Beyond a Doubt

chapter Fifty-One




Lucy talked a few more minutes. Every word made Bryce more proud. This was the woman he loved. Maybe he should tell her again. Alone in the woods where no one could interrupt. Besides, silence in the area of love only caused issues.

“Lucy—“

“Bryce—“

They said each other's names at the same time. A gentleman by nature, Bryce allowed Lucy to speak first.

“I was going to say, we should probably get some rest. Morning will come early. Once the sun rises, we will have to make plans for what to do. What were you going to say?”

Bryce hesitated. After a moment he said, “I was goin’ to say the same.”

Lucy stood. “Do you mind?”

With direction, he loosened her gown. She wiggled out of the corset. Then she removed the heavy frame from beneath the skirt, and set it upright on the ground.

While Lucy walked away for a bit of privacy, Bryce took a cover from Emissary’s back and draped it across the farthingale. A giggle from behind caused him to jump.

Lucy stood covering her open mouth.

With his hand outstretched toward the standing structure, Bryce said, “Yer shelter awaits.”

“Bryce, I cannot sleep in that thing.”

“Why not?”

“Why, smoke would gather and drive me out.”

“Hmm, a perplexing problem, to be sure. Perhaps if we added a door?” He rolled up the fabric in one section and created a wide opening.

“Nay, it still won’t do.”

“What’s wrong now?”

“Well, the fabric is too close to the fire. What if a spark flies upon the wind and ignites the material? Then I’ll go up in flames.”

“Hmm, another problem.” He lifted the entire framework and placed it at a distance away from the flames. “Now?”

“Now I fear I will freeze.”

Bryce realized she played a game. One he enjoyed immensely. Light banter with Lucy was better than all day on a Scottish hillside surrounded by bleating lambs.

“Then, me lady, what do ye suggest we do?”

She tapped her chin in thought, and answered, “Would it not be better to sleep as we did before? Like on our journey from the Highlands?”

“Ye mean side-by-side, where ye use my chest for a cushion and my body heat for warmth?”

“Aye.” The firelight caused her blush to burn more brightly.

“As ye wish.” He struggled to contain his delight.

At once he moved to fulfill Lucy’s desire. He removed the covering from the skirt frame, and laid it on the ground close to the glowing embers. Task complete, Bryce stretched out, opened his arms wide and waited for Lucy to lie down beside him. He pulled a cover over them as she snuggled her back against his chest and used her bent arm as a headrest.

The velvet of her gown rubbed at his arms, reminding him of her soft, smooth skin underneath the gown. He placed his finger in her hair, and smoothed it behind her ear in a repetitive motion. A sigh of contentment escaped her lips. Unwilling to remain silent, Bryce asked, “Why were ye in the Highlands, lass?”

Lucy covered a yawn then answered, “I make several trips a year to the Scottish court.”

“Why?”

“It is a great place to gather information.”

“Ye jest?”

“Nay, I do not. Since Mary was sent to live with Henry II here in France, words of conspiracy travel freely between the two countries. Father said ‘the best place to gather gossip is amongst friends’. And he was correct. The trips to Scottish keeps were most informative. No laird is satisfied with the thought of English rule. The Treaty of Greenwich, which promised Mary to Prince Edward, started all of it. Anyway, discontent breeds many tales.” She laughed. “The challenge was never hearing information, but distinguishing the rumor from fact and then finding a way to carry the message back. There are only certain matters which concern me, of course.”

Between yawns they discussed past methods used to carry messages. Bryce continued to stroke Lucy’s silken tresses as words slowed to a standstill and he realized the lass had fallen asleep.

A few moments later Lucy rolled over. Bryce rolled to his back. In her sleep she fluffed his chest like a pillow, and threw her long slender leg over his thigh, pinning him to the ground.

The sweet torture lasted the rest of the night. When the sun rose, Bryce wriggled free. He needed a douse in a stream of cool water.

