Chapter 10

T he music of the orchestra was lilting and graceful. It was a waltz. She was dancing. They were dancing too closely—she knew they were—and then the music grew louder and faster, and she was being spun around and spun even more, and she felt dizzy and thought she would faint. And the gentleman’s arms were binding and cruel, and he forced her face against his chest. She tried to breathe, to call out ...

“You are nothing,” the man—he was no gentleman, although he had seemed to be one at the start—hissed into her ear. “You are a toy, a mere plaything, to be used to win favor or make enemies.”

“No!” she cried out, pushing against his chest as hard as she could.

He only laughed.

The music went faster, and she pushed away from him even harder, and yet she clung to him, too, to keep her balance. “I have no wish for this!” she declared. “Let me go!”

She fought even more, and suddenly, she was free, and she collapsed to the floor—except it was the ground, and it was dark outside, and the man who had forced her to dance and had spoken cruelly to her was gone.

She struggled to her feet, still dizzy, and looked around her through the darkness. She pressed her hands to the sides of her head, trying to hold the dizziness at bay. She sobbed. “Help me!” she cried.

And then Papa was beside her. “There now, my child,” he said. She looked up at him, and he was smiling at her. “All will be well.”

She clutched his knees and pressed her head against him. “Papa,” she whispered, and then he was gone.

Her heart hurt. Why? Why, if Papa had said all would be well, did her heart still hurt? Was it because of Avery?

Where was Avery? She called his name, but there was no response. “Where are you?” she cried. “Help me find you!”

She rose to her feet, and there was music again. It was another waltz, and she recognized that she was not outside but instead was in Schwarzenberg’s lavish hall, and she was dancing once more but with someone else. Once again, she couldn’t see her partner’s face.

And then she knew: this time her partner was Mr. Jennings. He was leading her gently, and she felt safe, but she was exhausted and collapsed to the floor, and he sat next to her, placed his hand on her shoulder, and said, “Lady Anna, wake up.”

“Lady Anna, wake up.”

She opened her eyes. Mary was sitting on the bed next to her, looking concerned. Mr. Jennings stood just outside the doorway, and Anna could see Sparks and Mr. Osbourne behind him.

“Are you ill, my lady?” Mary asked. She rested her hand on Anna’s forehead for a moment. “It doesn’t appear that you’re feverish, thank goodness.”

“Why—” Anna started to say. “Why are you all here, staring at me?” was what she wanted to ask, but she wasn’t ready to speak.

“I was concerned,” Mr. Jennings said. “We all were, actually. You have been asleep for several hours. It’s near midafternoon now. And when we heard you calling out in your sleep, I felt it was time to act.”

“Against me will,” Sparks muttered. “But I were overruled.”

“Well, I , for one, were glad Mr. Jennings asked me to wake ’er,” Mary said, sounding a bit defiant to Anna.

“Enough of that for now,” Mr. Jennings said, his eyes still on Anna’s. “There is tea and breakfast for you when you feel ready.”

“Thank you?” she said. It felt like more of a question than a reply for some reason. Her thoughts were a jumble; it had been such an odd, upsetting dream. Usually her dreams were merely curiosities to be forgotten when she awoke. But this dream ...

“We shall leave you now that we know you are well,” Mr. Jennings said.

She still couldn’t speak, so she nodded at him.

He gazed at her, making her feel breathless, and then closed the door, leaving only Mary in the room with her.

Anna placed her hand over her eyes, still trying to make sense of the images in her dream. There had been a message in her dream, she was sure of it. She didn’t understand it all, but one thing she knew for sure: she needed to concentrate on finding Avery. That was why she was in France; that was what was most important to her, for her and her family’s sake.

She rose from her bed and washed and dressed with Mary’s assistance. It was going to be a difficult day, and she would need to be stronger than she had ever been.

“ I told you I would apologize to her again, and I will,” Osbourne said grumpily. He was slouched in an upholstered chair in the corner of the parlor with his arms crossed over his chest.

