Beyond a Doubt

chapter Forty-Seven




Sweat covered Bryce’s body. The liquid burned his eyes and caused his hair to stick to his head.

Stupid horse. Because of that animal, he slaved in the bowels of a ship that landed at every French port.

Resentment filled him as he continued to shovel. How lucky could one man be? At the precise moment, he traveled with a large group of English horses being transported to Caen, France. Bryce had been fortunate enough to secure a position taking care of said animals.

Stupid horse.

He mucked the stalls, carrying the refuse topside and throwing it overboard several times a day. He scattered hay. He brushed their slick coats. He delivered water to them. When would this be over?

Bryce almost believed the captain avoided Caen but that didn’t make sense. After a couple of days passed, the ship docked at the French port in question. The captain tried to convince him to stay on, but Bryce declined, leaving the ship as fast as possible.

The reins of his horse secure in his hand, Bryce walked into the street and studied the town. Now where did he start in his search for Lucy?

****

“What can we do?” asked Grace.

Lucy stared out the window of her French home. The house in France continued to be maintained, even in her absence. The maid, Grace, had once belonged to her paternal grandfather. After his passing she’d stayed on, assuring the house was ready in the event Lucy needed it.

The maid fluttered about, agitated. Of course she didn’t know the facts of the message, but she did know the Admiral had refused to see her mistress.

“How could the man dismiss you? Doesn’t he know you have something important to tell him? If your father was here, the Admiral would have bent over backward to see him. Why does a woman in the same position not call forth the same respect?”

A sigh escaped Lucy’s lips. How many times had she comforted the maid? Just because the maid spoke the truth didn’t mean they could do anything about it.

“You should send another request. How could he deny you again?”

Only a few days remained before the announcement that would place the Admiral in danger. Time was running out. More than one message had been sent to the Admiral and still every reply received refused her admittance to his presence.

Tonight there was a dinner to honor the Admiral’s friend, Jean Broussard. Lucy had arranged an invitation. In a few hours she would entertain with some of the most influential people in all of France. The pressure would be high to fit in and stay away from the Admiral, but she wouldn’t be listening to pressures tonight. Not even if it sent her to the Bastille would she relent.

The maid fussed and fumed verbally while she prepared Lucy. Covered by a French hood, her hair was arranged in a braid with a few escaping strands. She wore a gown of maroon velvet, with a low square neckline and gold braided trim. Comfortable slippers covered her feet.

“You look beautiful. Your grandfather would have been proud.”

Lucy brushed aside the praise offered by the maid as she gazed upon her own sad face reflected from the looking glass. Misery had been a constant companion since she’d left Bryce. Her pain was well deserved. Bryce would have no doubt followed her, perhaps to the ends of the earth, if she’d asked him.

With her chin propped in her hand, the clear glass showed her wrinkled nose and her pursed lips. The maid had squeezed Lucy's cheeks until the blood coursed through them.

The goal to draw the attention of the Admiral long enough to speak to him for a few moments should be successful. Grace had worked all afternoon to ensure that this would be possible and it seemed Lucy would not disappoint.

“Stand, Mademoiselle Lombard.”

Lucy complied. On point she spun, the wide dress trembling but remaining in place. The large framework underneath was uncomfortable but at the height of fashion. Fur-lined cuffs lay just above her wrist. A lady of means wouldn’t be caught dead any other way.

“You are sure to catch every eye in the house,” said Grace.

“There is only one eye I need to catch.”

“The man will have to be blind to miss you, my lady.”

“Thank you, Grace. You are too kind.”

Grace hurried to the window; excitement filled her tone. “Oh, my lady! The carriage has arrived. They must have sent you the best one. Gold edging, it has. And look, your very own footman.”

“Grace, grab my cloak.”

“Lucy, you must wait until I open the door, then you can come into the room and make a grand entrance.”

“Grace, I hardly think that is necessary.”

“But Mademoiselle, you must make them see you are royal. If you believe you are important, then all others will as well.”

Lucy realized it was easier to agree with Grace than to argue. The maid ran to the front door, stopping as a knock rang out on the other side. The maid straightened her dress then with an exaggerated flourish pulled the door open.

A young man on the other side bowed and said, “I’m here to pick up a Mademoiselle Lucille Lombard.”

“Mademoiselle will arrive momentarily.”

The carriage door flew open and a deep female voice yelled, “What is taking so long? The heat inside this box is unbearable.”

Lucy could see Grace’s mouth. Her jaw dropped as her mouth opened in shock. “There is no way my mistress is riding in that when it is all chocked full of other people. You may make a delivery and return for her.”