Walking away from the sleeping lass, he was surprised to hear voices.

“I tell you they came this way.”

“How do you know? We didn’t follow them from town. We have seen no tracks because of the dark. So tell me how do you know?”

“Well, my esteemed leader—“

“Lose the sarcasm.”

“I can’t believe you found so many men willing to go along with your lie.”

“Pierre, must you keep talking.”

“Yes, I must.” A chuckle rent the morning air, disturbing the birds and causing them to take flight.

Bryce made sure he couldn’t be seen as he continued to listen.

“And to have the Admiral actually back down to you like that. That must have felt good. Imagine him believing you were the real thing. Royal soldier, indeed.”

“Shut up.”

“I want to know where you found all the uniforms and the men to fit them. Come on, share your secret.”

“I didn’t,” the man said, unable to hide the smugness.

“What?”

“You ninnyhammer, I am a real soldier. The Admiral has betrayed the trust of the Crown. It took nothing to convince a few of my friends that I was indeed on an errand from the King. Once I did that, they followed me willingly enough.”

“Clever. But I still don’t understand the point. Why go through so much trouble? You already know Lombard has the message. You already know what it says. You already disposed of Joshua. What could chasing down the feeble lass accomplish now?”

“You know nothing! Lucy took the note from my possession! If she gives it to the Admiral and the plot is thwarted, then my life is over.”

Bryce couldn’t control the swift intake of breath.

“Did you hear that?”

“Charles, what are you so worried about? If the lass even made it to Caen—“

“She was at the celebration.”

“So you say. If she attended the party, then your presence surely scared her away. She thinks you work for the King and are set to bring her in.”

“She would be partly correct.”

Bryce waited no more. True fear and confusion led him back to where Lucy slept.

With a stretch, Lucy sat upright. A smile played at her lips until she spotted his expression. “What’s wrong?”

“We must leave now,” he whispered, with a look over his shoulder.

Lucy must have sensed his urgency because she hastened to ready herself. Before she could put on the skirt frame he placed his hands upon her waist and hoisted her through the air.

He held his desire to run Emissary; the noise might alert their followers. Instead he instigated a slow walk. Once upon the road, they increased their speed and headed back to Caen.

****

Tomorrow was the day of Admiral Coligny’s announcement. Jean had paced until a worn spot appeared in the study rug. Word came that Gustav still resided in Caen. Jean was glad the man had disobeyed. The Admiral needed all the friends he could get.

“Jean, please do stop fretting.”

“I will discontinue my fretting as soon as you postpone the announcement.”

“I see no reason—“

He slapped the top of the desk. “There are plenty of reasons. What of the imposter from the celebration?”

“They must have had a complaint against Mademoiselle Lombard, nothing more.”

“Of course they had a complaint! She tried to save your life! The woman is the spy with the message.”

“Now, Jean, what a ludicrous statement.”

“Gaspard, listen to me. The original L.L. was Lucille Lombard’s father, Louis. When he passed, she must have picked up the torch. We know beyond a doubt that the lady takes several trips a year to Scotland. It has to be her. It is the only thing that fits.”

“But I thought Joshua—“

“Gustav, his sister, and Max have risked everything to discover the contact’s identity. Spalding knew nothing because he desired to know nothing. He was content to walk around town in his savvy clothes, be pursued by fawning women, and drop a message in our direction when it was convenient for him. But still he knew nothing of what really occurred and he didn’t care to know. Just as I fear you are now doing.”

“Jean! I’m shocked by your tone.”

“And I’m shocked by your insistence that the plot against your life is false.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It doesn’t matter? For all that is holy, don’t do this.”

The Admiral stood and left. Jean stared at the retreating form until his friend was no longer visible.

He had made his decision. No matter the consequences, the Admiral would declare Brazil a fit country for the French Protestants. He would stand up in defiance of the French leaders and in the process perhaps doom them all.