“I wouldn’t have believed it of you to use an innocent in such a way,” James shot back. He paced the room, unable to sit for any length of time, as he hadn’t been able to sit for the entire day. If he hadn’t wished to be here when Lady Anna awoke, he would have gone on a brisk walk around Paris. Who knew, he might have walked all the way to Calais and back, he was so agitated.

Sparks simply stood next to a wall, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, glaring at them, not speaking a word but saying volumes.

“Look, Jennings, I’ve said it a dozen times or more now. You know the Foreign Office has been watching von Oberhausen and others. Only recently it became apparent that von Oberhausen was a main instigator. The Duchy of Berg is so near France and many of the states of Germany who joined the Confederation of the Rhine in the past—”

“I don’t require a history or geography lesson,” James said, cutting him off.

“I know that,” Osbourne replied, “but we were exceedingly fortunate that just before you arrived in Paris, von Oberhausen not only showed his hand for once but also one of his weaknesses.”

“That being beautiful women,” James said. “It is a weakness for most of us, Osbourne, so it doesn’t excuse—”

“Yes, beautiful women,” Osbourne said. “And you’re right, drawing Lady Anna into my plan was—”

“Ungentlemanly? Callous?” James asked sarcastically.

“Necessary,” Osbourne snapped. “Do you think I went into this lightly? There was no guarantee von Oberhausen would assume Lady Anna was Schwarzenberg’s mistress and fall into the trap. We were fortunate.”

“Fortunate,” James said. He didn’t feel fortunate. He felt bereft, as though part of his heart had been torn from him. How could Lady Anna ever believe that he truly had not played a part in this? She’d known he had tasks to perform with Osbourne for the Foreign Office. She wouldn’t trust him were he to ask for her hand in marriage after this.

The thought hit him like a lightning strike: her hand in marriage. Blast it all, he wanted to marry her! And yet he’d barely known her a week; such a thought seemed contradictory to his reasoned mind.

“Yes, fortunate,” Osbourne said, “for the Coalition and for Britain, Jennings. Come, man! You’re not seeing things clearly.”

“ I am,” Sparks said, speaking for the first time. “I see that it’s time fer Lady Anna to leave Paris.”

Sparks didn’t know how right he was.

They all turned at a noise in the hallway. Lady Anna must have opened the door to her room; it could only be that. Shortly thereafter, she appeared in the doorway of the parlor, gripping the doorframe, dressed in black once again, her beautiful, pale countenance and blonde hair creating a striking contrast. James’s heart leaped into his throat.

He and Osbourne both rose to their feet. Sparks strode to her and offered her his hand as Mary slipped into the room behind her.

“Please, Lady Anna, come and sit down,” Sparks said. “I’ll bring ye tea and somethin’ to eat from the kitchen.”

“Thank you, Sparks,” Lady Anna said softly.

“I’ll fetch the tea, Sparks,” Mary said quietly. “Since I made the tea already, as ye know.”

Lady Anna sat in the chair where Sparks led her, looking entirely uncomfortable, and then Sparks followed Mary from the parlor.

“Lady Anna—” Osbourne began.

She held up her hand and shook her head. “Before you say anything, I would like to inform you both that today I intend to pack my things and leave. I have traveled this far with only one goal: to find my missing brother. It is time I continue my search. I believe after I have eaten, Sparks and Mary and I shall pack our belongings and hire a coach in order to—”

“Lady Anna, there truly is no need,” James said.

She looked at him with hollow eyes that clearly showed him the hurt and betrayal she felt.

Mary quickly returned with a tray bearing tea and a plate of pastries and set it on the table next to Anna’s chair, then poured a cup of tea for her. Sparks had followed Mary back into the room and stood in the corner.

“Thank you, Mary,” Lady Anna said. She sipped her tea and then sighed deeply.

