The Heroic Baron (10 page)

Cecile set the soup to boiling over the hearth and repacked her basket. They said their goodbyes and
headed off to the next destination. Everywhere they
went, Alain was polite and helpful. When he wasn’t
slicing bread or pouring milk, he was charming the old
ladies, listening to the old men with their tales of bygone days, or bouncing babes and toddlers on his knee.
He played a wild tag game with some older children
and patched up a doll for a little girl.

Her neighbors took to him. Alain was a success. He
made children laugh, he made stoic old men talk, and
he made the old women feel like queens (if the French
still believed in queens). Best of all, he didn’t probe
for unsettling information. Perhaps he didn’t have to.
At each stop, everyone was full of news about the
missing family and Alain quietly soaked it in. Hopefully, whatever he learned wouldn’t prove to be damaging, Cecile wished, packing up her basket for the
last time.

The basket was considerably lighter now. Its supplies
had been dispersed to those who needed them, although the visits had taken longer than usual thanks to Alain’s
friendliness. Cecile kissed the withered cheeks of
Madame Rose and her sister in farewell. To the old
ladies delight, Alain followed suit. They tittered and
blushed. “Cecile, you keep this one. You won’t find
nicer manners than this!” Madame Rose instructed,
waving them out her scarred door with a gnarled hand.
“You two young people run along. Maybe there will be
time for a stroll before evening!” She and her sister
laughed at their outrageous matchmaking.

Cecile blushed furiously. How embarrassing to have
those things said within Alain’s hearing. She didn’t
want him to assume she was falling in love with him. It
would make everything between them awkward. It
might even drive him away. A painful thought indeed.

“Where to now?” Alain asked when they’d regained
the street.

Cecile held up the empty basket. “We’re done for
today.”

“How about that walk? The Tuileries are too far, but
I spied a small park a few blocks over.” Alain lifted the
empty basket off her arm. He swung it experimentally.
“Much better! It’s not fair for you to carry it now that it
weighs nothing. I had to carry it heavy; at least I can
have the satisfaction of carrying it empty”

Cecile laughed at his humor. His green eyes sparked
with merriment as he teased her. Could he simply
make his eyes dance on demand or did they dance all
the time? His energy and playful enthusiasm were infectious. Cecile smiled her acceptance and took the
arm he offered. Her brother could wait another half
hour for dinner. She didn’t need to be at the general’s until much later that evening. She owed herself a small
bit of fun.

The little park was crowded with children enjoying
the rare patch of green in the city. A ball rolled across
their path, and Alain leaned down to throw it back. “Do
you do this every day?” He held up the basket.

“Every day I can” Cecile answered honestly. “I try
to bring them all a little something but some days there
is less to bring. Today was a good day” She angled her
head sideways to see Alain’s expression as they walked.
What did he think of a woman who worked so closely
with the poor? Who was poor herself, or had he realized that yet?

“Does the general know you spend your wages and
trinkets on this project of yours?”

Cecile nodded. “He knows I’ve pawned a piece of
two for medicines. I don’t think he knows the extent
though. It is easy to disguise my plans since he knows I
would never keep a piece of jewelry given to me in
hopes of winning my favor.”

Alain whistled low. “Medicines are expensive. Think
what you could afford for yourself if you spent your
funds on your needs instead of others”

“I’ve managed to put a little aside,” Cecile said defensively.

“Is that what you did with the money I gave you that
day in the street?”

“Some of it. It was March, though, and winter still
had us in its grip. Many people in the neighborhood
needed medicines.”

Alain gave her a soft smile that melted her to her
toes. “My kind Cecile, I think you’ve the most gener ous heart I know. I don’t think I’ve ever encountered
such a selfless woman.”

