Page 12 of A Fierce Wind

“You look very different without the dirt on your face and dressed as the beautiful young lady you are,” said Madame de Montconseil.

“Thank you,” Zoé said. Taking a seat on the sofa across from the princesse, she accepted a cup of tea from her aunt and a small plate of pastries. She’d been so anxious to see that Freddie had food she’d quite forgotten to eat and the cup of tea her aunt had brought earlier had not been enough to sustain her.

“Is Freddie awake?” asked her aunt. “Jean wants to see him about a message that has just arrived from Jersey.”

Zoé thought nothing of the message as Freddie frequently made trips to Jersey, the island that lay closest to Normandy.

“He won’t be awake for some time. After he ate, I gave him laudanum for the pain in the hope it would allow him to rest.”

“Ah, well, perhaps he will awaken by the time Jean returns. Just now, he is arranging for one of his ships to take the nuns to Jersey where there is a group of Ursulines teaching in the school for the children of the émigrés.”

“Is that the one M’sieur d’Auvergne has started?”

“It is.”

“That will suit them well,” said Zoé. She directed her next question to the princesse. “Do you have in mind a place to settle in England, madame?”

“I have friends in London we can visit. After that, I’m not sure. I rather like the countryside. For many years, I lived in a small country palace in the Bois de Boulogne near Paris.”

“Then perhaps you should consider West Sussex,” offered Zoé’s aunt. “There is plenty of room at The Harrows, my family’s estate, and my brother, Richard, the Earl of Torrington, would welcome you and your children. It would be a fine place to recover from all you have been through at least until you decide. But, if you prefer, Richard could arrange for you and your children to travel with him the next time he goes to London.”

“That is so very kind of you, Madame Donet.”

“Not at all. It is settled. When my husband sails to England, you shall accompany him. Perhaps we’ll all go. I have not visited my brother in a while and he worries about me even though I am on Guernsey.”

Madame de Montconseil said, “You must fear for your husband and niece going into France to rescue people like me. How ever do you stand the agony of awaiting their return?”

Zoé recognized the subtle smile that crossed her aunt’s face. It was the look of a woman who had long ago conquered her demons. “I knew when I married Jean Donet I was marrying adventure itself. Oh, perhaps not the terrifying kind he now faces, defying the revolution’s madmen. For that, I think he and my niece are quite brave. But I have always known such a man would not be content to sit in his parlor and gaze at his vineyard, though he has—or rather, had—an excellent one. No, once he discovered the sea, there was no other life for him.”

The princesse gave Zoé a questioning look. “I can see why Monsieur Donet would undertake the rescues, but why you?”

“I made a vow to a friend that I would do all I could for the royalist cause, no matter the peril I must face.”

Her aunt smiled. “Anyone who marries my niece will be making the same decision I made when I wed Jean Donet.”

Freddie crumpled the message from Philippe d’Auvergne that arrived while he had been sleeping. The British naval officer on Jersey who acted as go-between with their superiors in London had issued a terse summons for Freddie to sail to Jersey. The demand, devoid of information or orders, caught him by surprise. Why hadn’t d’Auvergne reduced his orders to coded writing and placed them in the hands of trusted messengers as he had done before?

Donet, sitting in the same chair Zoé had occupied earlier, gave him an assessing look, his eyes pausing as they passed over Freddie’s bandaged shoulder. “I’m sailing to Jersey tomorrow. Will you be recovered sufficiently to go with me?”

“Did you know d’Auvergne demands I attend him there?”

Donet leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “I did assume.”

Though ten years older than when Freddie had first met him, the sea captain still had a vigorous appearance, his black eyes intense, his features set in firm determination. The silver in his long black hair he confined at his nape only added to his aristocratic bearing.

The laudanum had clouded Freddie’s mind for a brief moment after he’d awakened, but now he saw clearly the path before him. His wound notwithstanding, he must get to Jersey. “I’ll be ready.”

“Good. I want to see the Ursuline sisters established there. After Jersey, I plan to sail to West Sussex. Your sister intends to take Madame de Montconseil to The Harrows. It would save time if I did not have to return you to Guernsey.”

“I have not seen my home for a while. If d’Auvergne is not averse, I would be happy to sail to England for a respite.”

Donet got to his feet and patted Freddie’s shoulder, the one not wrapped in bandages. “You certainly deserve one.”

Before Donet reached the door, Freddie asked, “Will your niece be sailing with us?” After what happened in Granville, he didn’t want to leave Zoé free to roam the dangerous streets of France without him.

“I will make sure she is included else my wife will not sleep.”

Zoé appeared at the door just then. “Are you two discussing business already?” With a look of disapproval aimed at her uncle, she said, “I came to see if Freddie is ready for dinner. He may have shaken the fever but he has yet to heal.”

“Which is why,” Freddie offered, “I have agreed to a brief rest at The Harrows. It seems my sister wants to take the princesse there.”

Zoé nodded, apparently mollified for the moment. “A rest in England might do you good.”

“You will accompany us?” asked Donet.

Zoé looked first to her uncle and then to Freddie. “I suppose I must.”