The young man at the door attempted to reply but instead stuttered and stammered.

“Well, young man, what have you to say for yourself? My lady deserves her own transport.”

“Beggin’ your pardon, but this is the carriage for all the unescorted females. They are to ride together for issues of safety.”

“Humph. If you ask me, they are all placed together so the old lechers can find them more easily.”

“Madam.” The young man sounded aghast.

The prepared entrance had been abandoned as Lucy stepped in before the situation became any more out of hand. “Merci. I would be honored to travel with these other ladies.”

A snicker and murmured words of, “I doubt it,” were expressed before the footman sealed his lips and led her down the stairs and into the waiting carriage.

Once inside, with skirts settled, Lucy braced herself for the sudden lurch into movement. As the wheels set into motion, a few of the other women spoke.

“These men have no regard. None at all, I tell you. How could they even think of placing this many women in one carriage? I’m in awe of their stupidity.”

“It is not so bad,” one woman replied, hiding behind a waving fan.

“Not so bad? Of course you would say that. You were not the first inside. If you were, then you would sing a different tune. Why, even my perfumed rag is soaked with perspiration.”

The woman dabbed at her ample bosom. It was exceptionally warm inside the carriage, and Lucy felt herself overheating within minutes.

“Am I the last?” she asked.

“Oh, let’s do hope so, for I see no place to put another.”

The other passengers concurred. The ride to the party gave ample time for Lucy to study her companions. The most vocal of the group was a lady whose sagging jowls wiggled with each turn. She wore feathers atop her head in a shifting plume. Her voice was loud and booming.

Another passenger was her exact opposite. Skinny in stature with sunken jaws and a pale complexion, the woman could be blown away by even the smallest puff of air. Each word from this one came out like the squeaking of a mouse.

And then there was the last individual. The quiet woman kept her face covered with a fan. From all Lucy could see, the woman looked to be of average build and of normal dress, yet in this carriage distinct in shyness and her silence.

As Lucy studied each woman, the loud one spoke. “I know who we are. We are sisters. But who are you?”

Lucy was taken aback by the suddenness of the comment. The skinny one replied, “How rude, dear sister.”

“How is it rude to inquire who I’m sharing breath with? Why, I dare say you wouldn’t think it a tad rude if the woman took out a dagger and ran us clean through!”

The skinny woman placed a fluttering hand to her heart. “Dear sister, inquiring is fine but not in such a manner. You know as well as I that no one of such character would be allowed to come to this party.”

For several minutes the argument continued. Lucy silently agreed with both in different ways. She would have gladly given her name had the rudeness of the tone gone unquestioned and the question of her character had remained out of play. As it was, she could find no way to slide in even one word.

Levels of frustration in the carriage mounted, until the lady behind the fan spoke in a calm, soothing, and even tone. The fan moved away in brief spurts, revealing a face of great beauty, the likes of which caused Lucy to go breathless.

“Sisters, there is no reason to continue with this argument. The constant bickering will only cause your skin to flush.”

“Why do you care? Once you enter the room, no one will even know we exist.”

Lucy heard the pretty one sigh. Jealousy oozed from the other siblings. Lucy pitied them all. None of them seemed particularly happy with their lot. Lucy understood their sadness all too well.

Before they could say more, the carriage came to a sudden halt. The footman opened the door and each lady exited. Lucy stepped out first and smoothed her skirt before glancing at the other passengers. They looked awestruck, staring past her with eyes wide, mouths open, and noises of delight and surprise. Lucy turned her head to see what had affected them so, and understood why.

A huge mansion sprawled before them. Green bushes and flowering plants decorated the outside. The cobble-paved road they stood upon led up to a set of perfectly molded marble stairs. The huge wooden doors opened and the sound of music drifted on the evening breeze. Conversation and laughter filtered through the open windows.

Not sure of the protocol, Lucy was glad when the talkative lady took the initiative. With laced arms, the four of them ascended. They reached the massive entrance, and a man in full regal dress announced their presence. No one in the room appeared to notice the new arrivals. For Lucy, this was both a blessing and a curse, for the sooner the Admiral noticed her, the sooner her work would be completed.

Once past the announcements, the three sisters blended into the crowd, leaving Lucy at a loss for what to do next. She scanned and assessed the people before her.

How many times had she played this same part, only on the other side? Never had she delivered the message. Never had she worried about getting the information to the person in danger.

Admiral Coligny shouldn’t be too hard to spot. But as Lucy surveyed the crowd, she realized her assumptions might be wrong. With so many important people in attendance, the possibility of finding the Admiral without causing undue attention might prove to be a real problem indeed.