The Sometime Bride (61 page)

“
Monsieur le marquis
,” came a whisper. Very close.

“
Where are you?” Alex choked out, his throat raw from lingering smoke and the stench of death.

“
I fear you are leaning on me,” said Auguste Beaufort.

Swearing softly, Alex dropped to his knees behind the cart on which he had been resting. Only Beaufort’s muddy, blood-smeared head and shoulders were visible. “The leg is broken, I think,” said the colonel, “but the rest are mere scratches, I believe. May I ask what you’re doing here?” he added with his customary
sangfroid
.

“
We did not care to see André become an orphan,” said Alex blandly. “And it may be I felt I owed you a debt.
N’importe
. What matters is that we get you out of here.”

August 1815—Paris

Nearly two months after the battle of Waterloo a strange cavalcade drew up in front of the Hôtel Beaufort. There were three carriages in all and a phalanx of outriders. At the head of the procession was a carriage with the Marchioness of Harborough, her sister-in-law Lady Amabel Trowbridge, baby Elspeth and her nurse, the redoubtable Rosalía Sanchez. The proud father and his twin rode beside the carriage. In the second coach were Auguste Beaufort, his erstwhile enemy General Sir Quinton Audley, and Dona Blanca Dominguez. In the third carriage, servants and a mountain of luggage.

With no regard for dignity, Emile and Marguerite Beaufort ran down the steps to greet their guests. After personally assisting his son out of the carriage and onto his crutches, the Parisian banker, Emile Beaufort, stepped back to allow his wife to rain tears of joy on her son’s chest. He turned to the two identical and equally distinguished young gentlemen who had just dismounted.

Alex Trowbridge held out his hand. “Monsieur Beaufort, I’m Harborough, and it’s a pleasure to meet you at last.”

“
Why, my lord?” the elder Beaufort cried, tears shimmering behind his gray eyes. “First the boy, and now his father. To search for my son when you did not even know if he was there . . . Why would you, an Englishman, do such a thing?”

“
I suppose it never occurred to me not to,” Alex said at last, carefully avoiding his brother’s eyes. “I could no more leave the father than I could leave the son.”

Marguerite Beaufort, having finally pried herself loose from her son, was now exclaiming over the baby who was already showing signs of being a perfect miniature of her mother.
“Elle
est très belle
,” bubbled Auguste’s mother, “
comme sa maman!
” And then she fell into a tearful and voluble speech of appreciation for all that the Trowbridge ladies and Blanca Dominguez had done to nurse her son back to health.

“
C’est rien, madame
,” Cat insisted. “We had many wounded officers in our house in Brussels. That is one of the reasons it has taken us so long to bring him home. Auguste recovered quickly, I assure you, and will be walking without his crutches in no time at all.”

“
Crutches!” exclaimed Marguerite Beaufort with scorn. “What are crutches when you have saved his life? There are no thanks enough for what you have done, my lady.” With great pride and dignity, Madame Beaufort turned and led her distinguished visitors into her home.

Later that night, when the house was quiet at last, the travelers gathered in Auguste Beaufort’s sitting room, all of them well past bone weary but unable to sleep without some personal closure to the strange odyssey which had brought them here. Auguste Beaufort was stretched full-length on the sofa, his bad leg propped up on a fat pillow. Tony and Amabel sat, arms entwined, on a loveseat. Alex occupied a large wingchair, his wife unabashedly curled up on his lap, her head snuggled into his shoulder.

“
We are not all here,” said Auguste idly. “Where is Blanca?”

“
Where else?” Amabel giggled.

“
Ah, I see,” said Auguste, noting the additional absence of General Audley. “This is a good thing, no?”

“
A very good thing,” said Cat firmly. “We were in Brussels nearly two months before the battle, and Sir Quinton frequently came to call. He is my father’s first cousin and in some ways remarkably like him. Certainly in his taste for women. There was interest there from the moment they met. I believe Sir Quinton has ideas of retiring to Portugal,” she added with a knowing grin.

“
Speaking of Thomas—and as long as we’re matchmaking—” Alex broke off, pausing until he had everyone’s attention.

“
Oh-oh,” murmured Tony. Amabel clamped her fingers tightly over his arm.

“
I think we should make our children’s lives as miserable as Thomas made ours,” said Alex, keeping his face straight with some effort. “I think we should arrange a marriage contract, then sit back and see what our children do about it when they come of age.”

“
Alex!” Cat choked, sitting up abruptly. “You are joking. Tell me you are joking.”

“
Absolutely not. As angry as he made me, I think Thomas had the right of it. Sometimes it is too easy to take something for granted. If our children are at all like us, they will rebel against anything which has been arranged for them. But, hopefully, in the end they will learn to truly appreciate what was in front of them all the time.”

“
It
is
Elspeth and André you mean, is it not?” Tony inquired sweetly, as if to make his brother’s madness quite, quite clear.

“
Those are all the children we have at the moment, brother. Or are you making an announcement?”

Tony’s jaws snapped shut. Amabel blushed.

“
What about it, Auguste?” Alex urged. “Are you willing?”

Auguste Beaufort struggled to pull himself up into a sitting position. “You would join your family to mine?” he inquired with considerable surprise.

“
My family has a history of foreign brides,” Alex returned blandly.

Beaufort’s mouth quirked into a wry smile. “You are right,” he said to Cat. “Our children will not like it, I think. But we French are a practical people. Who am I to reject an alliance with the daughter of an English marquis? Though, you understand, my egalitarian ideals are sorely offended.”

“
As long as it is not a formal contract,” Cat conceded, “then I too will agree.” With a wicked gleam in her eye she added, “But before you say yes, Auguste, you must remember this truly terrifying fact: twins run in the family.”

Amid laughter, they toasted the pledge of Elspeth Blanche Trowbridge to André Emile Beaufort before the twins retired to their respective rooms and demonstrated their own personal pledge of love to their wives. In less than a year both brothers had sons to prove it.

And, to everyone’s astonishment, the young Trowbridges had a new cousin the same age. William Audley, back from his sojourn as a prisoner in America, found himself with a brother young enough to be his son. No one seemed to mind. To Blanca, who named her son Thomas Quinton Audley, there was no other word but
miracle
.

And far above, Thomas Audley sighed and retired from his vigil. At long last he could rest.

Historical Notes

The historical events in this story are as accurate as I could make them within the confines of fiction. I tried, wherever possible, to give the events the flavor of the factual account. For example, the style of language at the revolt of
Dos de Mayo
is taken from actual accounts of what happened that day.

No one could write about this period without the invaluable information found in
Wellington: The Years of the Sword
by Elizabeth Longford. I am also particularly indebted to
The Age of Napoleon
by Christopher Herold,
The Prince of Pleasure
by J. B. Priestly and
Our Tempestuous Day
by Carolly Erickson. Each provided outstanding information and insight to this exciting period of history.

Blair Bancroft

About the Author:
Although I’m best known for my Regency romances, I love to venture into new genres and have written romantic suspense, mystery, medieval romance, and futuristic. At the moment I’m working on my first steampunk. Coming soon:
O’Rourke’s Heiress
, a saga incorporating characters from both
Tarleton’s Wife
and
The Sometime Bride
. For a list of my books currently available online, please see below.

In addition to making my backlist available online, I plan to upload some new works in the not-too-distant future. I’m always delighted to hear from my readers. I can be contacted at
[email protected]
. And please visit my blog at
http://mosaicmoments.blogspot.com/

Blair’s books currently online: