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Chapter 14

T he two days riding in the shabby coach were difficult ones. The vehicle was unable to travel at the same speed as the one le Touffe had driven, and more than one coach passed them on the road. James was certain his back and legs might never recover from his body being tossed to and fro and his bracing himself against each jerk and thump on the road from Orleans to Limoges. Granted, there were brief periods of time when the road had been decent enough, and James knew he wasn’t the only one who appreciated that respite, if the shifting and quiet groans from the others, especially the women, were anything to go by.

There were also the brief respites when Lafitte changed the horses. They didn’t last nearly long enough though.

Somehow, thanks to Sparks choosing to keep the remaining ginger they’d gotten, Mary had managed to quell her travel sickness for the most part, which James considered something of a miracle after witnessing her distress on the yacht and then again when they’d left Orleans. At least she had reached a point where she seemed able to determine how much she could eat without suffering afterward, although the ugly bucket got rinsed out frequently and stayed close by, just to be safe. James was relieved for poor Mary’s sake, certainly, but the seating arrangement they’d decided upon for Mary had allowed Anna to sit beside him, which made everything infinitely more bearable, at least for him, in his estimation.

James had also spent every opportunity he’d had as they’d traveled to Limoges trying to persuade Lafitte to take them onward to at least the next stop in Souillac. Finally, finally , when they’d reached Limoges, James had been able to convince Lafitte that the money he was offering for the extra two days Lafitte would be on the road would be worth it for him and his family back home.

It had been a large sum, thanks to the generosity of Schwarzenberg. Even so, there was no way to anticipate what still lay before them, and he needed to err on the side of caution. He would not ask Anna for money. No gentleman would.

When they entered the inn at Limoges, James asked about available transportation—just in case Lafitte changed his mind, heaven forbid.

“Oh, monsieur,” the innkeeper said after he’d called for a porter to take their bags to their rooms and had handed over the keys. “But no, do you not know?” The man was speaking in broken English, probably because he’d observed them speaking in English and was trying to be a helpful host. “Zee horses, zay are gone. Pfft! Taken by zee cavalry of Bonaparte.” He spit at the floor in disgust.

Apparently, the man was not an admirer of the exiled French leader.

“And my inn? Zee leaders, zay force me to let zem stay here, but do zay pay? No, monsieur! I am a businessman, but zay do not care. And zee horses? Gone. Commandeered, is zat zee vord? Oui . Or maybe maurade eez zee better vord. Zay leave only zee old nags and mules.” He shook his head and then pointed at the horses Lafitte was carefully overseeing being unhitched from the coach. “Ve take good care of zem, don’t you vorry.”

“ Merci , monsieur,” James said, although the innkeeper’s words did make him worry. If there were no horses here in Limoges, he feared there would be even fewer as they continued their journey south.

Thankfully, Lafitte was good to his word, and in the morning, they were once again on their way south. No one spoke at breakfast, although the innkeeper had had his cook provide them with a nourishing meal to send them on their way. And once again, they bounced to and fro inside the coach, even though James was certain Lafitte was doing his best to avoid the ruts in the road.

Then it began to rain.

It started out slowly but increased in strength, so Lafitte pulled the coach to the side of the road. James wiped away the steam building on the windows of the coach and saw Lafitte and his boy jump down from the box to don hooded cloaks and then climb back into the box.

They proceeded slowly onward.

Unfortunately, the rain became a downpour, and now they not only felt the ruts in the road, but the wheels also slipped in the mud, making Mary shriek and cling to Sparks and a pale Anna bravely hold on to the windowsill of the coach to support herself.

James slid closer to her and placed his arm behind her, grabbing the frame of the coach with his hand as he did so, and then he took her nearest hand in his free hand and braced his feet on the floor of the coach.

It wasn’t particularly romantic, owing to the women’s fear, but James relished Anna’s closeness just the same.

When they reached their first stop, instead of changing out the horses—since there weren’t any to be had—they stayed longer and rested their horses. They huddled near the fireplace of the coaching inn, drinking tea and trying to warm themselves while poor Lafitte and his boy tended to the horses. Every time the door to the inn opened, Anna turned to see who it was only to sigh and continue sipping her tea, as each wet and weary traveler entering the inn was a stranger and not her brother. It broke James’s heart to watch her.

