Chapter 5

A nna couldn’t be more grateful to finally reach Calais and plant her feet on solid ground again. Once they had all disembarked from the yacht, Mr. Jennings offered to escort her, Sparks, and Mary to the inn where he and his associates usually stayed when traveling back and forth from France to England. She reluctantly accepted his offer.

Once he had made arrangements for them with the owner, Monsieur Blanc, Mr. Jennings took Anna aside. “Will you join me for a moment?” he asked.

Anna was tired, her clothes stank, and all she wished to do was change into something clean and then rest. “Very well,” she said instead, then chided herself for not telling the irritating man no.

He began to lead her into the room reserved for meals, but then grimaced and seemed to change his mind. “Let’s step outside instead, shall we?” he said.

Of course they should go back outside, Anna thought, feeling irritated. It would be awful to wear her soiled clothing anywhere near people who might be eating.

He led her away from the entrance. “I believe we are sufficiently isolated now that if you are willing, I wish for you to share your reasons for traveling to France unaccompanied. I admit to being curious, and while I realize it is not my right to know, having no connections to you, you stand before me as a lady alone in a foreign land. As such, I stand ready to offer my assistance.”

Anna was tired of Mr. Jennings’s obvious judgment of her. He was right; she didn’t owe him any explanation, but she felt challenged and defensive. “Very well,” she said, “since you asked: My mother died in an accident while riding with my father eight years ago. Papa was gravely injured, and we feared we would lose him, too, but he survived, though he never fully recovered. This winter, my eldest brother passed away, and then my only remaining brother, Avery, was reported missing and presumed dead. Papa died after receiving word about Avery. It became too much for him to endure. And now I intend to find Avery on my own.”

“Lady Anna—” he began but then stopped. Wise man.

She continued her explanation. “If my only other brother is not found, and quickly, too, our family estate will pass to an unseemly relative. I cannot remain there with him in possession of my father’s lands and titles; he is loathsome and not to be trusted. As a result, I will be homeless.”

“Ah,” Mr. Jennings said. It was all he said, thankfully.

“I realize this journey will be exceedingly challenging and may ultimately be fruitless, but I cannot allow myself to believe that Avery is dead, even though I realize that the chance that he is still alive is a meager one.”

“There will surely be a plausible explanation for the lack of information,” Mr. Jennings said. “Communication can be slow to arrive after a battle, and priorities are given to relocating the regiment, depending upon the strategies of the military leaders. Perhaps you merely needed to wait a few weeks more for your answers.”

“Would you sit patiently by, waiting to learn if your loved one was dead or alive?” she asked. “When his inheritance and your entire family’s legacy was at stake?”

Mr. Jennings gave her a serious look. “No, I daresay I wouldn’t,” he said at length.

“Trust me, I know there are hardships ahead. But I will not willingly see my family home left in the selfish hands of Ambrose Harcourt-Clifton. If the deed were left to others to find Avery, Ambrose would mortgage Clifton Hall to the hilt and sell all its goods to pay off his debts and support his indecorous lifestyle. I am the only one who can do something, who can search for Avery, and so I must , and I will .”

Now that she’d started, she seemed unable to stop, so she told him about her search for information from Avery’s headquarters and Lord Bledsoe’s inability to learn anything at the London Foreign Office. “I did everything I could conceive of doing in England. I must now take my search to France. It may be in vain, Mr. Jennings, but I must do it. I owe it to my family and to Avery.”

“Lady Anna,” Mr. Jennings began, and then he paused. His countenance was serious, and she prepared herself for another setdown and lecture on the foolishness of undertaking such a journey with only a pair of servants in tow. “Lady Anna,” he said again, his dark-brown eyes riveted on her own.

It was a look that set her aflame.

She lowered her eyes.

James was ashamed. He didn’t consider himself someone who made rash judgments about people. As one of eight siblings, he’d learned long ago how to listen and see both sides of an argument, which had only helped to prepare him for his career in the legal profession. Listening, taking in all the facts, and his skill with languages had made him a useful member of Castlereagh’s inner circle and the Foreign Office.

However, intrigue and political jousting between the sovereigns wishing to join the Sixth Coalition had made James suspicious of others’ motives. His time spent in Paris and Vienna, among other places, had shown him how hypocritical the ruling classes could be—indulging in balls and routs, wearing jewels and the most stylish of clothing, flattering themselves, all while their citizens struggled in poverty and despair.