The compliment warmed her. Cecile felt her cheeks
flush. “It’s the right thing to do”

“No, you don’t.” Alain interrupted her. “Don’t go
saying that it’s the right thing and anyone would have
done the same. I know that’s not true and so do you.
General Motrineau sits in his fine house, living on an
income largely wrested from foreign coffers and Bonaparte’s largesse. He puts more food on the table each
evening than these people see in a month. He is in a
better financial position than you and yet he does nothing.” Alain stopped walking and turned to face her, the
amount of passion for his subject evident in his bright
eyes. “You are indeed a most special and unique
woman, Cecile. You see the good you could do in the
world, and you do it.”

“What I do is so little. It doesn’t even last the night
and people are in need again come morning.” Cecile
protested, humbled by the praise he heaped on her. She
didn’t make her rounds so that someone would reward
her. She did it because she’d been raised to help others,
because that was what human beings owed one another
out of common courtesy.

“You’re wrong, Cecile.”

Cecile felt her pulse leap. Alain’s passion had a new
focus, her. His eyes had the appearance of molten
emeralds, heated and brilliant. He would kiss her again
if she allowed it. They had not discussed the first kiss.
If she let him kiss her again, what would he think? That
he could kiss her at will? She could not allow more kisses without knowing the nature of their relationship.
It would create false expectations on both their parts.
Reluctantly, Cecile stepped back.

“What is it?” Alain looked confused at her rebuff.

“I have to go. People are waiting for me” Cecile improvised a hasty excuse.

“I shall see you home, then” Alain was all correctness, once again the proper captain.

“That’s not necessary” If he escorted her home, he
might recognize the place as the Panchette’s old apartment. If he escorted her home, he would see just how
impoverished she was.

“It most certainly is,” Alain responded hotly, feeling
insulted. “A gentleman should never leave a lady unaccompanied.”

“Are you a gentleman, then? And I am a lady, is that
what you think?” Cecile asked softly in the late afternoon shadows. She gave a quiet laugh. “We don’t know
much about each other do we? Too little for there to be
kisses between us, don’t you think?”

“No, I don’t think so” His blunt denial surprised Cecile greatly. “I would gladly learn all I could of you,
Cecile. Starting with who is waiting for you at home?”

Cecile grimaced. Her hasty excuse had become a
stone around her neck. She could not get out of answering such a simple question. “My brother lives with me.
We look out for each other.”

“And your parents?” Alain asked, as they walked.

“They’re dead,” Cecile said in short tones, then continued as if by elaborating she could stop him from asking more questions. “My father was a violin maker in our village south of here. He was imprisoned for speaking out against the emperor. He died in prison and my
mother died shortly after of a broken heart”

“My apologies. I hear the reprimand in your voice,
Cecile. I shouldn’t have pried,” Alain squeezed the
hand tucked in the crook of his arm.

“Stop here, this is where I live,” Cecile said, waiting
for his reaction to the shabby building, but as he had all
day, Alain showed no sign of repulsion. Instead he began to follow her up the flights of stairs.

Nervously, Cecile gave a squeaky laugh that did her
no credit when they reached her door at the top.
“You’ve followed me far enough. I’m sure a gentleman
considers his duty is discharged at this point.”

Alain ignored her. “Is your brother home? I’d like to
meet him.”

Cecile had no time to think of a way to deny Alain.
She’d wanted to avoid this meeting. She didn’t want to
answer her brother’s questions about Alain, nor did she
want Alain to endear himself to her brother. Her
brother didn’t have many friends, and Alain would
leave someday.

“CeeCee, is that you?” The door swung open to reveal her brother, stocking footed and unkempt. He’d
probably just awoken from his afternoon nap. “You’ve
brought company! That’s fabulous.”

Alain took advantage of her brother’s exuberant welcome and stepped over the threshold. She’d have the
devil’s own time trying to get him to leave now. Within
minutes, Etienne had engrossed Alain in a game of
chess on his battered chess board, one of the small things she’d endeavored to save from their home in the
village.

Etienne had taken to Alain just like her neighbors,
Cecile thought while wrapping an apron about her
waist and setting about preparations for the evening
meal. She hoped that the sight of dinner being prepared
would subtly encourage Alain to leave. Etienne was
way ahead of her.