Somehow, miraculously, the rain abated enough that Lafitte grudgingly decided the horses had rested enough to continue. They all piled back into the coach and set off, proceeding slowly due to the muddy, slippery roads, Lafitte and his son still wearing their cloaks and hoods in case the rain started again.

“The clouds appear to be breaking to the south of us,” Anna observed quietly.

“Yes,” James said. “That means the worst of the storm should be behind us.” He offered her the most encouraging smile he could give her.

“We’re not going to make it to our next planned stop in time, though, are we?” she asked, still keeping her voice low.

James glanced at Sparks and Mary, who seemed to be in their own quiet conversation, which was just as well. “No,” James replied. “But the innkeeper told me that with what daylight we have remaining, we should be able to make it to the town of Brive.”

“And we are losing our coach and coachman when we reach Brive, aren’t we?”

“I’m afraid so. I doubt he will be willing to take us farther.”

“Because of the delay due to the weather,” Anna said with a nod of understanding. “You haven’t told me why we rested these horses instead of changing them, only that we did.”

James sighed. “There are few horses remaining in the south of France that weren’t seized by the French cavalry,” he said at last.

“What?” Anna exclaimed, which drew the attention of Sparks and Mary. When she realized she’d alarmed the others, she took a deep breath and smiled at them. “Pardon me for my outburst,” Anna said with a feigned smile, although she gave no further explanation.

Mary and Sparks looked suspiciously at her—and at James—and then resumed their conversation after receiving reassuring nods from both James and Anna.

“We will have to be enterprising when we reach our next stop,” James whispered, “so, if you believe in prayer, now might be a good time to do so.”

“I do, and I have been this entire time,” she whispered with solemn conviction.

His vicar of a brother would be proud of her. “As have I,” he replied.

At Brive, James discovered that there were indeed no coaches for hire and few if any horses to be had. What horses James had seen on the streets appeared to be jealously guarded by their owners, who looked at him with suspicion. He had spent the entire evening after their arrival in town asking every innkeeper and merchant he could find—who were few, as it was the Sabbath—for suggestions on how they could continue on to Toulouse, as Lafitte had insisted on returning home.

Lafitte had left that morning before James and the others had even risen from their beds—undoubtedly to avoid encountering James’s continual requests that he take them to Toulouse—and James had been unable to sleep, so he’d actually arisen early.

James began walking up and down the main streets of Brive, hoping to encounter shopkeepers beginning their day or farmers bringing their fares into town to be sold.

“ Non ,” he heard over and over. “ Non, monsieur . Je suis désolé, mais non. ”

I’m sorry, but no. James sat on a bench outside a small shop, disheartened, wondering how he was going to face Anna and the others.

A bearded older man in ragged clothes shuffled down the street and tipped his cap at James as he passed, drawing James out of his downcast thoughts. “ Bonjour ,” the man said in a gravelly voice.

“ Bonjour ,” James replied. The old man was the first person to speak to James before James had spoken to them this morning. Despite doubting that this ragged man could help, James decided there was no harm in asking for a moment of his time. “ Pardon, un moment de votre temps, s’il vous pla?t? ” he asked.

“ Oui? ” the man asked.

James laid out their situation to the old man and how they must still make their way to Toulouse, and the man clucked and shook his head at the details James shared. The man, who had introduced himself as a Monsieur Durand, scratched at his scruffy chin in thought but said nothing.

“Perhaps you would like to meet the others?” James asked the man in French. “Perhaps you will join us for breakfast?” He had no idea why that specific invitation had occurred to him; it hadn’t come to mind with any of the other citizens of Brive he’d encountered, either last evening or this morning. Perhaps it was the man’s poor clothing or the fact that he’d greeted James when the others hadn’t. James wasn’t sure.

“ Ah! Merci! ” Durand replied with a smile that brightened his whole face.

James truly hadn’t expected the man to accept the invitation, and belatedly, James realized it would keep him from continuing his search for some sort of transport for them.

Ah well.

They eventually arrived back at the inn, James matching his pace to the older man’s shuffling walk, and they found Anna and the others already breaking their fast. He also noted that none of them seemed particularly happy; they must certainly be aware that Lafitte was gone.

