Part 2 (1/2)
Chapter Two.
Angelica moaned softly. A terrible ache pounded inside her skull.
Little by little, the darkness dissolved until she could detect rays of light. Objects took on recognizable shapes, yet nothing looked familiar. No resemblance to any room she'd ever seen at the convent. The chamber she was in was decorated with colors of light green and gold. A costly green velvet chair sat before the hearth across from the foot of the bed. The furnis.h.i.+ngs were too fine. Too ornate.
Where am I?
She moved her gaze to the right. Sunlight cascaded from the window. With a groan, she shut her eyes tightly and turned away from the a.s.sailing light. The sudden movement sent a stabbing pain directly to her temples.
She remained still, eyes closed, until the pain subsided. Thoughts came to her slowly, scrambled, as she attempted to recall her last memories. The chapel. Madre. The horrible incident with the stick...
Without moving her head, she opened her eyes once more.
A woman sat near the bed, chin down and fast asleep. A woman she didn't recognize. A woman not in gray, the required dress at the convent. The silver-haired woman's modest clothing was a distinct contrast to the richness of the room.
Unease seeped into her system; her pulse quickened.
The woman beside her stirred, and her eyes fluttered open. She looked straight at Angelica and came to her feet.
”Dieu, you're awake!” she exclaimed and rushed from the room.
Angelica's heart jumped to her throat.
Had the woman just spoken French? Though she hadn't spoken the language in years, she'd understood every word.
Dear G.o.d. Where was she!
Exhausted, Simon strode toward the dining hall of the Chateau Arles.
Located by the sea, the isolated chateau belonged to the recently retired Commodore of the King's Navy-Robert d'Arles. Simon had spent much of his youth here with Robert, when they weren't at sea, at war.
It was an ideal place for Simon to rendezvous with his s.h.i.+ps.
Robert had returned from Paris during Simon's brief trip to the Republic of Genoa and was waiting to break fast with him. Normally, Simon would be delighted to spend time with the man who'd saved his life, had raised him as his own and taught him everything he knew about s.h.i.+ps and battle.
But not today.
Today there was something he needed to say to Robert. It was a conversation he never thought he'd have. The words he had to voice to his mentor weighed heavily on him.
Dieu, everything was in shambles. Even his good judgment was askew. Last night's events further emphasized that. Never had he pursued a beautiful woman without first giving cautious consideration beforehand to any possible reprisals. He'd always prided himself on his self-control, on his ac.u.men. Yet, last eve he'd done something completely impetuous and chased a pretty face into a convent.
Thank G.o.d, the two women weren't from n.o.ble families.
Having sailed the short distance back to France, his s.h.i.+p had arrived well before dawn. He'd carried the beauty, still trapped in slumber, to one of the second-floor bedchambers and managed to coax her friend to retire to a separate chamber for rest.
He could still feel the heated effects of having Angelica's soft, sweet form against him, desire still humming in his veins. In fact, each time he gazed upon the captivating face that had provoked his uncharacteristic behavior, raw l.u.s.t licked up his spine. His physical reactions to her were confounding in the extreme.
Anxious to speak to the moonlight angel, he'd given orders to inform him the moment she awoke. No doubt she'd be pleased to be out of that convent. For good.
Yet he forced himself to stop short of imagining the various ways she might demonstrate her appreciation.
Simon entered the dining hall with her divine singing echoing in his mind.
”Ah, Simon, there you are!” Robert d'Arles-Marquis de Nevelon, Comte de Sorbon-rose from the table with the a.s.sistance of a cane.
The sight was jarring.
A splinter of wood that had fragmented during a cannon attack had pierced Robert's leg, fracturing it. It seemed inconceivable that his life at sea was over. A life Robert so greatly adored. At fifty-five, his strong physique sculpted by his physical lifestyle was evident even in the finery of his silk, olive-green doublet and breeches. Simon had always seen Robert as invincible. A high-ranking naval officer. An Aristo whose conquests on the sea and in the boudoir were legendary.
”I wasn't certain you'd join me this morning. I heard you brought two women back with you. What's the matter, my boy? Are you finding one at a time is not enough these days?” Simon could readily see the physical misery Robert's leg was causing him reflecting in his gray eyes, despite his smile.
Robert was a proud man. Simon purposely schooled his features to show indifference to his condition and forced a smile in return. ”I'll have to double my efforts if I'm to hope for a chance of matching your mult.i.tude of comely ladies by the time I reach your age,” he teased, hoping his answer was enough to put an end to the topic. A discussion about who the women were and how they came to be here was the last thing Simon wanted at the moment.
Robert chuckled as they sat down at the table. ”You've done exceedingly well in your own right-not just with the ladies but at sea as well. You do me proud.”
It was a great compliment coming from the greatest man Simon had ever known. He was about to respond when the servants entered with the morning meal. Robert continued the moment they were alone again, not allowing him a reply.
”I understand that your s.h.i.+ps have been highly successful. As usual.” His tone was once again full of pride. ”Fouquet must have been quite pleased to see the sum.”
Simon swallowed-the food having just turned bitter in his mouth. Simply hearing Fouquet's name soured his insides and rioted with his conscience.
”Why shouldn't he be pleased? I'm certain Nicolas Fouquet could use the money to construct an addition to his enormous new chateau. Isn't Vaux-le-Vicomte grander than Fontainebleau-the king's finest palace?” He couldn't hold back the venom in his tone.
Robert stopped eating. ”Careful, now. To suggest-even remotely-that the Superintendent of Finance is misappropriating funds from the treasury is a dangerous accusation to make. Do not make powerful foes, Simon. Let the king deal with Fouquet. You must stay focused on your goal. It's only a matter of time before you receive the recognition you deserve from our king. Then Louis will at last enn.o.ble you and allow you to become an officer in his navy-just as we have always wanted.”
Robert's words stabbed straight into the core of Simon's being. Though he had no choice, Simon hated telling the man to whom he owed his every success, who had championed Simon at every turn, sharing in his dream of betterment-that it was all dead.
The dream was done.
Everything they'd hoped for would never come to pa.s.s.
”Robert, it is time to stop dreaming and accept reality; our king is weak. And completely uninterested in his own kingdom,” he said in restrained, even tones, wrestling to keep his ire in check. ”He's left the realm vulnerable to the corruption that now infests it-namely Fouquet and the First Minister Cardinal Mazarin, who both battle for his power. Louis is not going to change. Nor is he going to recognize anything I do. Or have ever done.”
Robert shoved his plate aside. ”Nonsense. With your naval successes and the wealth you've earned for the Crown, it will only be a matter of time-”
”It will not be a matter of time.”
”It will! I believe in our king. He is an intelligent man. He is young-true. But he will come around, and he will take the reins from Fouquet and Mazarin, and be the king he was meant to be.”
”Dear G.o.d, Robert, how can you say that? Louis had his coronation at fifteen. He's now almost twenty-two, and still he doesn't rule, letting others run his country for him-preferring to spend his time with his mistress and on his ridiculous ballets.”
Robert sat back, looking incredulous. ”What in the world has gotten into you? I've never heard you speak this way. Becoming enn.o.bled and an officer in the King's Navy has always been your dream. Why this change of heart? Why now? You are so close to attaining all that you've worked for. What has happened?”
Grim, his heart heavy, Simon shook his head. ”Thomas Jaures is dead. He was captured by the Spanish. My men found his body dumped on the French border. All evidence shows that he wasn't executed but rather tortured to death. Gilbert and Daniel have yet to be found.”
Robert frowned. ”I had no idea.”