“I am—we are—truly grateful that your arrival in Paris created the opportunity for which we have been striving,” Osbourne said. “Perhaps you may understand Schwarzenberg’s and my relief and gratitude at finally catching von Oberhausen in the act. The fact that you were known only to Jennings and the prince and myself was the key: it was easy for von Oberhausen to believe you had arrived in Paris for the reason that had been implied. You were truly a godsend.”

“I suppose you’re welcome, then,” Lady Anna said unenthusiastically. She took another sip of tea.

“Would you be willing to take a stroll with me?” James said, needing to do something, anything , to help relieve the hurt she was feeling. “There is something I feel I should tell you.”

She gazed at him and sighed again, looking for all the world as if she wanted to go back to her room and sleep forever. It broke his heart to see her appear so beaten—the young lady who’d been brave and determined enough to embark on this journey in the first place.

“Not until she’s had somethin’ to eat,” Sparks said.

She reached for a pastry and then stopped. “I shall go straightaway and get my bonnet and shawl.” Then she placed her teacup on a side table, stood, and went to her room.

Sparks and Mary looked at each other and left the room together.

“You are in deep trouble, my friend,” Osbourne said. “You have found your woman, and she might not have you. Poor devil.”

“If such a thing turns out to be so, I will lay the reason entirely at your feet,” James replied.

Anna stood in front of the mirror in her room and tied the bow on her bonnet. She barely recognized the face that looked back at her.

What a hopeful little fool she’d been to think that she could cross France on her own! She had known it was going to be an arduous undertaking. But she couldn’t have imagined just how arduous and painful it would be—and she’d barely begun.

She grabbed her shawl and draped it around her shoulders and tugged on her gloves. She felt so alone. She hadn’t made sense of her troubling dream. All that would have to wait, however. She was to have a conversation with Mr. Jennings now, and whatever it was, he wished to tell her in private, which didn’t bode well.

She took one more look at the ashen face in the mirror and left the room.

The scene in the parlor hadn’t changed much since she’d left the room. Mr. Osbourne was still slouched in his chair, and Sparks stood nearby, looking as though he’d like to punch something, with Mary standing next to him, holding a small basket. Mr. Jennings was by the door, holding his jacket and hat.

“I still think ye should eat before ye go,” Sparks muttered. “Me and Mary packed some food for ye, just in case.” He sent a sour look to Mr. Jennings.

“Thank you, both,” Anna said.

Sparks nodded, and Mary handed the basket to Mr. Jennings, who had donned his jacket and hat while Sparks had spoken.

Mr. Jennings took the basket from Mary, then opened the door. “Shall we?” he said.

“Yes,” Anna replied.

He offered her his arm when they reached the street, but she clasped her hands behind her back. She didn’t think she could bear his touch right now. It might set off fireworks inside her and tear her limb from limb.

He dropped his arm.

“There’s a little garden not far from here, according to Osbourne,” Mr. Jennings said. “He has walked quite a bit while here in Paris—more than I. Would you care to go there?”

“Very well,” Anna said.

As it was midafternoon, there were several people out and about, and Anna thought it oddly funny to think that other people were going about their lives normally when hers felt as if it were all a shambles.

“May I ask what you are thinking?” Mr. Jennings said.

She told him.

“Ah,” he replied. “Of course. I’m sorry.”

Anna said nothing.

They walked in silence down the street, nodding to the people they passed along the way. Anna gazed about her, taking in the architecture and the flowers and breathing in the fresh air, trying but failing to lift her spirits.

Soon they arrived at a small square surrounded by an elegant wrought-iron fence. The trees were green, and flowers of all kinds bloomed along a pathway that seemed to meander through the plantings.

“I would presume we have found the place Osbourne mentioned,” Mr. Jennings said. He gestured for her to enter first.

As soon as she did, she was surrounded by sweet fragrances, and leaves and petals fluttered in a gentle breeze she hadn’t noticed before. She breathed in deeply—and suddenly had a deep longing for home. For Papa and Mama and John and Sarah and Betty. For Avery.

She brushed away a tear.

“Are you unwell?” Mr. Jennings asked, looking concerned.