They all looked as one at James when he entered with Monsieur Durand, and he could see the glimmer of hope in their eyes until they took in Durand’s appearance and undoubtedly realized he wasn’t the sort of individual who had a coach in his possession.

“My friends, allow me to present Monsieur Durand,” James said to the others, pasting a genial smile on his face as they rose from their seats to greet James and his guest. “Monsieur Durand, puis-je vous présenter Lady Anna Clifton, Monsieur Thomas Sparks, et Mademoiselle Mary—” And then he realized he didn’t know Mary’s last name.

“Jones,” Sparks piped up, obviously listening carefully despite not understanding the language. “Mary Jones.”

Mary curtsied at Monsieur Durand.

“ Enchantée ,” Monsieur Durand replied.

Sparks retrieved a chair from one of the other tables so Durand could be seated with them, and Durand smiled and nodded at the others as he sat with a murmured “ merci .” The serving girl eyed him suspiciously but left and returned with utensils and hot tea for the new arrivals.

“I was explaining to Monsieur Durand that we are in need of conveyance to Toulouse,” James said. “Although I doubt he can help us, as no one else I have encountered thus far has been able or willing to do so, I invited him to join us; I’m glad to see that the invitation was well received by all of you, despite our current hardship.”

“’Tis a difficult situation, to be sure,” Sparks said. “But one can always help a person in need.”

Durand choked a bit on the tea he was sipping. When James glanced at him, he shrugged. “ Chaud ,” he muttered.

James nodded in understanding. “Hot,” he replied so the others would understand Durand’s reaction.

Food for James and Durand arrived in short order, and soon everyone was too busy eating to say much, but the mood was gloomy, despite attempts to make Durand feel welcome.

When they finished breakfast, James felt the weight of finding transportation for them heavy on his shoulders. He stood to excuse himself from the others, disheartened that he hadn’t even had an opportunity to reassure Anna.

Durand stood when James did. “ Merci de m’avoir permis de me joindre à vous ce matin, ” he said, offering his hand to Anna.

Anna took the old fellow’s hand, apparently picking up on the word merci . “You are entirely welcome, Monsieur Durand,” she said, and even if Durand hadn’t understood a word she’d said, the sentiment must have translated well enough if the smile on his face was anything to go by.

“Toulouse, non ?” Durand asked Anna, gesturing with his head in the direction of the street.

“Yes, to find my brother. He was reported wounded and missing in action, and no one knows if he’s dead or alive. He’s my only remaining family, you see. I have traveled to France because I must do all that I can to find him or to find out what happened to him.”

James was about to remind her that she was speaking English to Monsieur Durand and that he wouldn’t understand what she was saying when Durand raised his hand and silenced James.

“I understand, Lady Anna, only too well,” Monsieur Durand said in perfectly intelligible English.

Anna’s mouth dropped open. She looked at James only to see that he looked as stunned as she felt.

Monsieur Durand shrugged.

What is it about the French and shrugging their shoulders? Anna thought briefly.

Why that had been the first thought to cross her mind, she couldn’t explain, for obviously, her first thought should have been Durand speaks English? immediately followed by And how is it that in a small town in southern France, we have the good fortune to encounter someone who appears to speak fluent English?

“You have been keeping a rather large secret from me, monsieur, even if we have only just met,” James said—in English, naturally.

Monsieur Durand shrugged again. “There is a right time and a wrong time to share information, is there not, Monsieur Jennings?” he said. “I think perhaps you know this as well as anyone.”

Anna watched James’s brow furrow.

This time, rather than shrugging, however, Monsieur Durand took another sip of tea. “I am known in Brive,” he said. “We protect each other here, and we do not share information readily. We have reason for this, you see, after we suffered so much from La Maraude . When strangers come to our door, we ask the questions, and then we share what we learn with each other.”

“ La Maraude ,” James repeated.

“ Oui ,” Monsieur Durand said. “And so you see, your search for a way to travel to Toulouse swiftly reached my ears.”

“Because you are ... ?” James asked.

Anna wondered what La Maraude meant.

“I am a simple man who has dedicated his life to France and to the people here. They trust me, and I trust them,” Monsieur Durand said.

