Marrying the Musketeer (8 page)

She was far from satisfied when she looked in the glass.
 
With such a simple braid, she looked more like a young country girl than ever.
 
She hoped she would not bump into any one she knew – particularly not Monsieur de Tournay.
 
She could not bear for him to see her so plainly and simply dressed, without even her hair curled.

There was no time to ask Suzanne to do it anew - her father was knocking at the door again, urging her to make haste.
 
She would have to pray and hope that her luck held out.

She pressed a gold coin into Suzanne’s hands.
 
“Monsieur de Tournay will be waiting for me in the park where we walked yesterday,” she whispered to her maid.
 
“Tell him I cannot come today – that I have gone on an excursion with my papa and I couldn’t come even though I wanted to with all my heart.
 
Tell him,” and she lowered her voce still further, “tell him that if he can escape his duties at the same time on the morrow, I will be sure to be waiting for him in the park then.”

Suzanne quietly slipped the coin into her bodice.
 
“I will be sure to tell him.”

Her papa was waiting for her on the landing.
 
“We shall breakfast in the carriage,” he said, as he hurried her down the stairs.

The housekeeper had packed them a basket of soft white rolls and a flask of hot chocolate for her and strong, sweet tea for her father.
 
They munched companionably on their bread as the carriage rumbled on over the cobbled streets of the town and then to the rutted lanes of the countryside.

Her hunger once satisfied, her curiosity was in full swing once more.
 
“Where are we going?” she asked as she stuck her head out of the window watching the cows in the fields as they passed.

Her father shook his head and would not answer her.
 
“Wait and see.”

On they rumbled for hour after hour.
 
Finally around mid-morning they stopped at a fine-looking manor house surrounded by tall trees and well-kept gardens.
 
Courtney clambered out of the carriage picnic basket in hand, glad to stretch her legs after so many hours in such close confinement.
 
Her father followed her, his old bones creaking and groaning at being made to move again.

This was hardly the pleasant inn and gardens that she had imagined when she had been told she was being taken to the country.
 
She shook her head, still puzzled.
 
She did not understand.

Her father dismissed the coachman.
 
“We shall rest here for a while.
 
Off you go and amuse yourself and come back for us mid-afternoon.
 
I would be home again before the night grows dark.”

The carriage rumbled off and left the two of them alone there, standing in the middle of the lane that led up to the house.

She put her hands on her hips and looked her father straight in the eye.
 
This was no simple jaunt in the country as he had pretended it to be.
 
“Now will you tell me what is going on?”

Her father took the picnic basket from her and began to walk up the lane towards the manor house.
 
“I thought it was time that you saw your new estate.”

Courtney looked at the house in front of her with renewed interest.
 
It was an attractive place from outside at least, built in colored brick and surrounded by lush pasture land, and looked sturdy and practical as well as very fine.
 
It was just the sort of country estate her father would buy, though why he had bought it she didn’t quite understand.
 
Her father was a merchant, not a landlord or a farmer.
 
“My new estate?
 
What do you mean?
 
Is it mine?
 
Did you buy it for me?”

He stopped walking and sat down on the stone wall that bordered the lane and lay the basket at his feet.
 
“There is something I must tell you, Courtney.”

She sat down next to him, struck by the solemn tone in his voice.
 
All of a sudden she realized that this was no pleasure jaunt in the country – but a serious matter of business.
 
The estate was no pretty present to his daughter, but something else entirely.
 
Whatever her father had to tell her was serious – so serious that he had brought her all this way to disclose it to her.
 
Her stomach flopped with distress and foreboding.
 
“Yes, papa?”

“I have enemies in France, my dear.
 
They are jealous of my success and seek to ruin me.”
 
She gave a gasp of horror, but he made a dismissive gesture as if were so used to the idea that relating it bored him.
 
“Every man has enemies, so there is nothing new in that, but I fear that mine have found a way to make trouble for me.”

Prepared for ill news as she was, she could hardly comprehend what he was saying.
 
“You are in danger?
 
Your life is in danger?”

“It does not matter what becomes of me, as long as your future is secured.”
 
He gestured at the house in front of them.
 
“No one knows that this estate belongs to me – or rather to you, for it is held in your name.
 
If aught happens to me, you can safely hide here and no one will be any the wiser.”

She could only listen and nod as the world she knew went to pieces around her.

“Mayhap what I fear will never some to pass, but you must needs be prepared for the worst.
 
Tell no one of this place.
 
If none know that it is mine, it will be safe from their grasp.
 
My house in Lyons is far too well-known – I will not be able to save that for you.”

“Your enemies would take your house?”

“I would be a happy man if they would take only my house.”
 
He got to his feet again and shouldered the picnic basket.
 
His face looked less weary now, as if telling her his secret had eased his load a little.
 
“Come and inspect your new property.”

The two of them wandered through the nearly empty house.
 
The large rooms felt cold, bare and unlived in.
 
She shivered in the chilly gloom that hung like a miasma over the entire place despite the warm summer air outside.
 
Ghosts lurked in every corner, she was sure of it, waiting only until she and her father left so they could claim the place as their own again.

