defeats of the winter, the threat was no
longer possible to ignore. Alain should have realized
the politics behind it. An intelligent junior clerk or
aide-de-camp looking for quick promotion would have
detected the commonality all the families had in common. The only stroke of luck was that no one had detected the connection between the Panchettes and
Pierre Ramboulet. Alain hoped that bit of luck would
hold. The Panchettes had left early enough that they
might escape notice altogether. If not, it was not a difficult trail to him. He was new in town. He had shown up
at the time the disappearances began. He had asked to
borrow Pierre Ramboulet to help him with his correspondence. Too many coincidences to be overlooked,
especially if coupled with the random comments made
by Major Von Hausman about how he was nothing like
the man Von Hausman had heard rumor of.
Oh yes, the game had become dangerous indeed. He
did not think General Motrineau would take kindly to
discovering he’d harbored a traitor under his roof. He
would have to leave soon. It was small consolation that he’d have to leave soon anyway. If the armistice failed,
as it looked like it would do, fighting would resume and
he’d be expected to rejoin his Lancer unit. Either way,
his life in Paris was quickly coming to a head.
The thought would have been more welcome if it
hadn’t been for Cecile. He was eager to get back to
Hythe and see the progress on the resort. The season
had officially ended in London, August 12, three days
ago. His investors would be visiting Hythe to see the
resort taking shape. It would be awkward if he wasn’t
there. He couldn’t expect Daniel to manage them on
his own.
The summer moon rose above the trees, golden and
warm in the dark sky. Alain scolded himself for spending so much time contemplating the situation when the
decision to be made was obvious. There were no viable
arguments for staying. He would tell Cranston to pack
only their clothes and anything that would give away
their English presence. The boat was at Calais. They’d
leave the next evening. If Ramboulet refused to go,
then he was on his own. Those concerns were easily resolved. More difficult, was what to do about Cecile.
He’d see Cecile tomorrow as planned and ask her and
Etienne to come with him. Alain leaned heavily on the
window sill and expelled a deep breath. What would
Cecile’s reaction be to the truth? Would she be able to
understand that he was still fundamentally the same
man who’d spent the last weeks with her? He just didn’t
wear a Lancer’s uniform. Cecile had no love for the supporters of Bonaparte’s regime or soldiers. It had been a
token of their growing relationship that she’d been able
to put aside her dislike for his uniform. That realization gave his courage a boost. Still, coming with him would
be a commitment. She’d be leaving behind her homeland and all that she knew, even her language. To his
best knowledge, Cecile might recognize English but she
did not understand it. If she agreed to come with him,
she and her brother would be entirely his responsibility.
The thought of taking care of Cecile brought a smile
to his face. He would love to dress her in fine gowns,
finer than the ones she wore at the general’s house. She
would be an asset to Hythe with her compassion towards others. He would take great pleasure in having
her preside over his table and his house. There was only
one way he knew of to have a woman like Cecile and
that was to marry her. Oddly enough, that was exactly
what he wanted to do.
Alain’s heart leaped joyously with the realization.
He had been foolish not to recognize it earlier. It would
not be enough to have Cecile nearby in a cottage in
Hythe, to simply see her in passing by chance on High
Street or at St. Leonard’s. It would be torture to travel
to London and leave her behind. He wanted her by his
side, sharing the daily living of their
longer possible to ignore. Alain should have realized
the politics behind it. An intelligent junior clerk or
aide-de-camp looking for quick promotion would have
detected the commonality all the families had in common. The only stroke of luck was that no one had detected the connection between the Panchettes and
Pierre Ramboulet. Alain hoped that bit of luck would
hold. The Panchettes had left early enough that they
might escape notice altogether. If not, it was not a difficult trail to him. He was new in town. He had shown up
at the time the disappearances began. He had asked to
borrow Pierre Ramboulet to help him with his correspondence. Too many coincidences to be overlooked,
especially if coupled with the random comments made
by Major Von Hausman about how he was nothing like
the man Von Hausman had heard rumor of.
Oh yes, the game had become dangerous indeed. He
did not think General Motrineau would take kindly to
discovering he’d harbored a traitor under his roof. He
would have to leave soon. It was small consolation that he’d have to leave soon anyway. If the armistice failed,
as it looked like it would do, fighting would resume and
he’d be expected to rejoin his Lancer unit. Either way,
his life in Paris was quickly coming to a head.
The thought would have been more welcome if it
hadn’t been for Cecile. He was eager to get back to
Hythe and see the progress on the resort. The season
had officially ended in London, August 12, three days
ago. His investors would be visiting Hythe to see the
resort taking shape. It would be awkward if he wasn’t
there. He couldn’t expect Daniel to manage them on
his own.
The summer moon rose above the trees, golden and
warm in the dark sky. Alain scolded himself for spending so much time contemplating the situation when the
decision to be made was obvious. There were no viable
arguments for staying. He would tell Cranston to pack
only their clothes and anything that would give away
their English presence. The boat was at Calais. They’d
leave the next evening. If Ramboulet refused to go,
then he was on his own. Those concerns were easily resolved. More difficult, was what to do about Cecile.
He’d see Cecile tomorrow as planned and ask her and
Etienne to come with him. Alain leaned heavily on the
window sill and expelled a deep breath. What would
Cecile’s reaction be to the truth? Would she be able to
understand that he was still fundamentally the same
man who’d spent the last weeks with her? He just didn’t
wear a Lancer’s uniform. Cecile had no love for the supporters of Bonaparte’s regime or soldiers. It had been a
token of their growing relationship that she’d been able
to put aside her dislike for his uniform. That realization gave his courage a boost. Still, coming with him would
be a commitment. She’d be leaving behind her homeland and all that she knew, even her language. To his
best knowledge, Cecile might recognize English but she
did not understand it. If she agreed to come with him,
she and her brother would be entirely his responsibility.
The thought of taking care of Cecile brought a smile
to his face. He would love to dress her in fine gowns,
finer than the ones she wore at the general’s house. She
would be an asset to Hythe with her compassion towards others. He would take great pleasure in having
her preside over his table and his house. There was only
one way he knew of to have a woman like Cecile and
that was to marry her. Oddly enough, that was exactly
what he wanted to do.
Alain’s heart leaped joyously with the realization.
He had been foolish not to recognize it earlier. It would
not be enough to have Cecile nearby in a cottage in
Hythe, to simply see her in passing by chance on High
Street or at St. Leonard’s. It would be torture to travel
to London and leave her behind. He wanted her by his
side, sharing the daily living of their
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