“No, I’m ...” What to say? “I’m feeling nostalgic, I suppose. This garden is lovely.”

“Yes,” he said. He offered her his arm again, and this time, she placed her hand in the crook of his elbow. Thankfully, there were no fireworks, and she didn’t find herself torn from limb to limb. Instead, she felt a warmth that gradually filled her with a sort of peace. She brushed away another tear.

“Truly, Anna, I wish to help,” Mr. Jennings said.

She noticed he hadn’t used her title when addressing her. He’d done it once last evening too. After all they’d been through the past few days, especially the last twenty-four hours, it probably felt natural to him to do so, she supposed. She decided to allow it.

They passed an amorous-looking couple; their arms were wrapped around each other as they walked, and they were trading kisses along the way. Anna felt her face bloom with color.

“Ah, the French,” Mr. Jennings remarked when they were sufficiently past them.

She said nothing in reply. How could she possibly have responded?

She spied a gardener working in a corner of the little square, the only other person here, thank goodness.

They eventually approached a bench made of the same wrought iron as the fence. “Would you care to sit?” Mr. Jennings asked her. “Perhaps you’d like to eat whatever it is Sparks and Mary packed for us—you,” he amended.

“I suppose I would, thank you,” she said.

They sat.

Mr. Jennings opened the basket. “Nothing to drink, sadly,” he said. “I hope you’re not thirsty. But there are some pastries here.” He handed her a napkin, she chose a pastry, and then he took one from the basket for himself and set the basket on the ground at his side. “Mmm,” he said. “The French do know how to bake, do they not?”

“Yes,” Anna replied.

“And the hospitality of the people,” he said. “They seem more open, whereas we English tend to keep our emotions to ourselves.”

“Mr. Jennings,” Anna said. “Stop avoiding things and tell me what it is you wished to say.”

He looked off into the distance for a moment. “Anna,” he said. “I’m not avoiding things, as you claim. Our walk has been quiet and peaceful, and I’m reluctant to change that. I should like nothing better than to sit here with you all afternoon, if it were possible.” He paused before continuing. “And after all we’ve been through together, I wish to ask if you would call me James.”

Anna waited anxiously, unsure what to think about what he’d just said and what it might imply about his feelings for her. Was some sort of declaration of his feelings what he’d wished to share?

Finally, he turned toward her. “I don’t wish to get your hopes up,” he began, “but Schwarzenberg was indeed grateful for what happened last evening. I could tell that he truly wished to compensate you in some fashion for your role in the charade, especially as it was done without your knowledge and you were injured as a result. That is why I left you briefly last evening. I returned to speak with the prince. I told him of your search for Avery”—Anna’s hands began to shake— “and he ordered an immediate investigation into your brother’s whereabouts with his regiment.”

“He’s searching for information about Avery?” Anna said in a whisper, her entire body shaking now.

“He is,” Mr. Jennings said.

“Oh, James!” she exclaimed, impulsively using his given name, and then despite herself and their public surroundings, she threw herself into his arms and began to cry.

James closed his eyes and held her. He could feel her sobs against his chest, and he savored the emotions, her life filling his heart, and hoped beyond hope it wouldn’t be the last time he held her thus. He untied her bonnet and slipped it from her head, setting it down he knew not where, and then moved his hand to rest against the back of her head. He pressed his cheek to hers. “Anna,” he said softly.

He allowed her to cry, grateful that this little garden was as private as it was. Grateful the other couple had left and that no one else had entered. And grateful that he’d noticed the gardener—who must be a true romantic—look at them, scratch his head, pick up his weeding tools, and leave.

“Schwarzenberg is a generalissimo , you know,” James murmured as he reached into his pocket for his handkerchief and placed it in her hands. “When he speaks, others listen. He is having his subordinates look for documents regarding Avery’s regiment to determine those who were wounded in battle—or killed.” He added those last two words reluctantly but felt he must include them so that her hope held a degree of reality.