“Alain, stay for dinner. Cecile’s a great chef. She can
make anything taste good, even turnips.” Etienne’s face
was bright with excitement over the prospect of a dinner guest. She hadn’t the heart to deny him this treat.
She hoped Alain could stay. But a man of Alain’s
stature might have commitments or he might decide
he’d had enough poverty to last for one day. No doubt
he could do better than the offerings of her meager
table. To save her brother’s feelings, Cecile tried to
soften the blow.

“Etienne, Alain might have dinner plans already,”
Cecile ventured cautiously.

“Usually I do, but tonight, I am free.” Alain pronounced with satisfaction, slapping a hand on his knee.
“I thank you for the invitation, Etienne.”

Cecile did her best to put a proud meal on the table.
She got out the one worn, mended tablecloth to spread
on the table. She added a precious dash of salt to the
stew and hacked up the extra bit of meat she’d been
saving for tomorrow’s supper. She cut hearty chunks of
brown bread for sopping up the leftover juices.

The meal did not disappoint. Alain ate heartily and
complimented the food often. Even if it wasn’t the grand fare he was used to, Cecile had offered him her
best and she was gratified to see that he had the courtesy to recognize her efforts. She recognized that Alain
offered his best as well. He might not have brought a
bottle of wine or a bouquet of flowers, but he brought
something much better-a vibrant personality that immediately recognized the need Etienne had to make
contact with another. Alain told them outrageous stories and made them laugh. It was the best meal she’d
eaten in months, including the rich fare she was sometimes invited to sample from the general’s table.

Eventually, the evening ended. She had to go to work,
and Alain no doubt had other engagements to keep. Cecile walked Alain to the door and stepped out into the
dimly lit hallway with him. “Be careful walking down
the stairs. They can be tricky in the dark,” she warned.

“I’ll manage.”

Awkward silence ensued.

“Are you making rounds tomorrow?” Alain asked.

“Yes”

“Then I’ll come and assist you” His statement left
no room for debate. “Thank you for dinner and for
sharing your home. Your brother is delightful.” His eyes
roamed her face. Cecile felt heat pooling in her belly
again as it had the prior night under the trees.

“Cecile, do you think we know enough about each
other now to permit a kiss?” Alain whispered, his lips an
inch from hers. He did not wait for a response, but gently bussed her lips and retreated quietly down the stairs
before she could protest. “Adieu, ma cherie, a demain.”

“Goodbye my love, until tomorrow.” Cecile
watched him fade down the wooden steps, his boots clacking into the distance. Her fingers traced her lips,
recalling the gentle pressure of his kiss.

“My lord, there are more of them.” Cranston’s
words brought Alain up short as he entered the foyer of
his lodgings. There was something highly repetitive
about this scene. Running footsteps upstairs confirmed
his fears.

“How many relatives do the Panchettes have?” He
asked charily.

“That’s just it, my lord. They’re not related. They’ve
heard through friends that you took some people to
safety, to new lives.”

“They thought to throw themselves on my mercy,
eh?” Alain surmised. “Well, how many are there?”

“Just four, a husband, wife, and two small children.”

“I will see what can be done” Alain said briskly,
heading to the room that served as his library. “We’ll
have to keep them hidden until the boat returns”

Alain sank back into the chair behind the broad desk.
What had he wrought? He was becoming a regular ferryman, a right dangerous occupation with the cargo he
carried-families linked to potentially treasonous individuals. And he still didn’t have the secretary. This was
more than he’d bargained for. He had come for one
man. When he’d assumed the convenient identity of
Captain Stanislawski, he had not thought to maintain
that identity for more than a week. Now he virtually
had a career with the French army. He had not planned
on masquerading so deeply, nor had he planned on
meeting a woman who appealed to the core of his being
with her beauty and her beliefs.

To be honest, he’d taken on the challenge of rescuing
the secretary as part of his campaign to hold his grief at
bay by filling his life with meaningful tasks. He’d
hoped the adventure would keep his wits sharp and his
pain deadened. But since he’d met Cecile, he’d never
felt so alive.