Authors: Marie Lavender
“This is going to be hard for you and for me as well. I have to leave and God help me...I cannot seem to let you go. It hurts too much. I wish I could make you a promise, something to improve your current status. I would like to give you the protection of my name before I leave, but I don't see how it would help if something happened to me. Besides, your pride would neither tolerate a marriage vow in the name of protection or convenience. If you happen to find another suitor...perchance you meet someone, a man who is willing to give you everything, perhaps even love, I would not blame you if you took a lover or a husband. No, I would not blame you.” His lips grazed each eyelid. “Sleep well...and live well, my love.” He gently eased away from her.
She fought the onslaught of tears and unbearable pain as she heard him dress. When the close of the door signaled his departure, tears ran freely down her cheeks but the tightness around her heart remained. Wrenching sobs defeated her and she curled into a tight ball and cried into a pillow that served to remind her of the love they'd just made. She wasn't sure when she'd fallen asleep, but it was obvious now that she had. She remembered staring at that door in the darkness of the room only lit by a slit of moonlight through the curtains, praying that Grant might come back. Her heart had refused to realize his current obligations, but now she knew them well.
Fara would miss him with an ache she was certain would take an eternity to ease away. He didn't have to worry about her finding someone else. But, he
did
have duties to fulfill, those which didn't involve her and surely hadn't before they'd met. And the law still considered him a traitor. Both facts did not help to ease the wrenching pain she felt now that Grant was gone.
There were still many hours left before Rosalie would attempt to wake her, many hours before her duties as guest would apply. Because it was too painful to reflect on past events even more, she rose, washed and dressed in a gown of lilac hue with ivory trim. As she passed the vanity, a white glint caught her eye and she turned back to see a note he'd left with the name of an accountant and where she could find him. Shutting her eyes against the pain that he had indeed tried to protect her from even as he left, she proceeded downstairs to the kitchen, where she requested a meager breakfast from the cook. Crying had made her appetite lessen.
After leaving with her meal wrapped in a linen napkin, she explored the gardens, taking note of the statues she hadn't had a chance to observe the night before. Though a few icons of saints were strewn about, she noticed the perversity of the other statues. Each one displayed acts that would only be performed in the privacy of one's bedroom. Perhaps
Monsieur
Devereux, her aunt's husband, had been a passionate man as well. This was indeed a garden for couples. It was no wonder Grant had been enticed to make love to her, though he had exhibited such behavior in the past for no reason other than her mere presence.
Fara sat down on a stone bench. She felt numb, lost even, at the thought of him being gone. Would she ever feel anything again? She'd had a similar experience after her uncle's death, but now, heartbreak had been added to her loss -- a heartbreak so severe it could not be healed by a few months of mourning.
The difference between her grief for the loss of her uncle and Grant's leaving was staggering. She had loved her uncle, but she never felt close to him. She tolerated his impassive behavior. While the absence of his presence was strange, her life was easier without him continually dictating to her.
With Grant, there were a few things about the man that frustrated her: his persistence, his teasing manner when she was serious, and the strange fact that he was now a traitor to his country. Everything else about him she admired and loved. His passion, though intense, was somehow welcoming. The respect he showed toward his men was inspiring. The way he never let society dictate his actions; instead personal convictions motivated what he chose to do. Even though she didn't condone it, she would always admire the courage it took to trade with the enemy despite the risks. She feared she would never know how he'd felt about her, and perhaps it might have only been desire that made him stay with her, but it didn't matter. She still loved him.
Hours later,
Madame
Devereux pulled her from the gardens, requesting her presence at tea. There were many guests curious about Grant's proposal. Somehow, Fara hadn't thought about the questions to be asked because of his invitation to the gardens. Yet the guests need for details seemed insatiable, and she had none with which to supply. A small measure of the truth would perhaps suffice for now.
“
Monsieur
Hill has left the city for a while on business. I'm not sure when he will return.”
The ladies in the room offered their comfort, but it did not ease the ache she felt inside. She felt that idle words never would.
That evening, as she and Lina sat down to dinner alone, since the others had diverse affairs to tend to, there was a commotion in the house.
“What on earth is going on?” At the sound of breaking glass, her aunt rose and slowly walked into the other room.
A few minutes later, two men in uniform appeared in the doorway of the dining room. Fara's stomach rolled. So, they knew he had disappeared. Nothing would ever be the same again. Her heart leaped into her throat as they stepped toward her with purpose.
* * * *
It had been twenty-four hours since Grant's departure and now she was being interrogated. It was not uncommon for authorities to resort to questioning a woman, but surely her social status meant something. The man before her was the same officer who had confronted her in the carriage. “Come,
Mademoiselle
. Cooperate with us. What did
Capitaine
Hill say to you before he left? Where did he say he was going?”
She frowned. “I do not know what you're talking about. He told me nothing.”
“You saw him last. There were witnesses…”
She nodded. “
Oui
, he was at
Madame
Devereux's dinner party.”
“He was late to dinner, was he not,
Mademoiselle
?”
“
Oui
, but I fail to see--”
“Was he late often,
Mademoiselle
?” He leaned across the table, breathing in her face.
She refused to let him see her hesitance. She steeled herself against the intrusion of personal space. “No,
Monsieur
.”
“Then something happened. There was considerable haste taken. He told you of a run-in with the authorities,
oui
?”
