Broken Legacy (Secret Lives Series) (9 page)

Yet within her slowly surged rebellion. If she could not help her Rosabel, she would not turn her back upon others in need
, regardless of whom they were or the danger to her own person. No, her life was not her own. She only existed.

Since her father claimed her as his own, she had not turned from her French family.
Her father had assumed she would have had no more contact, but her father did not know her well. No, not at all. Instead, with her actions, she had seen well to their needs. In secret. Always in secret. The legacy that Luc had left for her, she used to benefit those in need. Her family’s need for money; other’s need for freedom and life.

Luc would have never wanted this, death and destruction as it was now. Luc had been a dreamer. When she had been with him, she dreamed
, too. Dreamed of a life away from all that encompassed them, a life far away where one’s birth was of no matter. America! Where years before Luc and Marc Pierre’s father had lost his life in the fight for their independence. But it was never to be…

“Ah, Lady Granville,” a voice bellowed over the wind. “It is good you
, too, are early. The tide is turning.”

“Then prepare,” Eloise answered, tying the bandana tighter around her head. The slippers she carried in her hand she bent down and placed over her feet. She walked soundly to the rowboat sitting in wait for her. “I take all went as planned.”

“Delivered seven safely to Monsieur Bolton at our assigned designation. And all settled before we left.”

“That is well. We can’t have an episode as happened before. I was seen and recognized. The silence cost me, Captain Moreau. You realize the consequences if discovered.”

“Absolutely, Lady Granville. I hope you were able to silence the…”

“It was taken care of, but it cost me. I have married. I’m Lady
Lenister,” she said soundly, entering the boat. “We have to be more careful. I beg you, Captain. Do not take all lightly.”

“Aye, you are coming across
, I see. You haven’t crossed in weeks. It is bad?”

“I’m on a different mission, Captain. It will take time and I don’t know how much. Until then, I believe we will have to put all on hold until my return.”

“If you insist.”

“I do, Captain. You will wait on my orders before your next voyage across. Is that clear?”

“As always,” Captain Moreau replied in his thick, heavy accent. “We await your command.”

* * * *

The midday sun bore down on Eloise. With each step, sweat began to trickle down her back. She wiped back her forehead. Captain Moreau offered to find her transportation after her arrival along the beach outside Calais, a small coastal town more than a hundred miles from Paris. She refused. She had walked the path numerous times in her youth.

The
captain had other concerns beyond her. His cargo needed to be delivered. Arriving undetected along the shoreline had become increasingly more difficult. Troops began to patrol with more frequency due to the fear of the enemies of the state escaping. The semblance of the government now sitting within Paris had made it of the utmost importance not to let any offender escape their justice.

The relief in the
captain's face upon her declaration to slow their voyages did not go undetected by Eloise. She had pressed him. In that, she realized to the point of recklessness. Captain Moreau would never refuse her. In this, Eloise comprehended well. Not after she rescued his family. So many more needed to be saved and so few willing to face the danger it would entail.

She took a trail on the outskirts of the town.
Calais, as opposed to most of the other provinces of France, had not felt the full effect of the Revolution only because their eyes lay across on England. The constant threat of an invasion never relented, but Eloise was under no illusions. The swift form of justice that the French Republic held was an invariable hazard if one aroused suspicion of any sort.

Justice reigned down quickly with only an accusation made, no substantiation, no validation needed. France
, without a doubt within Eloise’s mind, was ruled by the angriest of passions that had exploded, with all feeling the full force of that passion. Contumacious individuals from the days prior to the Reign of Terror now led the masses.

The simple minded, the ones
who had starved and had been treated with prejudice, allowed themselves to be seduced by the promise of rectifying the wrongs of bygone days. The problem lay with replacing one reign of horror with a reign now of unspeakable terror, where if the truth be known, no one was safe, for at any given time the tide could turn against anyone. This alone caused for the unmerited deaths of many innocents.

Plotting and enlisting a list of suspects had become an obsession. The Republic had set up many Committees of Public Safety
across France to handle these supposed threats. Heading these departments with dissident people, proud and high minded, but not wise. No, Eloise thought, wisdom had little to do with anyone’s actions in France as of late. Most spurned used the full force of their disdainful hate.

Calais, spared a portion of this explosion, hushed down the irritation. Mainly, Eloise believed, because the poverty and starvation widespread in France had not been
experienced as it was across the rest of the countryside. In turn, the leaders produced a softer report.

Her family held positions in Calais, but that in
turn wielded little power in Paris. She held little doubt within her that Lenister understood their position. If she allowed, gnawing doubts surfaced that Lenister wanted, needed, her to wield influence over Marc Pierre Bernard. Influence? She questioned whether Marc Pierre wanted ever to see her face again, not after their last encounter.

She walked down the lane from the village. The landscape showed none of the evidence of the turmoil encompassing its people. The grass swelled in its greenery with a warm ocean breeze. Wildflowers bloomed on the side of the road with birds chirping in song. She breathed in deeply. This she needed. A smile emerged on her face when she rounded the bend.

The house was pleasant and isolated because of the trees that surrounded it. A quaint old cottage lay before her where the trees fell away in front of a small garden. She strolled up slowly where a grapevine hung over some old wooden chairs. An elderly lady with a head full of gray hair pulled back in a tight bun hidden by a large floppy hat sat on the ground, weeding the vegetables that had sprung to life with the call of the spring. Dressed in an old ragged dress, her dry, wrinkled hands showed signs of the years of hard work she had performed. Her knees were beneath her, but Eloise knew well the lady was tall and lean in appearance.