He’d been entirely wrong about her. While she’d looked light enough to float away on a breeze, she had faced down the blowing winds and billowing seas, determined to search for her brother. She hadn’t flinched when her maid had become ill and her clothing had taken the brunt of it.

And now ... strands of her hair, loosened by the sea winds, tempted James to wrap them around his fingers to brush against his cheek. Her lips, he’d observed, could be a straight line of defiance or full and soft and utterly tempting—

James took a deep breath to regain his composure and tried to find the words that conveyed his thoughts. “I am traveling to Paris myself, so I hope you will allow me to accompany you and your servants there. We will most likely need to spend the night here in Calais to make further travel arrangements, and once we arrive in Paris, we will need to register with the government, informing the officials that we are in the country. Did you know that?”

“No,” she said, her eyes serious. “Thank you, Mr. Jennings.”

Of all things, her short, quiet reply to his question only undid him further, and he realized he didn’t wish to leave her side. What a dilemma he had brought upon himself! He had been determined to avoid relationships and romance while working with the foreign secretary, and now all he wished to do was help Lady Anna Clifton and, hopefully, earn her favor.

Blast, blast, blast!

James could hear Osbourne now.

“What do you mean?” Osbourne would say. “What do you mean you plan to leave me on my own once again? All so you can play nanny to a young woman while she traipses about the French countryside looking for someone who is most likely dead?”

Those would be nearly the exact words Osbourne would use—at a distinctively high volume—once James met up with him in Paris in the next day or two.

But what else was James to do? He knew that letting Lady Anna continue on through France unaccompanied would be impossible for him to tolerate. He would spend every waking moment concerned for her welfare were he not there to be sure of it himself.

He escorted Lady Anna back into the inn and showed her to her room and then returned to sit in the brasserie of the inn. It was a comfortable place, and James knew his three “companions,” as it were, would find rest here from the travails they’d experienced while crossing the Channel.

The Duke of Aylesham kept a large suite of rooms in Paris for all of their use. James had a room, and he knew Osbourne would be there, and James intended for his three companions to stay there, too, when they arrived. The sooner he dashed off a note to Osbourne to inform him that he would be arriving within the next day or so with traveling companions in tow, the better.

He ordered tea and then stood and crossed the brasserie to where the owner was greeting customers and supervising the service they received.

“ Bonjour , Monsieur Zhennings,” Monsieur Blanc said. “’Ow may I ’elp you today?” he added in English with a thick French accent.

James knew and trusted Monsieur Blanc and his wife. The couple was not loyal to Bonaparte. “Perhaps some paper and ink?” James asked.

“ Oui , Monsieur Zhennings, zees way,” Monsieur Blanc said, gesturing toward the door that led to his private office. He then delved into his writing box and produced paper, ink, and a pen and once against gestured—this time toward his office chair—indicating that James may sit.

“ Merci ,” James said. He sat and hurriedly wrote his letter to Osbourne. Once he had finished the letter, he blotted and folded it, and Monsieur Blanc produced his own sealing wax and seal for James to use.

“I need to have this delivered as quickly as possible to Monsieur Osbourne,” James said. “Our rooms, as you know, are near the Paris Opera on Rue de Richelieu.”

“ Bien ,” Monsieur Blanc said, taking the sealed missive. “I shall see zat eet eez done.”

“ Merci beaucoup ,” James said, shaking Monsieur Blanc’s hand before returning to his table in the brasserie.

Lady Anna walked into the brasserie in the next moment, spied James, and stopped in her tracks. She had changed out of her soiled clothes and straightened her hair, and she was utterly lovely to behold. He reminded himself that, for propriety’s sake, for her sake, he was honor-bound to keep a respectable distance between them, despite the surprising urgings of his heart.

“Please join me, Lady Anna,” he said, rising to his feet. “I imagine you may be hungry after the toils of the day. Something light, perhaps.” He motioned to the serving girl, who was at a nearby table. “ Une autre tasse de thé, s’il vous pla?t ,” he said to her. She nodded and left. “I asked her to bring you a cup of tea,” he told Lady Anna as he assisted her into a chair. “They should be bringing it at any moment with pastries I ordered.”

“Thank you,” she said. She folded her hands in her lap.

What to say next? How was he to go about earning her favor after the harsh words he’d spoken before? And how was he to maintain his distance from someone he found so utterly attractive even though he had just recommitted himself to maintaining that distance?

Being near her was apparently affecting his ability to think clearly, too, blast it all.

“Perhaps after we’ve taken tea, you might join me for a walk around Calais,” he said before his brain could stop the words from being uttered.

