Chapter 13

T he next morning, after having arrived in Orleans safely and securing lodgings for the night, Anna awoke, washed, dressed, and headed down to the dining area to look for her fellow travelers. Mary must have awoken early, for she was not in their shared room.

When Anna arrived in the dining hall, she found Mary in a corner of the room near a window, looking out onto the courtyard and crying. Sparks, looking frustrated and outraged, was trying to comfort her.

What could have happened? And where was James?

Anna had barely formed the questions in her mind when her eyes were drawn to what Sparks and Mary appeared to be looking at through the window.

James and le Touffe were speaking—arguing, more like, if their expressions were anything to go by—and both men were gesturing wildly with their hands. It also appeared that the horses were already hitched to the coach. So what could possibly be the matter?

Rather than join Mary and Sparks at the window, Anna snatched up her skirts and hurried out into the courtyard toward the two men arguing loudly in French.

“What is going on?” Anna asked.

James swung around to face her as though he might strike whoever it was before realizing it was her. “This blasted French fool has informed me— now and not at any time along our journey—that it has always been his intention to return to Paris once he deposited us in Orleans. So, here we are in Orleans without transportation going forward.” He then turned back to le Touffe and began berating the coachman in French again.

They were being abandoned by their coachman?

“What do you mean, you are returning to Paris?” Anna exclaimed, her voice sounding more like a shriek in her ears. It hadn’t been a ladylike sound, but really, being abandoned in the middle of France wasn’t what she’d expected to encounter first thing this morning. Obviously, none of them had.

Le Touffe didn’t even glance her way.

James, however, did. “Unbeknownst to us, Osbourne was so certain that we would realize the folly of our decision and return to Paris once we began our first leg of the journey that he assured le Touffe here that he would only be bringing us to Orleans and then would be returning to Paris, either with or without us. When next I see Osbourne ...” His words trailed off, but the scowl on his face told Anna precisely what he was thinking.

She found herself gasping for breath. Why had she presumed the coach and le Touffe would be with them the entire journey? The truth was that it was just another example of her inability to anticipate what they would encounter. Her eyes welled with tears, but she fought them back. She was not going to behave as a simpering, dependent woman. Not after all they’d already endured.

James had turned to continue arguing with le Touffe, but it was obvious the coachman had made up his mind.

Anna laid a hand on James’s shoulder. “James,” she said. “Tell me his reasoning, beyond the fact the Mr. Osbourne told him this would be as far as he’d need to go.”

James continued to glare at le Touffe, and his breaths came hard and fast from the intense emotions it was obvious he was experiencing. “He said he must be at hand when Castlereagh arrives, and he only agreed to do this because it was good money and he’d also be back home with his wife and children within a few days. He assumed we knew.”

Wife and children. The foreign secretary.

Anna understood that as far as le Touffe was concerned, her needs were a distant third. “James,” she began.

“I know!” he spat. “I know . But I am furious with Osbourne! He fully expected us to rethink our plans and return to Paris when le Touffe told us he was returning. It is beyond the pale for him to make that decision against our knowledge.”

Anna glanced over at the coach, where its horses were pawing the ground with impatience while a stableboy controlled the harness.

Le Touffe said something more to James and then turned to Anna. “My apologies, ma dame ,” he said in his broken English, “but I must return to Paris.”

“I think I understand, monsieur,” she said. “Have you spoken to the innkeeper here about coaches?” she then asked James.

“I wasn’t about to let le Touffe leave without talking to him first,” James said. “Be off then, man,” he said to le Touffe with a dismissive gesture of his hand, apparently forgetting for that brief moment that the man spoke little English.

Le Touffe understood his words well enough, for after bowing to Anna, he turned, strode to his coach, jumped into the driver’s box, and took up the reins. And then he and his coach sped off, leaving a cloud of dust in their wake.

Anna quickly retrieved her handkerchief from her pocket and held it in front of her nose to keep the dust at bay, while James watched the coach until it disappeared from sight.

“I’m sorry,” Anna said at last, guilt eating away at her empty stomach. “We wouldn’t be in this predicament if it weren’t for me.”

“This is not your fault. I should have seen it coming.” He brushed accumulated dust from the sleeves of his coat and then offered Anna his arm. “Come,” he said, his voice lacking the intensity he had just used. “Let’s return inside. I will speak to the innkeeper to see what our options are, and a good, hearty breakfast wouldn’t go amiss for either of us, now, would it?” He offered her a weak but encouraging smile.

She allowed him to lead her back inside the inn. But this morning’s unexpected turn of events had drained her of strength. They had barely set off through France after leaving Paris, and they’d just gotten their first taste of trouble.

She dearly hoped it wasn’t an omen for the rest of the journey to come.

James needed all the discipline he could muster to control his anger and frustration. He could see Sparks and Mary looking at him through the window of the inn—Mary’s hands clasped over her mouth, the utter horror on Spark’s face. They’d seen the coach leave the yard and were undoubtedly shocked and dismayed at what they’d witnessed.

And Anna? Her steps were slow, and he could only think that he’d failed her.