“I don’t understand,” Anna said, finally deciding she must speak up and ask her questions herself. “What is La Maraude ? And where did you learn such excellent English?”

“ Merci , Lady Anna,” Monsieur Durand said with a nod of thanks. “As a young man and owing to my education, I was privileged to travel with French diplomats during times of great struggle with Britain, when we were allies of the Americans. It enabled me to learn English. But I fear I do not speak English as well as I used to, so your words are kind.

“This all occurred many years ago, and I returned to my village with the intent of living out my years in peace. But then came our hero, Napoleon ”—he nearly spat the emperor’s name—“who thought to take Spain, so he demands our grain for his troops. But that is not enough for Napoleon—no, he must take our young men, our old men, our women and girls, in the Levée en masse. And our young men die too young, and our old men see too much, and our women and daughters work too hard and suffer in foul ways for someone else’s victories.”

Anna tore her eyes from Monsieur Durand and briefly looked at James. His face was racked with pain, obviously moved by Monsieur Durand’s words.

“But I say too much,” Monsieur Durand said.

“Not at all, monsieur,” James replied. “I am a diplomat, and the struggle to find peace among the countries involved is not for the faint of heart. I, too, have seen more than I wish to remember.”

“And I have suffered my own losses at the hands of Bonaparte and those who would follow him,” Anna said. She didn’t understand the politics involved, but she knew what it was to lose her family and possibly her home, owing to the selfish desires of others.

“I see that you understand, Lady Anna,” Monsieur Durand said. “And with the recent battles to our south and the retreat to the north, we suffer again from La Maraude . The armies who pass through take what they want. Our grain goes again, our remaining horses are stolen. And so now we fight back in our own little way, non ? We have learned, you see, to hide our grain, to hide what few horses we still have. It is not an easy task, and we cannot protect it all, but we keep some, and for us, it is a victory.

“And so, my friends see you arrive in our little Brive needing horses, needing a coach, needing our food and shelter, and we wonder and worry. Ah, but you are English, and the English helped defeat Bonaparte, so what are we to think? We watch, and I am asked to speak to you as a broken, old man who has nothing. And what do you do? You invite me to eat. You make no demands.”

James’s head dropped to his chest.

“Monsieur?” Monsieur Durand asked.

“You spoke to me first,” James said, his voice breaking. “You were the only person to have done so, and so I felt moved to invite you to join us.”

Monsieur Durand crossed himself and kissed the crucifix hanging around his neck. “Ah, but this is Providence, non ?” he said.

“Oh, James!” Anna exclaimed, clasping her hands at her breast as she smiled at him. She turned back to Monsieur Durand. “Yesterday, when our coachman left us to return home, James—Monsieur Jennings—suggested we pray, although I have been praying since I received word that my brother was missing. And while I’m not sure what we will yet face or what we will discover at the end of all this, you have shown us that we are in God’s care. And for that, I am truly grateful!”

“Now,” Monsieur Durand said, “let us see what we can do to get you to Toulouse, oui ?”

“Oh, yes!” Anna exclaimed before unceremoniously throwing her arms around Monsieur Durand’s shoulders and hugging him tightly.

James very nearly threw his own arms around Monsieur Durand at the same time Anna did hers, but he managed, just barely, to hold on to a small bit of restraint. After James had searched for transportation all last evening and then again this morning, Monsieur Durand’s offer to assist was a godsend; Anna was entirely correct about that. How else could one explain meeting a man in such a small French village who spoke fluent English, who was keenly aware of the politics in the world in which they now lived, and who understood the grief Anna was feeling?

It was nothing short of a miracle.

That wasn’t to say the miracle didn’t have its set of drawbacks, James soon discovered.

He and Monsieur Durand left the others at the inn, but not before Sparks and Mary returned to their rooms to set about packing and Anna pledged to lend them a hand, which was another aspect of Anna that only made James love her more. She didn’t stand on ceremony or status, and the farther they traveled into France, the more she seemed to adopt the French republican spirit of class equality.

The way she’d openly hugged Monsieur Durand ...

They walked the few blocks Monsieur Durand indicated to a large building that looked to house a blacksmith’s shop in at least part of it—although James doubted the blacksmith needed that large of a space.