She didn’t respond immediately but seemed to ponder his invitation at length. If she didn’t wish to join him—

“Thank you,” she said. “I believe I should like to stretch my legs a bit, now that they are working normally again.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, trying not to envision what Lady Anna’s legs might actually look like since she’d mentioned them.

So much for maintaining his distance.

Thankfully, the serving girl arrived with tea, two cups, and plates, and Madame Blanc herself brought out a fine assortment of pastries.

“I ’eard you ver vis us again, Monsieur Zhennings,” Madame Blanc said. “Ah! I see you ’ave brought a lovely lady friend vis you zees time.”

“ Oui ,” he replied. “Lady Anna, may I present our hostess, Madame Blanc. Madame, Lady Anna Clifton.”

“How do you do?” Lady Anna said. “I’m sorry—my French is not very good.”

“Sink nossing of eet,” Madame said. “Ve vill take good care of you and your servants; anysing for a friend of Monsieur Zhennings.”

“ Merci beaucoup ,” James replied.

“Thank you—er, merci ,” Lady Anna said. “Truly, I am so grateful.”

Madame Blanc smiled and then returned to the kitchen of the brasserie.

Lady Anna poured tea into a cup. “Milk? Sugar?” she asked James politely.

“One sugar,” he said, mesmerized again by the intense blue of her eyes. Then he helped himself to an eclair and stuffed half of it into his mouth in one bite. Since he didn’t trust what he might say to her next, it was better to appear the graceless fool.

“ Dear Lady Anna, ” he might say, for example. “ You are beginning to enthrall me. ”

Anna selected a pastry and took a small bite. It was delicious, which shouldn’t have surprised her since the French were known for their baked goods—even Anna knew that much about the French. She took another bite.

“I have written to my associate, Osbourne, informing him of my— our —arrival in Calais,” Mr. Jennings said. “The journey to Paris from here is at least two days, depending upon the horses. After a tumultuous Channel crossing, I thought you—or, more specifically, your maid—might appreciate an additional day to rest. Also, in my letter, I asked Osbourne to see what he could learn of your brother’s whereabouts.”

“You really needn’t change your plans on our account,” Anna said with a touch of bravado, though she wasn’t sure she believed her own words. Watching Mr. Jennings converse in French with the serving girl had been a relief and an additional realization of the challenges to come, not that she wished Mr. Jennings to know that. “I knew we would encounter difficulties along the way and were— and are —willing to face them for Avery, despite your offer to escort us to Paris.”

“I see,” James said softly with a slight nod of his head. “May I ask you some questions, then, about some of the encounters you may face?”

“Certainly,” Anna said, not really meaning it, not after the round of questions he’d asked her earlier. “Better to have you raise the questions now than encounter them later without preparation.”

“True enough,” he said. “First of all, how do you plan to obtain information when you don’t speak the language?”

“As I said before, I’m certain many of the French citizens are skilled enough in English to be of help,” she replied.

“Ah,” he said, his dark eyes piercing her very core. “Very well. Which of these English-speaking French citizens you are bound to find are loyal to Bonaparte? Which are loyal to the French king? Which support a free republic, post-Revolution? Which French citizens are grateful that so many armies are cur-rently in their homeland fighting battles and seeing their villages destroyed or their families displaced while these battles occur? How are you intending to arrange for travel? What is your destination? How will you—”

“I see your point,” Anna said, relieved that he stopped speaking at her interruption. She felt utterly overwhelmed. She stared blankly at her teacup and pastry, neither of which looked the least bit tempting now. How was she really to do what needed to be done to find Avery when so many obstacles lay before her?

James gently placed his hand on her shoulder, startling her out of her worried thoughts. She turned to look at him.

“And that is why,” he said in a low voice, his eyes burning her now, “I wrote to Osbourne. I didn’t intend on telling you this, but I informed him that he may be on his own after we arrive in Paris. You see, I cannot in good conscience allow you to travel unescorted through a country I happen to know fairly well on a mission I actually find I am beginning to admire. You are putting yourselves at risk, and I can help mitigate that risk. I do not know what the outcome of your search will be, but I will assist you in getting the answers you need.”

Tears Anna couldn’t control welled up in her eyes and spilled over. “Oh, Mr. Jennings, I don’t know what to say! But you have responsibilities of your own. Great responsibilities.”