He felt her nod as he continued to hold her.

“What do you say we rest for a day or two and await his response?” James added. He’d been careful to choose words that gave her the choice rather than presume what it would be. As a lawyer—and not only a lawyer but a lawyer with outspoken sisters too—he knew it was important to let her voice her opinion, especially after last night.

“I can scarcely believe the prince is looking into Avery and his regiment,” she murmured as she pressed the handkerchief to her eyes.

He let go of a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “It is a grand opportunity neither of us could have imagined when we left Calais,” he said.

They grew silent again, and Anna, against James’s wishes, moved out of his arms. She stayed close to him, however, at least closer than she’d started out when they’d seated themselves on the bench, which James took as a hopeful sign.

He looked at her. She was gazing out at the park, so he turned his gaze too. The leaves on the trees fluttered in the light filtering through their branches, the shrubs and flowers were in bloom, and James could hear birdsong. He returned his gaze to Anna. A few strands of her hair had come loose from her coiffure and fluttered in the breeze, the blonde strands glinting in the occasional bit of sunlight that peeked through the shade.

The prince had been correct last evening: she needed no expensive gowns or sparkling gems to appear entirely beautiful.

“Would you care for another pastry?” James asked her, simply searching for something to say.

“No,” she replied with a smile.

“Shall we take advantage of a beautiful afternoon to stroll?” he asked. “The garden is lovely, but parts of Paris are equally enchanting.”

She nodded, dabbing at her eyes once more.

He stood and picked up the basket resting on the bench, then offered his hand to her while she stood. She slipped her hand once again into the crook of his arm.

“What are you thinking?” James said as they strolled toward the entrance of the little park. “You seem far away.”

She blushed charmingly. “If you must know, I was listing some of the qualities I have come to admire about you.”

“I can’t say I’m displeased about that,” he replied with a chuckle. “I have recently created a similar list of my own regarding your qualities.”

She looked at him incredulously. “How can you be the same James Jennings I met on the pier by the Duke of Aylesham’s yacht?” she asked.

“I was not at my best then, I confess,” he replied. “I could see only a naive young lady who was setting off on what I perceived to be a foolish journey. I understand your brave intentions much better now.”

“Thank you,” she said.

As they left the garden, they spied a too-familiar person approaching them at a quickened pace.

“I thought I might find you here,” Osbourne said when he reached them. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at his forehead. He’d obviously been in a hurry to reach them.

“What is it?” James asked, suddenly turning serious.

“Lady Anna, you received a letter from Schwarzenberg, and the footman who delivered it asked that we—as in, the three of us—meet with the prince at four o’clock. When you didn’t return directly, I thought it prudent to look for you. Thankfully, you are here.”

“Did you get any impression whether the news was good or ill?” Anna asked.

“No,” Osbourne said. “But I brought the letter with me.” He reached into his breast pocket and retrieved the letter and handed it to her. It bore the seal of the prince of Schwarzenberg. She broke the seal and unfolded the missive, then read it aloud.

Dear Lady Anna,

Fortune is indeed your friend, for I have been able to locate documents related to the 61st Regiment of Foot, under the general leadership of my esteemed friend the Duke of Wellington. It is rare that such documents would come so easily into my hands. If you would grant me the privilege of your presence this afternoon, I shall explain further.

Yours,

Prince Karl Philipp of Schwarzenberg

She gasped. “News so soon! Oh, but I dare not hope too much! Oh, James!”

“It is not long until it is four o’clock,” Osbourne said. “We must return with haste so that we may prepare to leave for his residence.”

“Indeed,” James said. “Come, Anna.”

“Yes,” she said, looking dazed.

James was rather surprised. The prince already had documents relating to Avery’s regiment. It had taken him less than a day. But he hadn’t revealed what those documents held, and that was troubling. Did he wish to give Anna bad news in person in order to be at hand to offer consolation? Or did he wish to give her good news in person so he could be the bearer of such news?

He wished he knew. He prayed it was the latter.