Page 85 of Echo in the Wind

She nodded. “But I would not ask Monsieur Bequel to lift anything heavy for a while. And the coachman will not be much use till his wound is healed.”

“I will assure Bequel lifts nothing save a pistol. Meanwhile, we will be leaving tomorrow. The king requires my presence in Paris, so I will need another driver. Might one of the servants be fit for the job?”

“One of the footmen has driven carriages before.”

“Parfait. We will take the Saintonge carriage so the wounded driver will have his to return to La Rochelle when he is recovered. Will you be all right in my absence?”

“Of course.” Wiping errant gray hairs off her forehead with the back of her hand, she cast him an anxious glance. “Will you take your niece, Monsieur?”

“With her having the last name Donet, I would not leave her here with the current threat.” The housekeeper appeared to relax. “She has never been to Paris?”

Marguerite put one hand on her hip. “Monsieur, she has never been far from Saintonge.”

“Well then, she will enjoy seeing Paris.”

“There can be no doubt of it. And, given all she has lost, she would not want you to leave her behind. You have taken the place of her papa.”

As he climbed the stairs to check on Émile and the coachman, he thought of his ward. Should he place her in the care of the Ursuline Sisters of Saint-Denis? They had been good to Claire. Many daughters of the aristocracy were sent there for their education prior to marriage. Zoé was the right age. But she was all he had of his brother. And she had no father.

Putting that decision aside for the moment, he considered his options for getting to Paris. The roads in France had improved substantially since he’d lived in Saintonge, making the carriage trip to Paris bearable, but he preferred to travel by ship. With all the stops the carriage would make, it would take no longer sailing from La Rochelle to Le Havre and then a day’s ride to Paris. He would have to make a brief stop in Lorient to change ships to his sloop.

If, notwithstanding the night in his bed, Joanna insisted on being returned to England, he would need that ship. The modifications he’d made would serve well if she were to remain with him. He did not want her to go. But could she be persuaded to stay?

Émile had just finished his breakfast when Jean walked through the open bedchamber door. Sophie picked up the tray and, bobbing a curtsy, carried it from the room.

“You are well?” he asked. “No fever?”

“I am fine and tired of lying abed. Marguerite objects, of course, but I am getting up. Unlike ye, Capitaine, I do not carry books about. Staring at the walls and worrying about the ship are driving me mad.”

Jean laughed. “You will be pleased to learn we depart tomorrow.”

“We do?” His quartermaster’s face brightened. “And where are we going? To return the English lady to her home?”

“Only if she insists. My preference is not to return to England just now. The king has summoned me to Paris.”

“Why?”

“Louis rarely gives reasons, mon ami, but I assume ’tis the customary appearance for one newly titled. He will want to be assured of the comte de Saintonge’s continued loyalty.”

“Ah.” Émile let out a breath and ran his hand through his thick russet hair loose on his shoulders. “Then I must again dress as a gentleman, non?”

“Oui, but consider this, my townhouse in Paris has fine beds and a good cook.”

“And the nearest tavern has pretty wenches. Oui, I recall it well.” His quartermaster sat up and slid his legs off the edge of the bed, wincing as he put weight on his arm. “Très bien, we go. Do ye expect to persuade Lady Joanna to accompanying ye to Paris?”

“I hope for that result.” His quartermaster did not need to know Joanna was now his lover.

Émile gave him a smug smile. “Ah…’tis as I expected. Ye’re caught as sure as a cod in a net.”

Jean shrugged, not wishing to admit the truth growing inside him. What he felt for Joanna scared him to death. “Since you are rejoining the living, mon ami, ask my garishly attired butler, Lefèvre, to send a messenger to La Rochelle. Have M’sieur Ricard recall the crew and ready the sloop.” He pulled an envelope from his pocket, a letter he had prepared for the modiste. “And see that Madame Provot gets this. Lady Joanna will need additional gowns if she’s to accompany me to Paris.”

“Oui, Capitaine.” Émile slid his feet to the floor. “It will be done as ye say.”

Jean squared his shoulders. “While you are doing that, I will see if I can convince the redhead to come with me.”

Joanna enjoyed walking in the estate’s gardens. This morning she and Zoé decided to pick wildflowers for the breakfast room. As they passed through the manicured gardens to the field of flowers beyond, Joanna shared stories of her childhood in West Sussex.

When she spoke of her sister and brothers, she could see the envy in Zoé’s eyes. Joanna wanted to tell the girl that she would be pleased to act the part of an older sister. Having been that for Tillie, it would be easy to adopt the same role for this motherless child, but how could she say that when she had no idea of her permanence in Donet’s life?