one way to make amends and that’s to tell you all.
Hortense paid that footman to spy upon you and Miss Easton.
Bastion’s his name. She’s given him refuge in our cellar until the search dies down—”
“I already suspected as much about Hortense,” Valentin broke in, stunned that the baron would so readily implicate his wife...but then again, perhaps he wasn’t so surprised. “I’ll send soldiers to apprehend Bastion so he can be questioned, though he’s committed no punishable crime.”
“Thank God it hadn’t yet come to that!”
Valentin went very still, staring intently at Edward. “What are you saying?”
“Hortense saw Miss Easton, too, from our dining room window—we had just sat down to breakfast. I’ve never seen her so elated.
She got up at once and I sensed she was going to the cellar so I followed her.
I stood at the top of the steps and heard her say to Bastion that she was finally rid of Miss Easton and there was no longer any need to take things further, and that he must leave town at once.
I knew how much she disliked Miss Easton for interfering with her plans, but never that she intended to do her harm! ”
Sickened by this revelation as Edward began to weep in earnest, babbling apologies, Valentin was already striding to the door. He needed to call for his soldiers to apprehend that footman before he could flee, as a witness against his half-sister! Yet Edward stumbled after him and grabbed his arm.
“Those two aren’t going anywhere, Valentin, I locked them in the cellar and told the servants not to dare open the door. But what I’ve told you isn’t all of it—”
“Dammit, man, what else could there be?” Valentin had spun around to roar so vehemently at Edward that he heard the front doors to his private apartment slam open and the sound of his guards’ boots running toward the drawing room. “Speak!”
Wide-eyed, Edward blurted, “Princess Ophelia’s family promised Hortense a huge sum in gold if their daughter became your bride, and so did the families of Lady Ingrid and Countess Alicia, though none of them know she made the same agreement with the others.
It didn’t matter to her which one married you, only that it wasn’t Miss Easton.
God forgive me, all the wealth I preserved by my cowardice wasn’t enough to satisfy her… ”
Suddenly turned pale as if overwhelmed by the depth of his complicity, Edward sank into a chair while Valentin turned to the grim-faced guards who had appeared at the door.
“Summon my privy council!” he ordered the first, while to the second, “Send soldiers to the baron’s home to escort Princess Hortense and her accomplice without delay to the council room. Tell the men they’ll find them locked in the cellar.”
As the two guards rushed from the room, Valentin turned to his valet, who still stood by the door looking wholly astonished by everything that had taken place. “Robert, I believe the baron could use a brandy.”
Robert nodded and hastened to oblige him, while Valentin went to where his brother-in-law sat so forlornly, and clasped his shoulder.
“You’ve my thanks,” he said simply, his judgment that Edward had suffered enough married to his half-sister more solidified than ever. “And my forgiveness. If you’d spoken up to my uncle, you might have found yourself thrown into the dungeon, too. It was a brutal time for all of us—”
“Valentin, you must go after her!” As if he hadn’t heard anything Valentin had said, the baron rose shakily to his feet.
“Miss Easton was so kind to me, a lovely girl. She didn’t deserve what happened to her and neither did you.
Surely your privy council will alter its decision to bar you from marrying her once they know the treachery behind my wife’s actions—and if not, you must bring the matter before your people and let them judge! ”
Swallowing hard, Valentin nodded, the hopelessness that had gripped him fast fading.
All he needed was for Bastion to confess in front of his privy council to what Edward had told him—
“My lord, a brandy for you as well,” Robert said, handing him a brimming glass and another to Edward. “Something tells me that a celebration is in order…and soon, a very fast horse.”