She swallowed her fear. What had Grant gotten himself into? She could only be honest. The officer was, after all, a representative of the law. “He may have mentioned it.”
“Witnesses say he dragged you away to the gardens. He was to propose, but no…
Capitaine
Hill was never that noble. He was not offering his
amende
honorable
. He told you other things, personal things. Important things. His destination, perhaps?”
“No…not that.” She released a tight breath. “I--”
“What things?”
“I do not know.” She gasped, horrified that this man was capable of saying these things to a woman of her position. “It doesn't matter!”
The man reached over the table to grip both of her upper arms and the guards behind her came to attention instantly. He couldn't hurt her; no, not with those respectable witnesses. He shook her gently. “Tell me!”
She was the first to look away, shutting her eyes tightly. “Please…” she whispered.
He let go of her as if she'd slapped him. “It was personal then. He told you nothing else.” He narrowed his eyes. “Was he worried for your safety?” When she nodded, he approached her slowly. “
Capitaine
Hill proceeded to make love to you…”
She recoiled in haste, sliding from the chair, only to find herself backed up against the wall. “Leave me alone, damn you!”
He nodded solemnly, as if finally understanding. “I was wrong about you,
Mademoiselle
. You were in love with him, weren't you?”
Mon
Dieu
, how much longer would she have to endure this? She turned her face toward him, narrowing her eyes in challenge. “Do what you must,
Monsieur
,” she replied coldly. “I have nothing more to say.” She could try to be strong, but she could not fight the authorities for long.
Suddenly there was a knock at the door and it swung open to reveal a man clad in the same color of uniform, but perhaps with more decorations than the officer questioning her.
Behind the man, a woman stepped forward, gasping. “
Chère
…
Mon Dieu
! What have you men done to this poor girl?” She brushed past the man to drag Fara in an embrace.
“
Madame
Devereux?” she asked in shock.
“
Oui, Mademoiselle
.” She turned to the men. “You should be ashamed. This young woman has been through a lot already and the minute you lost your man, you found it necessary to drag her to a place like this and treat her like a trollop on the street. She's an heiress, gentlemen, and you would do well to remember it. Come,
chère
. We're going home.” She took Fara's hand and nodded to the man who had proceeded with her into the room. “
Lieutenant
.”
“How?” Fara asked when they left the building.
“No more questions,
chère
. I have my connections. Just think of rest. That's all you need right now.”
“Thank you.” She nodded to her hostess. It was all she could think to do at the moment.
Lina's man waited at the carriage to take them back. He looked disheveled and blinked rapidly as if he had been roused before the usual time. When they arrived at the house, her aunt escorted her up the stairs to her room. Embarrassingly, Lina even helped her to dress into a nightgown as she remembered her mother doing for her at a young age. Fara climbed onto the mattress and rested her head on the pillow. Pulling the covers up, she looked at her aunt.
“
Mercí
,
Madame
.”
“Do not thank me anymore, dear girl. Oh, and,
chère
?”
“
Oui
?”
“Please call me Lina.”
She nodded as the woman squeezed her hand and left the room.
* * * *
Fara slept late into the afternoon. A strange feeling in her stomach, however, woke her. It reminded her of an illness she'd had when she was four years old. Nausea crept up and panicking, she somehow made it off of the bed and reached the chamber pot. After vomiting uncontrollably, the retching finally eased and she felt unduly weak. Her mind was clouded with confusing thoughts, cursing Grant for the position he'd left her in, and she almost didn't hear a gasp behind her and panicked footsteps.
“
Mademoiselle
!”
Madame
Devereux exclaimed when she found Fara on the floor.
“Lina,” she whispered as she was pulled into a sitting position. “I seem to be ill.”
“What's wrong? What is it?”
“There are so many things. When Grant left, so many things happened. Everything fell apart. God help me...Lina, we're related. You didn't know, but I did.
Tante
...” She knew she sounded hysterical, but she was past caring. She had been through too much.
“Oh,
ma chère
. I am a widow, but I loved my husband. I am not blind to a woman in love. And you're not to worry. I know all about my brother's will. I know who you are, dear niece. I've known since you first came here; I just didn't want to embarrass you by pointing it out. I have no idea why you felt you had to lie to me, but no matter.”
“How?” she whispered. “How did you know?”
She smiled gently. “
Chère
, you look just like your mother. It was fairly obvious. Now, don't worry. I'll take care of you until you are married. And this
Monsieur
Hill that abandoned you...”
Fara shook her head. “He hadn't a choice. He went because--”
“Shh…forget. No more. You are defending his character, of course. I understand, Fara. And you are quite overwrought.”
“I'm not hysterical.” Her jaw tightened. She felt as if Lina patronized her, but she thanked God silently for allowing her aunt to know of the relation.
“Of course not,
chère
. Come, let me help you. You'll not need to worry any longer. I'll send for Francoise to clean this up. Then I'll get you some nice tea.”
“You do not understand...”
“Of course I do. I am a woman. I beg you to believe me...I
do
understand. I never had children, but I came close to it. So, believe it or not, I've been through this before.”
She wanted to thank the woman for having experienced such a thing, but it wasn't proper. Besides, she couldn't fathom losing a child, even her child...her heart tightened on a note of pity that Lina had been through that kind of hell. “I was his...”