Beyond a Doubt

chapter Forty-Eight




He ran his finger under his thick, hot collar. Unused to the role of center stage, Jean hoped the Admiral appreciated the effort.

When Gustav returned with the news that L.L. was not only a woman but a young woman, hopes of a message vanished.

How was it possible to depend on a female, so young, in such an important position? No way had a young lady delivered so many messages over such an extended time. What a preposterous idea. Someone clearly was trying to lead them away from the true spy.

It had taken hours of convincing for Jean to even believe the news. When he’d conceded, Gustav had explained how he had returned to France on the heels of L.L. and then she’d disappeared. For all intents and purposes, L.L. was lost to them. Gustav had returned to Jean brokenhearted.

Then Gustav had had another idea. Since the spy had disappeared, Gustav had suggested another way to draw out any ill-intent toward the Admiral. He’d proposed a celebration.

To keep people unsuspecting about the true intentions of the event, the party was arranged to honor someone other than the Admiral, which explained how Jean became the object of so much unwanted attention.

He took a sip of his drink and glanced around the room, but noticed nothing more than people enjoying free food and drink. If any here planned to harm the Admiral, they hid it well. The merriment in the room grated. If only he could slip—

“Where are you going?” asked Olga.

“If you must know, I’m going to the garden for a bit of fresh air. The heat in here is stifling.”

A tinge of laughter laced her voice as she answered. “I can’t imagine why.”

“Olga, why did I listen to Gustav? This whole thing is a terrible idea. Who is going to show up and enact harm in such a setting? Why, they would be escorted away to the Bastille at once for doing so.”

“My sentiments exactly,” came the Admiral’s voice from behind.

“Gaspard, I hate to argue with you, but this is not the same.”

“And why not? It seems the same to me. It is a large number of people impossible to watch and control, no? The same as next week’s event. No different.”

“But—“

“Jean, I understand your concerns, but you must understand my obligations. People are counting on me to protect their ideas, their way of life. I must not abandon them during their time. If I run, others will do the same. Then where will we be?”

Jean nodded, yet he silently disagreed. He knew the Admiral was walking into a trap; everyone knew it. Why couldn’t they convince the Admiral to wait for a safer time to make the announcement?

The Admiral walked away with a smile upon his face, extending his hand for guests to shake. He was truly a man of God and of the people.

“He already knows.”

“What did you say, Olga?”

“I said he already knows his life is in danger. But he also knows where he is headed when this life is over. We all make decisions to do certain things based on what we believe to be true. In this case, Gaspard knows that standing up for his faith is right regardless of the risk. This is his cross to bear.”

“But if he dies then—“

“The cause will continue. The work of God will never end. You know He doesn’t really need us or our assistance to accomplish His work.”

“Of course I know this, but—“

Her hand rested on his arm in comfort. “With you, everything has a reason it cannot be done. The Admiral understands his part is small, yet it is one piece of a whole. Remember each part of the body has a part to play. The body cannot move without the head, no?”

Olga’s points were sound. The woman held an understanding unlike most of her gender. But even with Olga’s rational arguments, Jean’s fears would not abate. Their only hope was that something unexpected would happen in their favor.

****

What luck! Perhaps it wasn’t luck entirely. Twisting in the tight, uncomfortable clothing, Bryce studied his surroundings. The atmosphere was littered with pompous, self-important people trying to make themselves appear different and stand out in the crowd.

That was kind of how he’d been discovered. Arrival on France’s coast had been daunting, to say the least. Nothing and no one had been familiar. Bryce had stood still in a moving crowd. All around him people hustled and bustled to known destinations while he rubbed his horse’s nose and stared into space.

Then without warning, someone had bumped him. The well-dressed man had stumbled over himself in apology. Bryce had assured him he’d suffered no harm, but the man hadn’t listened.

“I’m very sorry. It is this infernal celebration, you see? Do you see my hand? Do you see how it trembles with anxiety? Why, if you could see my heart, then you would see it pounding against my ribs, no? But of course you would. I’ve never been so uncomfortable in my own skin.”

The man had continued to talk, and Bryce had listened, trying to make sense out of what he’d heard. The sounds of a thousand different conversations, the screams of babes aching for release from their mother’s arms, all had vied for his attention. The man of means had looked at him then, really looked at him.

“I am keeping you from something, no?”

“Nay.”

“Forgive me, but do I detect a Scottish accent?”

“Aye.”

His hand had thrust forward in greeting. “May I be the first to say, welcome to France. I assume you have a place to stay.”

“Nay, not at the moment.”

“Shameful it is for someone of such extreme stature to remain homeless. This might ring a bit odd, but I feel I should offer you asylum.”

“Do ye always listen to yer feelings?”

A smile had tugged the corners of the man’s lips. “Not as much as I should. But there are always opportunities for restitution, no?”

Bryce hadn’t had to think about it long before he’d said, “I humbly accept.”

****

All these happenings had led him to his current position, attempting to avoid a room full of men. Their gossiping was ten times worse than any woman’s. Of course he avoided the women as well, because they only spoke about men. The situation was hopeless.

“Now you understand my predicament, no?” asked Jean.

Genuine laughter born from understanding escaped them both. “Aye, I guess I do.”

“Is this not ridiculous? A celebration in my honor. I’m still embarrassed by the thought.”

For some reason, Bryce had the notion Monsieur Jean Broussard expected a certain answer or action from him. Since yesterday when they’d met on the docks, Bryce had sensed Jean waited on something, but he wasn’t sure what.

“I hope you enjoy the celebration. Ah, look at the door. That is one of the perks of being honored that I might not tire of — the women. If you will excuse me.”

Bryce nodded.

Left on his own, Bryce watched Monsieur Broussard welcome the newest guests. The ladies of different sizes and shapes bounded up to Jean and dropped into a low curtsey, leaving one lass standing in the background alone.

Breath caught in his throat. With her eyes averted, Lucy had yet to notice his presence. A tall plant stood nearby and Bryce hid in its shadows.

The lass looked as beautiful as ever. Dark circles lay beneath her eyes, showing a lack of rest. Could Lucy be as distraught as he?

Still using the foliage to hide, Bryce watched Lucy present herself to Jean. Quite affectionate with his greeting, Monsieur Broussard kissed Lucy on the cheek. Blood rushed to her face as she attempted to move away.

Fortunately Jean released Lucy and allowed her to mingle with the other guests. Bryce exited to a private balcony, staying hidden behind long, thick drapes.

Lifting a corner of the heavy, rich fabric, Bryce watched the guests. Lucy headed straight for him. People stopped the lass, offering greetings. This made Lucy unable to continue in one direction for any length of time. When she approached the balcony, she turned so he faced her back.