My Brother's Crown (47 page)

The healer turned toward them and spoke softly. “Keep her warm and comfortable. Her heart is very weak.”

“Would bloodletting help?” Catherine asked.

The woman shook her head.

“It seemed to when the physician did it.”

“Sometimes it can cause an ill person to rally briefly, but there is no long-term benefit for her. That procedure does not strengthen the heart. I am sorry, but hers is beyond repair. Get her to a comfortable place as soon as you can.”

Tears stung Catherine's eyes.

“Let us take her out to the wagon for now,” Grand-Mère said.

Eriq bristled as they headed to the door, but Waltier overrode his objection. “Let them go.”

Once all of them were outside and Amelie was in the back of the wagon covered with blankets, the
agent de justice
, Pierre, and Basile arrived.

The agent looked over the documents and then said to Eriq and Basile, “They appear legitimate to me, both the certificate of baptism and the sale of the business.” He turned toward Jules. “But I cannot say for sure. Why will they not believe you?”

“They are after my holdings and have been for quite some time.” Jules turned toward Eriq. “It seems the younger Monsieur Talbot has been scheming since a trip to Paris.”

The agent scowled. “Do you two have any other evidence? Anything to substantiate your claims.”

“Only our word,” Jules said.

“
Non
.” Grand-Mère stepped forward. “We have Catherine's account.”

Catherine clutched her satchel. “
Pardon?
”

“Your account… your journal. Did you not record Eriq's dealings in Paris, where he went and whom he spoke to? And our conversations with Suzanne and Anton? From the beginning, even when Suzanne invited us, I believe she was hoping Anton would benefit from our property.”

“Did you write it all down?” the agent asked.

Catherine nodded.

“May I look?”

“Of course,” she said, pulling the relevant papers out of the satchel
and arranging them so the meeting with Suzanne was on the top. “It begins here and goes through yesterday when Eriq brought the youngest brother of le Duc de la Rochefauld to our house.” She exhaled. “He proposed I marry him so our property would belong to him.” She turned toward Jules. “Of course he had no idea my brother had already converted.”

“Did you know?”

“
Non
,” Catherine said. “Not until now.”

The agent leaned against the wagon, skimmed through the pages, and then handed them back to Catherine. He turned to Basile. “I am in favor of these people, but my opinion carries no weight as far as the property in Lyon—or the mother and child. Take the documents back to Lyon and have them verified with the priest if you are suspicious. Consult with your captain too, and then come back.”

“We need you to detain the suspects here while we are gone,” Eriq said.

“
Non
,” the agent replied. “I do not have the facilities. This is your problem. Leave one of your men to watch them.” The agent turned to go, calling over his shoulder, “You have taken enough of my time.”

Basile consulted with Eriq and then said, “We will take Estelle and the baby to Lyon.”

“You cannot,” Grand-Mère said. “I have a letter of protection.”

Basile groaned. “Another forged document?”

Catherine pointed at Eriq. “He can verify this one. He was there, in Versailles, when it was written.”

“I am afraid she is correct,” Eriq said. “This one is legitimate. The baby stays with Baroness Gillet. And that means Estelle does too.”

Basile groaned again. “Where do we lock up the others?”

Eriq turned to look at Jules. “This warehouse is identical to the one in Lyon,
oui
?”

Jules nodded.

“Then into the vault it is. Let's go.”

Not bothering to reply, Jules paid the healer and then scooped up Amelie yet again and headed for the vault. Pastor Berger rounded up his family and shooed them into the warehouse as well.

“What about food and water?” Catherine asked.

“Estelle will help Waltier see to that,” Basile said. “Eriq and I will be back in three days.”

“Speak for yourself,” Eriq said. “I am leaving for Paris with Anton. The arrangements have already been made.” His eyes fell on Catherine. “Once this is all sorted out, and we discredit Jules and Pierre, Anton will have to decide what he wants to do next. And you will have to choose which life you prefer—a short one on the wheel or a longer one of style.” He leaned closer. “Don't be a fool.”

Catherine stepped away.

It was crowded and hot in the vault, a single lantern the only thing keeping them from complete darkness. Grand-Mère had Amelie's head in her lap, while Catherine knelt beside her cousin. Estelle, who could have been allowed to wait outside, insisted on staying with Amelie and Valentina. Pierre sat closest to the hatch.

The adults whispered quietly while the three little boys kicked each other. Pastor gently scolded them, reminding them how ill Amelie was. Catherine motioned for Jacob to come sit beside her, and he did.

“When can we get out of here?” Catherine whispered to Jules.

He scooted closer. “When we know for sure Basile and Eriq are both gone. There is a boat waiting for us at the river. Once the coast is clear, we will all go out through the hatch and make our way there.”

It sounded like a good plan, but she saw one problem. “What of Waltier? If we disappear on his watch, he will be held responsible. But he has been kind to all of us. Surely we cannot repay him in this way.”

“I agree, but we have no choice. Anyone who has no plan of converting needs to be on their way as soon as possible whether it gets him in trouble or not.”

“
Pardonez-moi,
” Estelle whispered, scooting toward them, “but I couldn't help but overhear. Waltier wants to help no matter the cost. I already told him about the hatch door. He said he will come for us that way once the others are gone and it is safe.”

Her throat full with emotion, all Catherine could do in response was give Estelle a big hug.

They agreed to wait for Waltier. In the meantime, once Estelle scooted away again, Jules reached for Catherine's hand in a rare gesture of affection.

“You know if I only had responsibility for myself, I would have left for Switzerland months ago. But I had to think of our employees, of Grand-Mère, of Amelie, of Valentina—of you.”

Catherine nodded. She understood.

“So now I must ask if you have any plans to convert.”

She swallowed hard. “
Non
. I have absolutely no conviction to do so.”

“I thought that would be your answer.” He sighed. “In that case, Catherine, you must leave.”

“What about you, Jules? Will you stay here or go back to Lyon?”

“We will continue to go back and forth as we have been doing,” he said, gesturing toward Pierre.

We?
Catherine's stomach lurched. Once again, Pierre's loyalty was to Jules and not to her.

She grew silent after that, a sharp pain encircling her heart. From time to time she glanced at her betrothed. He did not meet her eyes but sat with his head down as if deep in thought.

An hour later, the hatch slid open and Waltier appeared. He said it was safe to come out, but to stay quiet and move carefully.

At Jules's direction, one by one they dropped down through the opening into the short tunnel below. Pierre handed Amelie through to Jules and then came out last, pulling the hatch closed behind him.

They made their way down to the river and climbed into the boat, which was barely big enough to hold them all. Pierre untied it and grabbed two long, sturdy sticks, tossing one to Jules.

“The river is a little deeper here,” Jules said, pushing off from the bank. “And up to the mill too. The plan is to store the paper in the warehouse and then ship it out by wagon. The first load goes out on Monday, all the way to La Rochelle.”

“Why so far?” Catherine asked.

“I have a buyer in England. It will go by ship from the harbor there.”

Catherine pursed her lips as she began guessing at her brother's plan. How could she have doubted him? “Sounds like a good idea,” she said, imagining herself hidden among crates of paper.

Then it dawned on her. The way he seemed to have everything under control, the newly established commerce routes that just happened to lead out of France, the special wagon with its hidden compartments… Her brother wasn't just going to smuggle her out of the country. He had
been
smuggling out other Huguenots as well all along—more than likely with Pierre's help.

They weren't traitors. They were heroes.

Swallowing hard, she couldn't help but remember Pierre's many entreaties to trust him. She should have listened. She would know better now.

Five minutes down the river, Jules and Pierre maneuvered the boat to a landing. Catherine knew what was up the trail—the childhood home of her mother. By the time they reached the door, Cook had it wide open, hugging each person as they passed through. “You don't know how much it pained me to leave without you,” she said to Catherine, giving her a second hug.

“Is Monsieur Roen here too?”

She nodded. “We traveled through the night to make it. Jules and Pierre rode ahead on their horses holding lanterns to light the way.”

Relief flooded through Catherine for the faithfulness of Cook and Monsieur Roen to all of them.

Grand-Mère and Catherine concentrated on laying out a pallet on the floor in the front room and then getting Amelie settled there. The rest congregated in the dining room and kitchen.

“Where is Valentina?” Amelie muttered.

“I will get her,” Catherine said. Estelle was in the kitchen nursing the little one while Cook stoked the fire.

As Catherine waited for her to finish, she listened to Waltier and Jules talking. It sounded as if their plan was for Waltier to break from the dragoons and hide deeper in the Plateau.

“You can stay with a farmer I know,” Jules told him. “You should be safe there.”

Waltier gestured toward Estelle.

“Of course she is free to go, but I hope she will wait until the baby is weaned.” Jules sighed. “We are indebted to you, Waltier. All of us are. I will do whatever I can to help you.”

“
Merci
. But what about you? What happens when they come back?”

“What can I say? My conversion documents are genuine. There is nothing they
can
do.”

“But Basile—”

“Basile is all talk, fueled by wine and his ego, but that is it. There is no way I would have let him claim my cousin's hand or allow that buffoon from Versailles have any right to my sister.”

Waltier smiled.

Catherine took the baby from Estelle to burp. As she patted the little one's back, she turned to Waltier. “You have my gratitude too. You were a friend when we were children, and you have remained so.”

He bowed his head toward her, and she stepped into the dining room with the baby. Pierre and Pastor Berger were deep in conversation. Madame Berger pushed up from the table. “I'll see what I can do to help Cook.” Before she left, she told the boys they could go outside as long as they stayed between the house and the river.

When Catherine reached the front room, she paused and looked down at Amelie, so beautiful, so pale. So ethereal.

Blinking away tears, Catherine knelt and placed baby Valentina into the crook of her mother's arm. Amelie smiled slightly in response but that was all. She didn't open her eyes again or utter her daughter's name. Holding back a sob, Catherine knelt beside mother and child, smoothing the hair from her beloved cousin's feverish forehead. She watched as the baby wriggled for a moment before falling asleep. Catherine settled beside them, lying down and wrapping her arms around them both like a shield against a storm.