Daughter of the God-King(17)
“You know of no such item?”
Bing shook her head again. “I fear one can only assume the worst if an inventoried item is missing—the black market is thriving, unfortunately.”
Conceding, the Frenchman spread his hands. “It is fortunate most of the artifacts are accounted for, then.” He turned his head, listening. “Someone is at the door.”
Bing rose to investigate and Hattie immediately pounced on him. “What do you know of Edward’s death?”
“Leave the door to your chamber unlocked, tonight,” he directed.
A bit taken aback, she stared at him for a moment until Bing claimed her attention from the terrace, calling out, “Hathor, Baron du Pays has come to call. Shall I bring him out?”
It wants only this, Hattie thought in annoyance as she stood to address Bing—for two pins she would send the wretched vice-consul to Elba to keep company with Napoleon. “The rain approaches—it would be best to reconvene in the parlor, I think.” Turning to relay the invitation to Berry, she discovered that he had disappeared. A quick glance around the small yard revealed no clue—he was gone. It seems he wishes to entertain the wretched baron as little as I do, she thought with resignation, and headed indoors.
Chapter 7
As the rain came down outside, Hattie was compelled to endure the prescribed half-hour visit with their distinguished guest, her only consolation being Bing’s small nod in answer to her look of inquiry that indicated that her companion had indeed booked passage away from this god-forsaken city. The baron was all solicitous attention—polite and charming in an old-world way—but Hattie found him off-putting with no explanation for her reaction.“You are too kind,” she said for the second time, responding to his offer to drive out to Versailles. She meant it literally, but she could see that he interpreted the comment as a young girl’s proper sentiment in reaction to his generosity, and was well pleased. Fortunately, the gentleman wasn’t to know that by this time tomorrow she would be away from this place, and from everyone’s opportunings.
With a proprietary air, the Frenchman continued, “I understand you have seen little of the world and I will be delighted to change this unfortunate circumstance—the Sun-King’s palace is one of its wonders.”
“Ah, yes—the Sun-King,” nodded Hattie, at sea.
“Louis XIV,” interpolated the ever-helpful Bing. “An extraordinary ruler.”
“Similar to the god-king, Seti,” Hattie offered so as not to seem completely ignorant.
The vice-consul was so taken with this comparison that Hattie feared for a moment he would embrace her on the spot. “Exactly,” he smiled, his pale eyes gleaming. “My dear mademoiselle—you are very discerning.”
“That I am,” she agreed, and wished she could discern him taking his leave.
But it was not yet to be, and her visitor continued to regard her with an expression of warm approval. “History records the great men—men who leave a blazing legacy in their wake, chère mademoiselle; they are few and far between and we are indeed fortunate if we are given the opportunity to serve such men.”
From all reports, it did not seem he referred to France’s recently restored Bourbon king and she entertained a suspicion that he spoke of the now-deposed emperor, who was England’s greatest enemy. This seemed in bad taste, and so she steered clear of the subject by offering in a neutral tone, “I suppose it must be exciting to feel one is participating in historic events.”
“We live in extraordinary times, mademoiselle; and history has not yet closed its books.”
This said with an air of suppressed exultation that Hattie found incongruous, and so she tentatively agreed, “Yes—the congress has yet to come to a conclusion and I suppose France’s future is a bit uncertain.”
At this remark, he lowered his gaze and a small smile touched his lips. “Pour la gloire, mademoiselle.”
It occurred to her that he hadn’t mentioned the one subject that—one would think—should be foremost in his mind, and so she ventured, “As the vice-consul in Egypt, I imagine you are aware that my parents are missing.”
Immediately he raised his eyes to hers, his expression apologetic. “I did not mention it, mademoiselle, because I was not certain you knew of this and I felt it was not my place. Please accept my sincere assurances that everything possible is being done to find them.”
“Yes; I spoke with their agent, and it was he who told me the unfortunate news.” Hattie watched to see if this man was aware of the other, but he easily acknowledged, “Yes, Monsieur Berry; a very capable man, and well known to me. He is dévasté, of course, but he holds out hope.”