The Heroic Baron (18 page)

Cecile lowered her eyes at the compliment. “I’ll always be that girl, Alain.” She said quietly. “Etiquette
and satins are nothing more than window dressing.”

“Yes, and thank goodness for that. I will always love
the girl I met in Paris who was poor but wouldn’t take
money to inform on her neighbors.”

Alain reached for the decanter of wine to refill her
goblet.

Cecile waved him off. “No, one glass is all I want”

“Very well,” Alain replaced the decanter on the table.
Silence stretched between them. Alain cleared his throat,
his voice low and quiet when he spoke again. “Cecile,
may I ask what happened that night in Le Havre?”

It was a difficult question, but Cecile knew there would be one more question tonight that would be even
more difficult to answer. “I was arrested in Le Havre” It
would be easier to tell the tale without looking at Alain,
but she knew she had to see every reaction on his face.

“To my credit, I led them a merry chase, as the English would say. I kept them hunting me long enough
for you to get underway and to safety, which was my
goal, my only goal. I couldn’t bear the thought of
everyone suffering when I could prevent it. Of all of us,
I had the best chance of surviving such an arrest. I had
men who admired me, for whatever reason, in high
places. Even in the group of soldiers on the wharf,
there was one who had courted me in hopes of favors”

Alain’s emerald eyes flared. His hand played idly
with the stem of his goblet. “I wouldn’t have had you
buy my freedom with your body” A grim edge tinted
his voice.

“Then you’d have been a fool. A dead fool, and the
rest of us dead with you” Cecile said bluntly. “Before I
tell you what happened, let me tell you what I have
learned since we parted. My family’s motto was la
verite ou rien do you know it?

“The truth or nothing,” Alain translated.

“I learned the night I lied for you at the general’s that
truth has its place but its place is not absolute, not when
it means death for good people. My father never
learned that and it got him an early grave. I learned I
had power of my own if I would just seize it. Until Le
Havre, I had lived my life as a victim. I didn’t realize it
at the time, but I’d spent the years since my parents’
deaths believing I could not change the world. It didn’t
matter if Napoleon was in power or if a king sat on a throne. I realize now that I just had to change myself. I
can’t change the world, but I can mold myself to better
face its challenges and in some small way, I might
change the world a little. You helped me see that, and
Le Havre proved it.

“Yes, I spent unpleasant months under house arrest
at General Motrineau’s, not knowing my sentence. I
thought I was awaiting a trial, but in the end, word got
to General Motrineau and I was freed without a trial or
a sentence or any stigma on my name. I was free to go”

“Why did you not come to me?” Alain cried.

“Shh, Alain, mon cheri.” Cecile shook her head,
sensing the hurt he must feel. She had been alive and
he’d been mourning her all the while. “Let me explain.
I knew I had been pardoned without blemish in part because of the general’s influence but also in part because
there were people who still hoped to catch L’Un. They
still believed I knew who he was and where he was. If I
were free, I could lead them to him.” She seized Alain’s
hands. “Mon cheri, if I had come to you, they would
have hunted you down and I would have forfeited your
life all for the vanity of my love. I had no money so I
went to Nicholas Lupot and he took me on as an apprentice of sorts. It occupied my time and threw the circle of private citizens who wanted to see you dead off
your trail.” Cecile paused to let the import of her words
settle as waiters entered with raspberry trifle syllabub
with raspberry coulis and black currant almond tarte
topped with almond liqueur.

When they left, Cecile took a bite of the fluffy dessert.
“Now, tell me all about Etienne. Is my brother well?”

Talk of Etienne took the remainder of dessert and after dinner drinks. Cecile’s heart soared with Alain’s news of
Etienne’s success and education. Her brother was thriving and happy. It was all she could wish for him.

When the last of the dishes had been removed, they
rose and gathered their things. Alain swung his opera
cloak proficiently around his shoulders, and then proceeded to drape Cecile’s pelisse about her. His hands
brushed the bare skin of her shoulder and she trembled
at the intimate contact. A moment later, his lips pressed
against the sensitive pulse at her neck, his hands still
firm on her shoulders where the pelisse rested. She
arched against him until her head rested on his shoulder. What heaven it was to give into such temptation.

Gallantly, Alain handed her into a hired carriage.
They would be able to take the carriage together since
she had been fortunate enough to have a townhouse on
loan for the duration of her stay. The house was in a
quiet, respectable part of Belgravia, just blocks from
Alain’s own lodgings.

They spoke only small talk as the carriage carried
them across town. Alain pointed out sights of interest,
offering to take her sightseeing soon to see the famous
places up close. But underneath the quiet conversation,
something more lively sparked and jumped between
them. As the carriage drew to a halt, they risked one
more kiss.

Alain jumped down and handed her out of the carriage, holding her about the waist longer than necessary. “I will call for you at eleven tomorrow. It’s been a
remarkable evening, spent with a remarkable woman.”

Cecile bit her lip, uncertainly, hesitating for a mo ment. “Would you like to come in? Mrs. Brown will
have retired.”

Alain bent over her gloved hand and kissed it, palm
side up. “Oh yes, dearest. I want to come in,” he said in
low, intimate tones. “But I am a gentleman and you are
a lady of impeccable virtue. It would not be right.”

Cecile nodded. “Until tomorrow then”

Alain drew her close. “Tonight, Cecile, we talked of
the past. Tomorrow, we shall talk of the future, our future”

“I wish it were tomorrow already.” She gave him a
soft smile and fled into the house, completely aware of
the message burning in his eyes.