“True enough. But you have already heard me refer to my sister, whom I refused to leave on her own when she married the Duke of Aylesham,” he said as he slipped his hand into his pocket and retrieved a handkerchief, which he handed to her. “I also have a brother, Lucas, who served in the military. The battles got rather fierce in Spain, and Lucas faced death there. I vividly recall the weeks my family anxiously wondered whether Lucas was alive or dead. And then, when he did return home, I witnessed the wounds to his soul. If I could have spared him that pain, I would have. And if I can help you find out what happened to your brother, it will help me atone in some way.”

Anna studied James’s face, seeing him in an altogether different light. His eyes were still intense from the passion he appeared to be feeling, yet there was also a gentleness there that he hadn’t exhibited before.

“I don’t know why I told you that last bit,” James said. “I don’t think I realized it myself until I spoke the words aloud.” He looked rather baffled.

“Mr. Jennings,” Anna said. “I am truly grateful for your words.”

He looked embarrassed now. “Would you care to stroll through Calais with me now?” he said, appearing to wish to change the subject.

“I would, thank you, Mr. Jennings,” she replied.

He assisted her to her feet—but not before stuffing the other half of his eclair into his mouth.

She couldn’t help but smile at that.

James’s stroll with Lady Anna was pleasant and frustrating.

They walked side by side—James clasped his hands behind his back—and were silent for a while. They passed a few people on the streets, he and Lady Anna nodding and greeting them along the way.

Lady Anna.

In all the times James had traveled to France with Osbourne and Aylesham, he’d never once poured out his thoughts—feelings—regarding his brother Lucas’s experiences during the siege at Badajoz, Spain, to anyone. All had ended well for Lucas—he was a happily married man now, settled in his new life after leaving the military—but he had shared what he’d seen with James and only a very few others, and the scenes he’d described were horrific: death, rape, starvation. Angry, desperate men who had been turned into ravening wolves. Many enlisted men had been there only for their promised wage and had been no better than thieves when they had lived in Mother England.

He was sure Lady Anna couldn’t fathom the desolation of humankind that invariably followed war.

They turned a corner and were now strolling down the Rue de la Paix toward église Notre-Dame , the Church of Our Lady. James wasn’t Roman Catholic—his brother Isaac was a vicar for the Church of England, for heaven’s sake—but he respected the faith of those who would gather here on the Sabbath, and the building with its tall tower almost seemed to be calling to them now. It exuded a dignity and spirit that spoke of peace and strength and reverence.

“Perhaps we can go inside and sit for a moment or two,” James said. “If you’d like.”

“I would like that very much,” Lady Anna said. “Thank you.”

He opened the door for her and let her enter first and then followed her as she walked up the aisle toward the front of the chapel. About two-thirds of the way up, she sat, so he sat next to her.

She folded her hands in her lap and bowed her head.

Here was another side of Lady Anna that James hadn’t anticipated. His family regularly attended the church where Isaac served. James supposed he took for granted that whomever he married would be a churchgoer too. But one didn’t precisely learn that about a young lady when dancing at balls or chatting at an assembly. One didn’t begin a conversation by saying, “Do you happen to be devoutly religious?” during the steps of a cotillion, for example.

Lady Anna, without meaning to, had pointed out aspects of James’s character in the short time he’d known her, which, again, had taken him by surprise. At the very least, he’d learned that he was judgmental, overly proud, and impatient when he’d always considered himself to be even-tempered, intelligent, and polite.

And now he was contemplating his faith.

Lady Anna quietly reached into her reticule and removed the handkerchief he’d given her earlier, then dabbed her eyes and nose with it.

Blast, she was weeping.

James placed his hand on hers, hoping his gesture would offer some comfort. “There now,” he whispered to her. “You have God with you in your cause.”

He had no idea why he’d said it; the words had come to him unbidden.

His action, while intended to be reassuring, now felt forward, so he let go of her hand and patiently waited for her to regain her composure. He wanted her to have the time she needed here in the chapel, so he studied the statues and paintings in the nave and altar, he watched the sunbeams filter through the windows, and he offered more than one prayer himself. Spending this quiet time here with Lady Anna felt different from anything he’d felt before when gathered with family and neighbors in the chapel at home.

Eventually, she dabbed her nose and nodded quietly at James that she was ready to leave. He assisted her to her feet, but he couldn’t resist placing a kiss—a reverent kiss, strangely enough—on her hand.

James had always been a believer, and after this afternoon’s walk, he was even more so. He believed they had been led to église Notre-Dame , for they had found peace and pause from their concerns here inside the church.

And James began to understand why the words love and worship were frequently spoken together.