He’d failed her, for he knew Phillip Osbourne as well as anybody. Osbourne was a fine gentleman, someone who saw to matters and ensured decisions were made. He was a man of action and loyal to his country. James should have realized that Osbourne would not understand the need for James to assist Anna in her quest—not when Castlereagh would be arriving in Paris and from there on to Vienna for the negotiations between countries to proceed.

James should have anticipated this.

Sparks hurried over to them when they entered the inn, but Mary stayed back by the window, looking frozen with fear.

“We have a duty to perform, Sparks,” James said. “Unbeknownst to us, our coachman only planned to bring us as far as Orleans. If you will arrange breakfast for Anna and Mary, I shall speak to our host to see what coach services are available to take us onward.”

“Yes, sir,” Sparks said, sounding as though he were frozen in fear too. “Right away, sir.”

“Come, Anna,” James said in as gentle a tone as he could muster when he was still in the mood to yell at someone, anyone. He led her to the table in the corner near where Mary stood. “Please be seated,” he said. “Sparks is arranging for breakfast for you. I am going to find transportation to take us to our next stop ... and hopefully beyond this time.”

“Chateauroux,” Anna said softly.

“Yes, Chateauroux,” James replied. “Now, please excuse me while I find the innkeeper.”

He bowed and strode off, dearly wishing he could throw back a brandy—or throw his fist at a hard object, such as the wall. Instead, he gritted his teeth. The others were relying on him.

Fortunately, he found the innkeeper’s wife near an entry to the kitchen. She must have seen the rage on his face, for she immediately curtsied and left after James asked where her husband was, and the man himself arrived in short order.

“My fine fellow,” James said in French to Monsieur Tessier, the innkeeper, “you may have observed that our coachman left and is currently on his way back to Paris. We are now beholden to you to help us find transportation to Chateau-roux and beyond. Our final destination is Toulouse.”

“Toulouse?” Tessier repeated. He then clucked his tongue and shook his head, and James’s limited patience began to fray even further.

“Monsieur,” James said, then he stopped speaking. Monsieur Tessier was a businessman, first and foremost. James pulled his wallet from his pocket and began counting out bills.

That caught the innkeeper’s attention. He stopped tsk-tsking and shaking his head and began to scratch at his chin thoughtfully.

Soon enough, James and Tessier had come to an agreement with Tessier’s son-in-law, Lafitte, who just happened to be the coachman who traveled between Orleans and Paris or Orleans and Chateauroux whenever there was a need. James didn’t think it occurred routinely, as Lafitte had had to remove his apron when he’d left the kitchen to come meet with them. Apparently, the son-in-law spent more time as a cook than a coachman, but James would take what he could find at this point.

Lafitte eventually agreed to take them as far as Limoges, which was to be their stop after Chateauroux, but only after an extra monetary incentive for him and his father-in-law had been agreed upon and hands shaken.

After that, James was through negotiating for the day, and Lafitte left to inform his wife and prepare the coach and horses for their departure.

James returned to the dining hall to inform the others of the arrangement. When he approached them, he saw three sets of worried eyes turn to look at him.

He wondered if he should instruct Lafitte to take them all back to Paris instead.

“A coach has been arranged for us to continue our journey and will take us as far as Limoges,” he announced when he reached their table and took a seat. “We will have three more travel days after that in order to reach Toulouse and will be subject to whatever travel arrangements can be found when we get there.” He didn’t ask the question whether they should continue—he presumed the question was implied in his statement.

“Excellent news, isn’t it, Mary?” Sparks said in a hearty tone that James suspected was intended to boost the spirits of both women. “We should go up and pack our belongings so that we be prepared to leave when the coach is ready.” He stood and looked encouragingly at Mary.

“Yes,” Mary said with a nod and an attempt at a smile. James thought her very brave in that moment. Here she was in the middle of a strange country—they all were, of course—ready to continue onward despite what fears she must certainly have.

Sparks assisted her from her chair, and then the two of them left to return to the rooms the four of them had used last evening.

James turned back to Anna, who had been watching the two servants leave. He reached for her hand and took it in his own. “I shall be frank, Anna,” he said. “Things may get worse— much worse—before they get better, whether we find your brother or not. We are heading toward the locations of battlefields, and the aftermath of battles is never pretty. I have spoken bluntly before, and while I resisted saying anything about this situation in particular, I feel it my duty to speak now. Truly, if we are not committed to the task at hand, now is the time to turn back, just as Osbourne had expected we would.”

Anna took in a deep breath and then let it out on a slow, mournful sigh that nearly broke James’s heart.

“How are you bearing up?” he asked softly.

“I pray I am not on a fool’s errand,” Anna said. “I have searched the face of every man we have passed along the way, to no avail. And more and more, I realize that I had no idea what the personal cost would be to those who were willing to travel with me. That includes you, James. But I have to continue. I’m sorry.”

“There is no reason to be sorry, my dear,” he said. And he wondered how he was going to survive this journey without pulling her onto his lap, protectively wrapping his arms tightly about her, and pressing kisses to her hands and cheeks and lips.

