Page 19 of A Fierce Wind

She glared at him beneath her furrowed brows. Only Freddie could accuse her of that and live. After all, he’d been the cause of the awful smell.

They followed the others up the steps to the entrance where Richard greeted them, his coloring a close rendition of his siblings’. Noble titles might have ended in France, but they were very much in use in England. To the world he was “Lord Torrington”, to his colleagues in Parliament, “Torrington”, but to his siblings, he remained “Richard”, the only member of the West family without a nickname, owing to his rather formal demeanor.

Standing at his side, his attractive wife, Anne, welcomed them with a warm smile and gracious words. “We’re so glad you are here. Do come in!”

Owing to her cheerful disposition, everyone called her “Annie”. Well, everyone save Richard, who called her “Anne”. She was, in all ways, the perfect complement to his staid and serious bearing.

When Zoé’s uncle introduced the princesse and her children, Annie’s kind face lit up. “Welcome to The Harrows,” she said. “We are delighted to have you as our guests. How relieved you must be to be here.”

“We are surely that,” said Madame de Montconseil with a sigh. “Not just to be out of France, mind you, but off the Channel and off the ship.”

“’Twas a bit of a rough crossing,” admitted Donet to Richard. “We were forced to deal with one of France’s warships.”

“What Oncle Jean means, dear cousin,” said Zoé, “is that while the guns were firing above decks, the women and children were relegated to the belly of the ship. I daresay ’tis not the place the princesse would have wanted to be.”

Without mentioning their soiled gowns, Annie turned to her husband. “Richard, I expect the ladies will want to change.”

Collecting himself, Richard said, “Yes, well—”

“Nora can show you to your chambers,” Annie said to the princesse. Nora, Tante Joanna’s former lady’s maid had, in the past ten years, become the housekeeper for The Harrows.

His impeccable attire undisturbed, The Harrows’ ever-proper butler, Carter, bowed. “Very well, my lady. I shall call her.” Hearing the respect in his voice, Zoé was reminded that Carter approved of his mistress, happy to have her in exchange for the more rebellious Lady Joanna West who he’d once served. Until she had married Zoé’s uncle, Joanna had acted as Richard’s hostess.

Freddie leaned in to Zoé. “I shall see you at dinner.” Then he traipsed off with her uncle and the earl toward the parlor. She could see no evidence that his shoulder pained him, but his being on deck during the battle had been a source of worry. What was he doing in the middle of guns blazing with one arm in a sling?

“The Prime Minister is coming here?” Freddie sputtered, nearly choking on his brandy.

“Tomorrow,” said Richard. “Fortuitous, no?” With a glance in Donet’s direction, he added, “I suspect he will be very interested to hear of your skirmish with the French warship.”

“I will be happy to oblige him,” said Donet cordially. “We French who fight a revolution run amok are happy to align with an England that provides shelter and aid to our émigrés. I will tell the Prime Minister whatever he wants to know. As for the Trajan, I was surprised myself to see her so far from France’s northwestern coast. Her home port is Lorient.”

Richard rose and poured another round of brandy for the three of them. “You mentioned the ship usually monitors the French coast, particularly the Vendée. It turns out that due to his frustration with the Prussians and Austrians in the war on the Continent, Pitt has a growing interest in that province.”

“He means to aid them?” asked Freddie, recalling d’Auvergne’s words but not realizing the interest went so high as the Prime Minister.

“Pitt is desperate to claim some success in France. If sending arms and supplies to the Vendée to equip a ready-made army would give him that, then yes, I expect he does.”

Donet, staring into his brandy, turned the glass in his hand. Was he thinking of Freddie’s new assignment and of Zoé’s part in it? Looking at Richard, Donet said, “The aid, though late in coming, will nevertheless be welcomed. The royalist army in the Vendée, or what is left of it, has sometimes been forced to fight with farming implements for weapons.”

“Yet the royalists in London tell me they are worthy fighters,” put in Richard. “That would appeal to the Prime Minister.”

“What is the occasion for his visit?” asked Donet.

“Now that is a bit peculiar,” said Richard with a thoughtful expression. “He sent word he would be in the area and wanted to call upon me. Something to do with the war, I expect.”

Freddie had met Pitt many years ago when Richard gave a reception in his honor at The Harrows, but he’d not spoken with the Prime Minister since becoming one of the Crown’s spies in France.

Richard gave Freddie’s sling a pointed look. “Since you have said nothing, I must ask. Was it on the Channel you managed to be wounded, little brother?”

At twenty-seven, Freddie took umbrage at the reference to his junior status but, then, one had to make excuses for Richard. “No. I owe that to a republican soldier in Granville who did not like the cut of my coat.”

A deep furrow appeared between Richard’s eyes.

“I jest, Richard. ’Tis not worth the telling.”

“Freddie acted quite the hero,” said Donet. “Kept your sister, Joanna, from widowhood.”

Richard’s gaze darted between Freddie and Donet. Neither spoke a word, their countenances suitably devoid of expression. Richard shrugged. “Very well, be mysterious if you must. But if Pitt asks, you must tell him what happened. He likes good stories.”