When they passed through the shop’s open doors, open to allow fresh air inside so the bellows could keep the fire blazing in the forge, James quickly glanced about while Monsieur Durand walked over to the smith, who set his tools aside and wiped his brow with the sleeve of his shirt. Durand spoke quietly to the smith, who glanced at James periodically.

In addition to the forge and its equipment and tools, the building housed a wagon. James let out a sigh of resignation, for this, he was sure, was to be their conveyance going forward, and he didn’t relish the idea a single jot. All the same, he walked over to it to give it a better look.

It was a supply wagon; the sort Napoleon’s troops used to carry baggage and supplies along the route from battle to battle. The soldiers would also have used it—as Monsieur Durand had said—to hold items taken from the French citizens since the soldiers relied upon Napoleon’s directive of La Maraude to supply troops with food, clothing, or whatever else they might need.

The wagon appeared to have needed repairs, which would undoubtedly explain why it had been left in Brive. The repairs to it, however, appeared to be only enough to make it useful and not necessarily to get it back to its original form. And while supply wagons usually had a canvas cover to keep munitions and supplies dry, this particular wagon didn’t appear to have a cover or even the spines required to keep a cover in place.

James closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, reminding himself that at least it was a form of transport. It was wholly inelegant, even when compared to their last conveyance, but it was something , and he didn’t feel they had the right to press Monsieur Durand for something better—if indeed this was the vehicle Durand was intending to offer.

If this was the miracle, James would try to be grateful for it.

Monsieur Durand stepped next to James, drawing him out of his morose thoughts. The blacksmith was by his side.

“She is not pretty, I know,” Monsieur Durand said. “But she is sturdy.”

“ Merci ,” James replied, not knowing what else to say.

Monsieur Durand began speaking in French to the blacksmith. “See? I told you they would not look down upon the gift but would be grateful.” He nodded his head in emphasis.

“But we must pay for the wagon,” James answered in French, watching the blacksmith’s eyes widen at his use of the local language. “And for any horse you may wish to sell along with it. We must insist upon it.”

Monsieur Durand’s eyebrows rose as if to say, “You see?” to the blacksmith once again.

“We have a few horses,” Monsieur Durand said. “Not the finest stock after La Maraude , but if you will allow my friend here to travel with you to Toulouse, with your money, he will be able to buy a better wagon and possibly better horses to bring back to Brive.”

“You are certain of this?” James couldn’t help but ask.

“ Oui , for there are horses that were injured in battle, and we are confident the people did what they could to heal the ones that could be saved. We hear things about Toulouse, you see, and it is a much bigger place than our little Brive. We are quite certain, monsieur.”

“Then, I am most grateful, Monsieur Durand and Monsieur ...”

“Villard,” the blacksmith replied.

“Villard,” James repeated with a courteous smile. “I shall go and inform the others that we will leave soon. As we are traveling with two women, I would ask your assistance in finding ways to make the wagon more comfortable during the journey. After I give them the good news, I shall bring my fellow traveler, Sparks, back with me to assist.”

He shook hands with Monsieurs Durand and Villard and turned to leave, but Monsieur Durand grabbed his elbow and stopped him. “Monsieur,” the older man whispered, “I hope you have weapons, for the way into Toulouse may hold brigands and ne’er-do-wells. There are those passing through our little Brive both north and south whom we do not trust.”

“I have not told my fellow travelers,” James replied just as quietly, “but I would not have considered undertaking this journey without my pistols. I am a diplomat by trade, and I am also not a fool.”

Durand and Villard nodded to each other in approval.

James then set off for the inn, hoping he would be able to convince the others that their best travel solution for the remainder of the journey was going to be a rather shabby supply wagon.

He honestly couldn’t believe he was going to be informing the titled daughter of an earl that they would be traveling without even the comfort of an actual seat. He wondered if he should try to ask more of the town’s citizens ... but then decided against it. The fact that Villard hadn’t even questioned Durand’s offer of the wagon added to Durand’s standing in the town, and his easy use of English in such a remote place assured James that the people here were truly doing what they could to help.

Even so, he didn’t relish the conversation—or the journey—that was to come.

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