Alain watched her until she disappeared inside the
house. He paid the driver and dismissed him. He would
walk the blocks to his lodgings. The energy coursing
through him would not tolerate the confines of a carriage. His step was light and his heart jubilant as he set
out. Cecile was alive! Cecile loved him! Plans reeled
through his head in gleeful chaos. There would be letters to write. He’d need to post one immediately to Isabella and Tristan, who were rusticating in the country
with their new son. There was a wedding to plan. He
would marry her as quickly as it could be arranged. He
didn’t want a single second to go by without Cecile by
his side. There was much he wanted to show her, to do
with her, and much to amend for.

The only blot on his happy horizon was the knowledge that she had stayed away in order to protect him.
He should have gone back no matter the risk to his safety, no matter the minimal odds of success. If he had
gone, he might have found a way to rescue her and
spirit her off to England years earlier.

Alain firmly pushed the damnable “what ifs” aside.
He was going to claim happiness with both hands. His
life had started again after a three year hiatus and he was
anxious to live it. He laughed out loud to the night. He
was getting married! At last, Fate had smiled on him.

Alain discovered eleven o’clock was too long to wait
in spite of London protocol that suggested strongly that
a call could not be made earlier. He had risen early and
ridden straight to Lambeth Palace to roust the archbishop for a special license, not caring that the man had
just sat down to breakfast. By 10:30 he could wait no
longer. He pulled the curricle he’d borrowed from Tristan’s unused home in town up to Cecile’s residence and
bounded up the steps.

Mrs. Brown answered the door and gave him a
strong perusal with her knowing her eyes. “Miss Cecile
is waiting for you.” The dour woman gave a small smile
of approval.

Alain stepped into the foyer and laughed. Cecile was
just as anxious as he. She stood in the doorway of the
drawing room, making no pretense of having been
waiting for him. She was already outfitted in her gloves
and hat, ready to go the moment he arrived.

“I could not wait.” She gave a Gallic shrug of her
shoulders.

“Neither could I. At least I won’t have to apologize
for being early.” Alain strode to her side and warmly
kissed her cheek, aware that to dare more would earn
Mrs. Brown’s disapproval.

The day was warm, sprinkled with a spring breeze,
the perfect day for a drive through Hyde Park. They
drove leisurely, Cecile’s arm tucked through his while
they tooled the paths, stopping every so often for introductions. Alain was proud to introduce the vibrant
beauty at his side to those they met, and Cecile was
pleasant and friendly to everyone as if she’d known
them for ages.

“What a perfect day!” Cecile exclaimed when they’d
left the last of the carriages behind on the verge.

“It could be like this always.” Alain tempted, turning
the curricle towards Rutledge Pond. Alain smiled at
her, his green eyes confident and merry. “I’ve planned a
picnic for us” He parked the curricle beneath a spreading tree and jumped down to help Cecile. “I have all
your favorites. I believe you mentioned wine and
cheese last night.” Alain teased, his hands at her waist
reveling at the feel of her slim form beneath the blue
muslin.

“And bread. I did mention bread too.” Cecile teased
in return, crying out girlishly when Alain gave her a
playful twirl before setting her down.

Alain knew he should resist. They were in a public
place where anyone might spy them, but the spring day
and his own heady euphoria overrode his better judgment. Cecile looked far too beautiful in her blue gown with its white lace, her bonnet falling back to reveal her
chestnut hair, thick and lustrous in the sun. “I love you”
He whispered for her alone before he bent to claim her
lips in a deep kiss, uncaring of who might see this public declaration of affection for the woman who would
be his wife.

Together they spread the picnic blanket on the grass
and set out the food. Alain poured the wine. Cecile cut
the crusty bread he’d bought fresh that morning. She
popped a morsel into her mouth and chewed it speculatively. “Hmm. It’s good enough for city fare” She offered. “I will make you real country bread”

Alain laughed at that. His mother, gracious lady
that she was, would not have been caught baking
bread for her baron. In fact, he doubted any of the
Wickham baronesses baked bread. But his would.
None of the barons had ever built a seaside resort either. He and Cecile would make their own trends.
They were part of the new world he envisioned where
class didn’t bar anyone from opportunities. “I can
hardly wait for your bread, but the Panchettes might
feel you offer competition.” Alain remarked, taking a
thick slice from Cecile.

“The Panchettes! How are they? How good it will be
to see them again.”

“They are well and thriving.” Alain proceeded to
regale her with tales of French families in Hythe, of
the Panchettes and their tea house, of the fabulous
desserts their cousin made up at The Refuge for him
nightly.

He leaned back on the blanket, hands behind his
head, utterly content from the wine, the bread, and Ce cile’s laughter over his stories of Hythe. A man could
be happy forever living on such simple pleasures. “I
can hardly wait for you to be there with me, to see it at
last” He was about to reach for her when a shrill voice
broke their idyll.

“Dear Wickham, how good to see you!” She cooed
from her seat in her carriage up on the pathway where
she was surrounded by a coterie of matrons in similar
vehicles, some of them accompanied by moonstruck
young daughters who openly ogled him with embarrassing frankness.

He tossed Cecile a covert look of annoyance but
once acknowledged, he had no choice except to rise
and greet the woman. “Good day, Lady Halverston.
Ladies.” He offered a hand to Cecile and helped her
rise. He led her to the verge, ready to make introductions, but Lady Halverston didn’t let him get a word
in before she started rambling. He expected the old
biddy had suspicions about Cecile’s presence and
what it foretold. Her prattle was an attempt to waylay
news she would find most unpleasant. Of all the
things he’d looked forward to in regards to marriage
with Alicia, his new mother-in-law was not one of
them. The biddy would not cow him. He would meet
her head on.

“It’s not healthy for a young man like yourself to
hide away in the country. We have been so worried
about you. At least it looks like you’ve been taking care
of yourself.” She made an aside to the other ladies,
“Wickham is always so well turned out, my Alicia appreciated that about him.”