As they wandered through on their lonely pilgrimage, she recognized the odd piece of furniture and painting from their house in town.
 

Her father caught the direction of her glance and nodded.
 
“I’ve had a few treasures brought out here over the last month or so – as soon as I got wind that trouble was brewing.”
 
He ran his hand over a rosewood desk that had belonged to her mother and she could see the glint of a tear in his eye.
 
“I could not bear to see this go under the auctioneer’s hammer – your mother used to sit at it of an evening as she wrote her letters.
 
The pieces I have moved here are less than I had hoped to leave you with, but I am glad that the most precious memories at least will be saved for you.”

One of the bedrooms was well-furnished, as was the library and study.

“I’ve had some of my papers moved here,” her father explained as they sat down to rest for a moment in the heavy leather chairs in the study.
 
Courtney’s feet were not tired, but her spirit was weary and glad of the chance to stop for a while and assimilate everything that she had learned that morn.
 
“They are no longer safe in my jewelry warehouse, and I cannot bring them to my town house.
 
I fear our dwelling will soon be watched, if it is not already.”

She felt a dagger of fear plunge deep into her heart.
 
Her father was deadly serious.
 
His life must indeed be in grave danger.
 
“Did they follow us today?”

He shook his head.
 
“I saw no signs of anyone following us.
 
Leaving as early as we did, we should be safe from pursuit.
 
Still, I shall not dare to come here again.
 
I must show you everything now and you must pay close attention.
 
I may not have the liberty of showing you again.”

He stood up out of his chair, took a painting off the wall to reveal a safe behind it.
 
He took a golden chain off his neck, on which hung a tiny key.
 
He held the key out to her.
 
“This is the key to the real treasure that I own.
 
If my enemies take me, it is all that I have to leave you with.
 
Open the safe.”

She took the key and turned it in the lock.
 
The door swung open, revealing a small cavity in the wall where a strongbox sat.
 
She lifted it out and put in on the desk.

Her father motioned to her to continue.
 
“The same key opens both the safe and the box.”

She fitted the key to the box and lifted the lid.
 
Inside were a number of pouches.
 
She opened the drawstring of the nearest bag and poured the contents out on to her hand.
 
A dozen emeralds lay on her palm, winking back up at her in the sunlight.
 
She held one up to the light between her thumb and forefinger.
 
The colors and facets in it were flawless – indeed it was a gem fit for a king.

She poured them back into the bag and closed the string again.
 
She had never held such wealth in her hand before.
 
She dropped the bag into the strong box once more and closed and locked the lid.
 
Only when the box was back in the safe, the safe was locked up, and the picture replaced on the wall to hide it, did she dare to breathe again.

Her father was back in his chair again, his feet up on an embroidered footstool.
 
“Emeralds mostly.
 
Mostly first quality, though there are a few lesser gems in there, too, as well as a few diamonds and sapphires, and a couple of choice pieces of lapis lazuli.
 
It were best to take them to a friend such as Monsieur Legros to dispose of them for you.
 
His selling them will attract no unwelcome notice from my enemies and you know enough about gems to see you are not cheated.”

She sat back down herself, her head still reeling.
 
“I will not forget.”

He put his head in his hands as if it ached unbearably.
 
“You must marry, of course, as soon as you are able.
 
In the next sennight would be best, if I can arrange matters so expeditiously.
 
I would have you safely wed before my enemies close in for the kill if I can manage it.
 
A respectable husband from a good family will secure your future better than any handfuls of emeralds I can leave for you.”

“Wed in the next sennight?
 
To whom?”

He seemed not to even hear the last part of her question.
 
“Come what may, these jewels will be a fitting dowry for you.
 
There is enough wealth in that safe to marry you well twenty times over, even though your father has been brought to ruin by his enemies.
 
All will not be lost if you cannot wed at once.”

She thought of Monsieur de Tournay with a pang.
 
Would he want to marry her if her father was disgraced?
 
Did he even want to wed her at all, or was she merely an idle amusement to while away his stay in the country?
 
She could not give him up yet – not until she knew for sure that he did not want her as his bride.
 
“How can I marry so soon as that?
 
I am not even betrothed yet.”

“I have failed you there, I must confess.
 
I regret that now – how greatly I regret that!
 
I delayed accepting any offer made for your hand, hoping that Justin Legros would eventually be persuaded to ask for you.
 
Such a marriage would have pleased me greatly: I have always loved Justin as my own son.
 
But it was not to be…”

“You wish me to wed Justin in a few days?”

He shook his head.
 
“I have no doubt but that my old friend Vincent Legros knows what dealings are in the wind.
 
He would not wish to betroth his son to a girl who might be a pauper any day.
 
Of course,” he gave a rich chuckle, “old Vincent does not know about my secret stash, and I shall not tell him.
 
He will kick himself if he ever finds out what a rich prize his son may have gained just for the picking of it.
 
But I dare not tell him how much I have saved for you in case even an old friend such as he is in league with mine enemies.
 
You cannot wait for young Justin.
 
I will have to find you another suitor.”