Charlotte: The Practical Education of a Distressed Gentlewoman (28 page)

“
Ahem,” the waiter coughed,
interrupting Simon and Katherine's breakfast.

“
Yes?”

“
Sir, there is a personage who
wishes to speak with you.”

“
Oh? Can you show him
in?”

“
He is not suitably dressed for
the dining room.”

Vaguely presentable, but battered,
bruised and showing it, Charles O'Reilly, lately Lieutenant of the
Legion Irlandais
, and somewhat earlier sergeant in His
Majesties 4
^th
foot, patiently waited in the courtyard.
He had mixed thoughts about that damned Englishman, Bates. He'd
have much rather not accepted charity from him. Nonetheless,
O'Reilly had to admit that a wash, a shave, a full belly and clean,
if well used, clothes restored some of his normally optimistic
lookout on life. Bates emerged from inside and promptly walked
over. “Sorry about that, last evening, but highway robbery,
O'Reilly, that just won't do, just won't do at all.”

“
What are you going to do about
it?”

“
Depends, you know, it rather
depends on what you are willing to do.”

“
I don't like you
English.”

“
I'd gathered, sergeant, but
you're stuck with us.”

“
So Colonel Bates? What are you
planning?”

“
I need an agent. You aren't
associated with the Fenian's or any group like that are
you?”

“
No. I am, no was, a professional
soldier.”

“
Good.”

“
Simon! Where are you?”, it was
Katherine. “I warned you not to – Oh, it's your friend
O'Reilly.”

O'Reilly continued, “I'm not sure
about you Sir Simon, how do I know I can trust you?”

“
You don't. O'Reilly, let me put
it this way, you're damned lucky I was there and acted first. Mrs.
Bates would have just blown your head off.” O'Reilly looked at Lady
Katherine and saw a blank, hard almost hungry stare pass across her
face. He gulped, he'd seen that look before, but never on a woman,
he turned to Simon and noticed that he didn't object, indeed the
same look flickered across his face as well. O'Reilly shivered, the
last time he'd seen that look, its owner was a Prussian officer who
would kill a man with as little compunction as he would have had in
swatting a fly. He looked back, and the bland expressionless,
slightly vacant look of the English upper class had returned to
their faces.

Simon continued, “We've been
keeping count and Katherine's tally is higher than mine. She tends
to be impatient, while I prefer to use finesse.” He paused and then
continued, “So O'Reilly, what's your price?”

“
I want to go home, to Ireland,
free. Without a price on my head.”

“
That's a tall order, but is that
what you want?”

“
Yes.”

Simon offered his hand, and
O'Reilly took it, shaking on the deal. “Done. We'll arrange it, but
I must warn you it will not be easy. Might take a little time to
get it arranged. Go to the servant's entrance and let them know
that you're Sir Simon Bates' head groom, They'll find you a place
to sleep. We have an errand in town and will be back in a few
hours.”

Katherine looked at Simon, “An
errand, dear?”

“
Yes, my love, Dr Moulin. I
thought you didn't want me to visit him alone?”

That was an
understatement.

“
I don't want you to visit him at
all, Simon. But if you insist, I'm not letting you go alone and
make a bigger fool out of yourself than is absolutely
necessary.”

It did not take long to find the
good doctor, and they waited in his consulting rooms while he dealt
with the morning's clientèle.

“
Entrez
,” he finally came
to the elegantly dressed English couple who were paging through the
ancient copies of
L'Moniteur
that littered his office. Simon
was sure he'd find a copy of his reward notice, but was
disappointed. The papers were too old.

“
What is the problem?”

“
I need to ask you about one of
your patients, a Marie LeBrun?”

“
I don't discuss my patients with
strangers, who are you?”

“
Sir Simon Bates, and my wife Lady
Katherine Bates.”

“
And how do you know Mme. LeBrun
so well, that you would ask about her health?”

Simon cleared his throat a little
nervously, looked at Katherine and replied, “I'm her English
Mi'Lor. She may have told you about me.”

“
Oh,” the doctor paused, “Still, I
cannot discuss details with you.”

“
I don't want the details, is she
well?”

“
No, she's dying.”

“
Consumption?”

“
Non
, a growth, now tell
me. Why are you curious about her?”

“
She is an old friend. Can you
tell me what will happen to her daughter when she dies? Does
Henriette have family to care for her?”

“
No, not really, the war took her
cousins, all her family. She'll be a ward of the
parish.”

“
Damn.” Given normal French
bureaucratic efficiency and especially how much worse it would be
in these chaotic times, she'd starve before the parish even knew
she needed help.

Katherine's eye's flashed,
signaling her discontent, a danger signal that Simon rarely
ignored, “Simon you will not, I will not take.”

“
Katherine, what would you have me
do? I owe Marie. In fact you owe Marie as much as I do, if not
more, because without her help I'd have never returned from France.
I can never repay her for that, but I can help her daughter. Now
Dr. Moulin, how long, roughly, does she have?”

He gave a Gallic shrug of
indifference. “It is hard to say. Tomorrow, a few weeks, maybe a
few months, but not long.”

Simon pulled a letter from beneath
his coat. “You can read this when we go.” Here again he looked at
Katherine who was steadily simmering underneath her outward
cultured veneer of calm, “It contains my address and an offer to
house Mlle. Henriette LeBrun. It may be useful, when the time
comes.” He paused, for he knew what he would say next would deeply
upset Katherine. He felt he had no choice, “And, please, send your
bills to me. Mme. LeBrun has enough to worry about.”

Katherine muttered, in English,
through clenched teeth, “Simon, please don't embarrass
us.”

“
If you can, don't tell her who is
paying. Please keep it secret.”

“
Of course, I'll be discreet. Now,
if you'll excuse me, I have to get on with my rounds.” The doctor
rose and showed them out.

It did not take Katherine long to
let Simon know what her feelings were. He listened without reaction
as she explained, in detail, why it was impossible that they should
support Mlle. Henriette LeBrun and how outraged she would feel if
he tried to support her, and why this was not a good idea, at all.
Not now, not ever. When she was done, he replied, “Katherine,
believe me, if there were any honorable alternative, I'd use it.
However, there really isn't. If I just pay for her, everyone will
think she's my natural child. It will ruin her.”

“
You know that if they see you two
together, they'll know. She looks so much like Alice.”

“
Not if we adopt her.”

“
No, never. I'm sorry Simon,
no.”

“
Yes. I'm serious, Katherine, I
really am. She is a lovely, well-mannered child. She will need a
family, a governess, a chance.”

Katherine was silent, lost in her
thoughts. Simon continued, “You aren't still jealous of Marie are
you? Whatever happened then is not Henriette's fault. If there
hadn't been this damned war, Marie would still be married to her
Henri, and you'd be pushing me to try for a bishopric.”

After a moment she said, “Simon, I
don't know, I'm not sure I can be a stepmother to her, to give her
the care she will need.” Simon squeezed her hand. “I'm not sure I
can be a stepfather either, but I don't know anyone else who could
do better.”

A dress maker.