“It shouldn’t take her more than three months to spout French like a trooper,” Tony said, as he gently laid two fingers against the steady pulse in her throat. “Stop shaking, Douglas, she’ll be fine. It’s the excitement, that’s all.”
CHAPTER
24
THE THREE MEN and Janine Daudet arrived at precisely six o’clock the following morning at the massive shipbuilding field that would shortly brim with workers, soldiers, sailors, cooks, prostitutes, hawkers of every item conceivable. They hid themselves and waited.
They remained hidden when the cry went up that General Belesain’s headquarters had been breached. Guards were wounded and tied up and the general was gone.
There was some discussion as the men moved forward through the wide gates. Then there was utter silence.
At first there weren’t more than fifty men and women; their ranks swelled to several hundred, all silent and staring. Then there was a giggle, a shout of laughter. More and more people arrived. The laughter grew. So did the general’s curses and his threats, which ranged from cutting off arms and legs to pulling out tongues to flaying off the hide from every man and woman present. The onlookers paid no attention.
A man shouted, “Good Gawd, it’s a pig, a big fat general sort of pig!”
A woman yelled, “Look at that little thing of his! Naught but a tiny sausage!”
“Aye, and that belly, bloated with all our local food he’s sent his men to steal, the selfish pig!”
“A pig! A pig! Look at the pig!”
Georges looked at Douglas and then to Tony. They didn’t have to take care and be silent. The noise was now deafening. They laughed and slapped each other on the back. Janine Daudet was so pleased she even hugged Tony.
General Belesain was standing on a four-foot-high wooden crate. He was tied securely to a pole, his arms pulled back so far that his back was arched, making his fat belly stick out obscenely. He was quite naked. Pig ears that Georges had stolen from a local butcher were tied on his head, a pig’s snout tied around his face, poking out over his nose. The rest of him was fat and pink, no embellishments needed.
His men tried to get to him to free him but the crowd held them back. They weren’t through with their fun.
Douglas finally motioned for them to leave. Janine said to Georges in some amazement, “You’re laughing. I can’t believe it. You never laugh.”
He turned sober immediately. “I didn’t mean to. It isn’t well done of me.”
Tony said, “A man should laugh; it gives him back his bearings; it makes him realize how absurd life can be.”
Douglas said nothing. He wanted only to see his wife. She’d wanted so much to come but he hadn’t allowed it. She was too weak. She argued but he held firm. Now he wished he’d carried her here. She would have enjoyed herself immensely.
Now, he thought, he had to get them out of France and back home to England.
* * *
Three days later, Douglas, carrying Alexandra in his arms, followed by Tony, strode into Northcliffe Hall.
There was as much bedlam as there’d been the morning of General Belesain’s unveiling, only this bedlam was joyous and welcoming. Douglas looked up to see Melissande coming down the wide staircase, looking more beautiful than a flesh-and-blood woman should look, breath-stoppingly beautiful actually, but he found that he just smiled toward her. She was looking for Tony, and when she found him, she picked up her skirts to her knees, and ran full-tilt until she could jump into his arms. She screamed at the top of her lungs, “You’re sa
fe, damn you! I was so worried, so—” She said no more for Tony was kissing her soundly.
Douglas still smiled.
He looked at his wife and saw that there were tears in her eyes. He was jolted into immediate fear. “You are ill? What is wrong? You have pain?”
She shook her head and wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand.
“Alexandra, we will be attacked by fifty servants, Sinjun, and my mother in under two minutes. Speak to me.”
“She’s just so beautiful.”
“Who? Oh, Melissande. Yes, she is. Who cares?”
She stiffened in his arms.