The coach that now stood in the courtyard of the inn, horses pacing to be on their way, was not the elegant form of transport they had been fortunate enough to enjoy on their journey from Paris, Anna quickly observed. This particular coach had seen better days, and those days had happened many years ago.

But it was a coach, at least, so she straightened her back, gave a reassuring glance to Sparks and especially to Mary, who looked as though she thought the coach were a form of torture, then stepped toward its door, where James currently stood waiting to be of assistance. The coachman, a Monsieur Lafitte, whom Anna had just met and who was apparently a relative of Monsieur Tessier, loaded their bags into the coach’s boot. A boy who appeared to be in his early teens and must be the coachman’s son, if the orders the man was barking in French and the boy’s reactions were any indication, was acting as groom and was currently trying to hold the horses.

“Oh dear,” Anna heard Mary say to Sparks. They were standing behind Anna, waiting to climb inside the coach. Anna turned to look at Mary peering inside the coach.

“I shall return in one moment, Lady Anna,” Sparks said, and then he pivoted on his foot and returned swiftly to the inn.

What was that about?

James held out his hand, and Anna climbed inside the coach only to discover threadbare upholstery, its cushioning having taken a severe beating over the years. It was flat and lumpy and looked to have been quickly but not thoroughly dusted. The floorboards showed wear as well.

She sat facing forward and shifted in her seat to try to get the lumpy parts of the cushion into places that didn’t offend her backside.

James then handed Mary into the coach, and she sat next to Anna. The seating arrangements had aided her travel sickness thus far, thankfully.

James climbed into the coach next and sat across from Anna. He looked squarely into her eyes and nodded, a sign of support she sorely needed. Then Sparks bounded into the coach and sat next to James. He was holding an old, bent bucket. “The missus of the inn caught on to me gestures well enough,” Sparks said to Mary. “And when I pointed to a bucket what was in the kitchen, she understood and fetched this one from the dustbin. Just here in case it’s needed, Mary, but don’t ye worry. I’m sure everything is going to be fine.”

With those unsettling words and the jostling of the coach as Monsieur Lafitte and his boy jumped into the coachman’s box, they were finally on their way.

It took little time to realize that the coach’s springs were either worn out or nonexistent, for Anna felt every bounce and bump and shake all the way down to her bones as the coach hit every rut in the road.

Mary moaned.

Alarmed, Anna looked over just in time to see Sparks kneel before Mary with the bucket firmly in place should Mary suddenly lose her breakfast.

Anna looked at James, although she wasn’t sure why; it wasn’t as if James could fix their current situation. No, Anna had brought them to this, and now they were suffering again in one form or another.

Mary lost her breakfast.

Sparks held the bucket and patted Mary’s shoulder in comfort. “There now, Mary, it can’t be helped,” Sparks said soothingly. “Ye’re a brave lass and all.”

Anna and James each pulled their handkerchiefs from their pockets. Anna pressed her handkerchief against her nose after Sparks refused to take it from her, but James was insistent on Sparks taking his should it be needed.

“I still have a bit of that ginger root we got on board the yacht,” Sparks said. “Do ye think it would help here too? Or just on the water?”

“It’s worth a try, for Mary’s sake,” James said. “Good man.” And then James actually held the bucket for Mary while Sparks rummaged around in his pockets until he came up with a fairly shriveled and battered-looking piece of ginger and his penknife. It didn’t look particularly appetizing to Anna, and she doubted it did to Mary either, if her grimace were anything to go by.

“Just a bit, Mary, to start,” Sparks said, cutting off a tiny piece with his knife and handing it to her.

She dutifully put it in her mouth.

“There now; that’s a good girl,” Sparks said. He folded his knife and set it and the ginger next to Mary on the seat.

Considering the seat’s lack of cleanliness, Anna picked up both items and held them on her lap, even though they had been lurking in Sparks’s pockets for days before this. It was something she could do under the circumstances rather than feeling helpless.

Sparks then took the bucket back from James.

“Perhaps, Anna,” James said, “it would be easier for Sparks to sit next to Mary so he isn’t required to kneel the entire length of our journey today—or at least until Mary feels better, which hopefully will happen sooner rather than later.” He shot a kind smile at poor Mary. “But only if you’re willing to ride facing backward.”

“Willingly,” Anna said, relieved that now, at least, she felt as if she were actually being helpful.

She handed Sparks the ginger and carefully slid from her seat to sit next to James. Sparks then handed the bucket to Mary and shifted himself into Anna’s place. But just as Anna sat, the coach hit a huge rut, which sent her flying. Somehow James managed to wrap his arms around her before she fell and pulled her back into the seat.

After such a tumultuous beginning to the day, she welcomed the security of his arms and nestled a bit closer to him. She couldn’t help herself.

Fortunately, Sparks had managed to brace himself with his foot on the floor of the coach, so he’d been spared the same upheaval Anna had experienced.

“Ye managed that big bump well,” Sparks said to Mary, who had wrapped her arms around the bucket but wasn’t needing to use it at present. “Here’s another bit of ginger, me girl. I think we’s on to something.” He cut off another bit of ginger, and she slipped it between her lips.

They hit another bump.

And Anna was exceedingly grateful that she was safe in James’s arms.