“
Nana Adele,” she said simply, but tenderness oozed from her tone.

The old woman’s head rose to the sound of her name. Immediately, a large smile greeted her
ward. “Eloise.”

Eloise reached down and gripped tight
ly her nanny’s hand, pulling her upward in a warm embrace. “Oh, Nana Adele, I have missed you so.”

“My dear, my dear,”
Nana Adele said. Her hand stretched to touch Eloise’s face and her hair, as if seeing if all real.

“You have come.” Suddenly, she paused. “What is wrong?”

“So it seems you live in a quandary, my dear. What do you plan
to do?”

Nana Adele
sat across from her in the tiny kitchen at the rickety table where the two had retreated to converse. Eloise leaned forward, pushing the glass of water away from her.

“It is why I’m here,
Nana Adele. I need advice and know of no other I can trust.”

The old woman rubbed her tired eyes. “I told you before you began this venture that all would be more
complicated than you believed.” She shook her head. “You should not have married the man, Eloise. All was within your grasp.”

“Do not come back on me,
Nana Adele. Do you not know I comprehend well my mistake? I had no time to plot or plan. I had to keep all quiet. There was no other way.”

“Does he know?”

“Some, I suspect. I’m not a fool, Nana Adele. I know he is playing me, but I’ve made up my mind.”

“Because of his children. Because he loves his children
, no matter if they’re illegitimate. You have let your emotions get the best of you and are liable to lose all you have.”

Eloise wiped back a fallen tear. She said in a low voice, “It was not mine to begin with. For once
, I’m going to do what is right in this craziness. I only wanted you to know before.”

“What? Guilt? Over what, Eloise
?” Nana Adele’s old hand gripped tightly to Eloise. “You have done nothing wrong. You have been insane in your attempts to right all the wrongs you felt you have been connected to for some reason. Marguerite was your mother, child. She wanted more for you than to be known as a bastard. You know all she did to align that you were legitimate. Is that not what your uncle told you? She did all to give you to you what you deserved.”

“Deserve?
Nana Adele, my father never wanted me. You told me he loved Mama dearly and couldn’t bear her loss. I played along after learning the truth about my birth because I thought he loved her, but I suspect it was just the opposite.” She choked up. “I feel I have been used as a pawn by one or another since I was born. Do you not think I cannot decipher that my father would not have left me in the midst of all the turmoil surrounding my birth if I was truly legitimate? I have suspected I am the bastard that all have whispered behind my back. I know…I know that there was some paper that said that my father married my mother…that suggested I was legitimate.

“I believe it is what Uncle Orville used to get my father to save me. My father did so with only the greatest reluctance. To avoid a scandal.
Heaven Forbid that an honorable gentleman would let his daughter die without lifting a hand to save her!
But with the action, he had no choice but to say I was his legitimate daughter. I have no doubt that Uncle Orville held something over my father’s head. But it was not his love for my poor mother.
Non
, it was not love.”

“If you are looking for me to beg forgiveness
that I held back what I suspected, Eloise, don’t look long,” Nana Adele said forcibly. “What did you want me to do? I have always fought for what was best for you. You are my daughter. You.”

“I know,
Nana Adele. I know. And I love you dearly for all you have done. But all is catching up with me. I can’t do this. I care too much. Edmund and Susanna have shown me nothing but kindness. I can’t do this to them. I don’t need my inheritance now. My husband is rich. That I know is true. He won’t need my inheritance…”

“Oh, child, child!”
Nana Adele interrupted. “Do you not know the man knows? Do not blind yourself to the knowledge in front of your eyes. How quick did he marry you! No, he has to know. You have long been intelligent in your play. As soon as he has his children, his old mistress, do you not think for one moment he won’t have your marriage annulled due to fraud! And you will have nothing!”

Eloise stared in silence at her
Nana Adele. “
Non, non
, he wouldn’t do that. You don’t know him…”

“Because he whispered loving words in your ears, made love to you. You, Eloise, are reaching out for the past. He is not Luc!”

Eloise rose abruptly, pushing back her chair until it fell. She cried, “I know well he isn’t Luc!”

Her hands went over her face. She backed up against the wall and slid down
onto the floor. Nana Adele fell beside her and took Eloise in her arms.

“Do not let Luc die in vain. He died protecting you. Remember that. You can’t go to Paris. If your husband has found information, others will question and then
what if your association with the Victome de Colognac becomes known... You would be endangered in Paris.”

“There is no proof.”

“They need nothing more than someone to accuse. Did you not hear what they did to Princess de Lamballe?”

Eloise shuddered. She had well heard. All of England had heard and been repulsed. She composed herself. “I could plead well for those children,
Nana Adele. This you know. It is their only chance.”

“Oh, Eloise. It’s too dangerous. You don’t know. One minute they would hail you a hero, the next Madame Guillotine is descending downward.”

Eloise took the hand of the woman who raised her as her own in hers. “I’m not scared of death, Nana Adele. I haven’t been since the night I held Luc in my arms as the blood drained from his body. I haven’t lived since that night. That person died that night with Luc. I survived, yes, but lived, not until Gerard…

“Yes,
Nana Adele, I have fallen in love with a man I know does not love me, but he will not abandon me. That I do believe and if I can save his children for him, I will. I know that you would do the same, for this was how you raised me.”

Tears burst forth
from the woman to the point where Nana Adele barely uttered her words. “Eloise, Eloise, I beg you not to do this. You are the reason I live…”