In response, he cradled her head in his hands and placed his forehead against hers. “You are tearing my heart out.”
“Good,” she retorted.
He came to a decision. “I will tell you what this is about but you will not thank me.”
Raising her face to his, she declared with some defiance, “I have no intention of ever thanking you for anything.”
“Your parents were aiding Napoleon.”
She stared at him while he watched her. It took several seconds to assimilate what he had said, it was so outlandish. “Napoleon Bonaparte?”
“The very same.”
Frowning, she scoffed, “That is absurd.”
He tilted his head. “I’m afraid it is irrefutable.”
Stepping back, she sought to think without the distraction his nearness provided. “Why would you say this? They were English—why, they had no French connections at all.”
His gaze held hers. “It is believed they were beholden to him when they were first given permission to excavate in Egypt.”
Knitting her brow, Hattie thought about this shocking revelation while he watched her with a grave expression. Unfortunately, she could see all too well how such a thing could come to pass—her parents cared for nothing but their all-encompassing pursuit, and when they had first begun, Napoleon held Egypt. They were not inclined to be loyal to their country if circumstances didn’t warrant—after all, they had abandoned their only child in pursuit of their life’s work—small wonder if they abandoned their country, too. “Infamous,” she breathed in acute horror.
“Yes,” he agreed in a grave tone. “Infamous.”
But it made little sense—even if the bargain had indeed been made, long ago. “Surely there was no reason to continue—whatever it was they did for him—after he lost Egypt to Nelson.”
Moving his hands gently on her arms he explained, “A portion of their finds—and their earnings—went to finance his war effort. It still does.”
God in heaven—all this time—it was almost unthinkable. Casting about for an argument, she returned to her original point. “But surely that stopped when he was exiled to Elba—there is no longer any war to fund.”
But he could offer no comfort and said quietly, “There is a persistent belief that Napoleon will escape Elba and attempt to return to power.”
Staring at him, Hattie wondered how many more shocks she would be required to absorb this night. The very idea was unfathomable—not with everyone sick of war and the Congress working to restore some order. “And you believe such a thing could happen?”
He ducked his chin for a moment, weighing what to tell her. “I am afraid such an attempt is inevitable. Your parents were asked to secretly store weapons and treasure toward his planned escape before they disappeared.”
“The secret chamber,” she breathed in dawning comprehension. “Edward was looking for the secret chamber and was killed for his troubles.” She looked up at him, her heartache forgotten in the press of other disasters. “Did you know of it?”
He bowed his head. “I knew it existed—I am afraid I encouraged Monsieur Bing to discover its location.”
“Oh,” said Hattie, acutely dismayed. “Don’t tell Bing.”
He continued, “Your parents were shocked by his death; it is what caused their change of heart, I believe.”
This was of interest, and Hattie grasped at it. “They repented of their treachery?”
Reluctant to disillusion her, he shook his head. “I’m afraid it was not that simple. They began to make overtures to the British, believing the British would soon control the site. They were hedging their bets.”
Hattie thought this over. “And someone must have found out.”
“Yes—someone must have found out. And those who work for Napoleon could not take the chance your parents would reveal what they knew to the British—just as they could not take the chance that Edward would discover the chamber.”
She met his eyes. “And what is your role?”
He shook his head slightly with regret. “I cannot say, Hattie—you mustn’t ask.”
Exquisitely frustrated, she stared at him. “Why? Are you in danger? Am I? I don’t understand.”
He cradled her head so that his thumb caressed her cheek. “The less you know of this, the better—believe me.”
Stepping back from his embrace, she crossed her arms before her, in part to guard herself from him because she was very much inclined to seek out the comfort of his embrace and she needed to think. “You must see that I have no reason to believe you—you stole the key to the British consulate and you were trying to steal my necklace.”