In an attempt to spend as little time in Harry’s company as possible—and thus avoid temptation—Hester made herself busy by putting the finishing touches to her maps of Egypt. Then she re-labeled Uncle Jasper’s medicine chest so there would be no repeat of the Blue Nile Lily mishap.
Harry spent lots of time on deck grooming Makeen, scratching the animal’s mane, and crooning soft nothings into its flicking ears. Hester refused to feel jealous of a horse. It was only as she lay in her narrow cot at night that she allowed herself to think of Harry in the cabin next to hers, just on the other side of the thin wooden wall. She strained to hear a sound—the creak of the bed or a muffled sigh—but she never heard anything. All noise was drowned out by the rhythmic slap of the waves.
The weather, mercifully, held for the duration of the crossing, and Drovetti’s ship remained within sight the entire time. On the morning of the fifth day, Hester let out a little squeal of excitement as the coast of France finally appeared on the horizon.
“Looks like we’re going to dock somewhere near Cannes,” Harry said, sneaking up behind her so quietly that she almost jumped out of her skin.
She stole a glance at his handsome profile then resolutely turned to study the neat little houses clustering the cliffs around the curved sliver crescent of beach. She’d forgotten just howgreenEurope was. It almost hurt her eyes.
Harry pointed at several large vessels that crowded the bay, and Hester squinted to read the painted nameplates on the side:Inconstant, Saint Espri’t,Étoile.
“I bet Napoleon sailed from Elba in one of those. And look, there’s Drovetti’s ship. He can only have a day’s lead on us at best.”
Hester eyed the townspeople on the bustling wharf in amazement. “Look! They’re wearing tricolor cockades on their hats again, just as they did during the Revolution! I wonder if they’re newly made or if they just hid them the whole time King Louis was on the throne.”
Harry’s expression darkened. “I hoped I’d never see such a thing again.” He took a deep breath and made an obvious effort to brush off his anger. “Still, it shouldn’t be too difficult to follow Napoleon’s trail. The locals won’t be talking of anything else. Come on, let’s get ashore.”
In less than an hour they’d unloaded Makeen and their pitifully few belongings. Harry offered Captain Cavalli the painted sarcophagus if he would agree to remain in port for the next few days.
“In case we need to make a speedy escape,” he grinned. “Always good to leave options open.”
Hester prayed that would not be necessary.
She pretended not to be impressed by Harry’s ability to speak French as he conversed easily with the locals, but she’d had no idea he was so proficient at the language. He must have learned it during the war. Her regard for him went up another notch. There was so much more to him than she’d ever suspected. What other hidden talents did he possess?
When she overheard him casually refer to her as ‘ma femme,’ however, she elbowed him sharply in the ribs. “What did you just call me? Doesn’t ‘ma femme’ mean ‘my wife’?”
His smile was thoroughly wicked. “It can mean either ‘my wife’ or ‘my woman’. Which would you prefer? I told them we were on our honeymoon.”
His gaze roved her face, settling for a moment on her lips, as if he were considering kissing her to support his fabrication, and Hester’s heart gave a thump. His eyed darkened, but she managed to toss her head and break the sudden tension that crackled between them.
“Neither, thank you very much.”
He gave her a look that was far too knowing and laughed.
Their efforts to hire a carriage failed. Napoleon had arrived with over six hundred veteran soldiers, many of whom had required mounts, and the locals had gleefully sold even their carriage horses to the ‘liberating army.’ In the end, Harry was forced to pay an exorbitant sum for a dusty, cantankerous donkey. Despite its comical appearance, however, the animal seemed content to trot along beside the handsome Makeen.
Napoleon, they discovered, had come ashore three days ago and headed northwest, over the Alps towards Grenoble. It was generally assumed that his destination was Paris, where he would wrest back the reins of power from the Bourbon King Louis.
“Look at this.” Harry handed her a small printed poster one of the locals had given him. “He’s back to calling himself the emperor again.”
Hester read the hastily-printed paper, which turned out to be a proclamation from Napoleon himself.
“Soldiers!” she read aloud. “In my exile I heard your voice. I have arrived through all obstacles and all perils. Your general, called to the throne by the choice of the people, is restored to you. Come and join him! Tear down those colors which the nation has proscribed and which, for twenty-five years, served as a rallying signal to all the enemies of France. Mount the cockade tri-color; you bore it in the days of our greatness. I am sprung from the Revolution. I am come to save the people from the slavery into which priests and nobles would plunge them.”
She frowned. “Good Heavens!”
“That is a far more polite way of saying it than I would have chosen,” Harry said grimly. “But, yes. Let’s go.”
Chapter 15
The next few days were an exhausting blur of hard riding and brief snatches of sleep in tiny roadside inns. The Alpine scenery was stunning, but Hester scarcely had time to admire it, and at every stop Harry’s prediction proved true; the only news on anyone’s lips was of Napoleon’s triumphant return.
They reached Grenoble, only to discover that the city had surrendered without even putting up a fight. The innkeeper reported that Napoleon now had seven thousand troops at his disposal. At every stage his former supporters were coming out of the woodwork and pledging their allegiance.
“Do you think Drovetti’s given Bonaparte the necklace?” Hester ventured as they trotted along a rutted, tree-lined track in the direction of Lyons. Every single muscle in her body ached with fatigue, but she refused to complain.
“Probably,” Harry said gloomily. “Napoleon certainly seems to be having an extraordinary run of luck.” He pressed his booted heels to Makeen’s sides and shook his head. “The whole time he was on Elba, he kept promising to stay put, but it was all lies. The man’s power-mad.”