“It was a sudden decision,” she agreed. “You are acquainted with Mr. Drummond?”
“Of course—we were reacquainted last night,” the Baron said with a show of affability, “—and shared the latest news from the congress over an excellent bottle of port.”
“What is the latest news?” asked Bing with keen interest. “We have not been able to keep up.”
The Frenchman shook his head in consternation. “Prussia seeks Saxony; Austria insists on Italian territory and Tallyrand—who was the Emperor’s man—now represents the new order and happily pits each participant against the other like the puppet-master he is. Almost, one cannot blame him—the situation is ripe for exploitation.”
“If they are not careful, the former emperor will be emboldened,” warned Drummond as he nodded in agreement. “There is far too much uncertainty.”
Bing displayed mild alarm at the tenor of the conversation. “Surely no one believes Napoleon will escape his captivity? Why, I understand both French and English ships guard the harbor.”
“Never underestimate the audacity of the man,” cautioned Drummond with a grave expression. “It cannot be an easy thing to be demoted from Emperor of Europe to Emperor of Elba.”
Her color high, Hattie changed the subject and made a gesture toward the cemetery, hoping to hint that the others should take their leave. “We have discovered my parents’ graves, Monsieur le Baron, and I have come to pay my final respects.”
To her chagrin, the Frenchman only used this announcement as an excuse to take her hand again. “I have heard the sad news; my sincerest condolences, Mademoiselle Blackhouse—a deplorable attack. I hope you will allow me to advise you in this difficult time?”
“Thank you.” She did not mention she was just as likely to take advice from the Elban prisoner himself.
The Baron continued, “And recall we had made plans to tour the sights in Paris which—regrettably—had to be canceled. Now that your sad charge is completed, perhaps I may be allowed to raise your spirits by taking a tour of Thebes. To this end, you and Mademoiselle Bing”—here he bowed toward Bing—“may be more comfortable at my consulate’s guest quarters. I can send servants to transfer your belonging this very afternoon, if that is agreeable.”
“Mr. Tremaine,” murmured Bing behind Hattie.
Hattie demurred prettily, bringing her dimples to the fore. “I will discuss this idea with Mr. Tremaine, but I must warn that it is unlikely he would agree to such a plan—he has stood as my escort and advisor on the journey and I imagine he would like to keep me close to hand. I do thank you for the invitation, however.”
Taking the refusal in good part, the Frenchman bent his head in acquiescence but persisted, “In any event, please assure me you will dine with me this evening—along with Monsieur Tremaine, if he will join us; I assure you my chef does not disappoint.”
“With pleasure,” Hattie agreed, feeling she had no other polite option. To rid herself of him, she decided stronger tactics were needed. “If you gentlemen do not mind, I feel I should reflect and pray by my parents’ graves for a time.”
Bowing, the two men took their leave but invited the women to tea at the British consulate after their visit. After making an equivocal response, Hattie reached to push open the wrought iron gate with some impatience. “God in heaven, Bing—he makes my skin crawl. Think of a plausible excuse to forgo dinner, if you please.”
“Perhaps you should make him aware that your feelings are otherwise engaged,” Bing suggested as they entered the cemetery.
“I don’t think that it would much matter to him.” And there was something else, she thought with a small frown; I wasn’t paying attention and he said something important—now, what was it?
She paused before they headed toward the far corner of the cemetery and turned to Bing. “You will not be insulted if I send you away, Bing; I’m afraid there may be equal parts praying and cursing and I’d rather not have a witness.”
“Small blame to you,” was her companion’s only brisk reply. “I shall take a tour of the Temple of Karnak while I have the chance.” Bing indicated the nearest set of ruins, which, to Hattie, looked very much like any other set of tedious ruins. To each his own, she thought as she made her way over to the two unmarked mounds, the cemetery quiet and the occasional stirring of the willow branches in the breeze the only movement. Dry-eyed, she contemplated the raw, graveled graves for a moment, unable to muster up much grief. You have gotten off lightly, the both of you, she thought with some bitterness. No one will know of your perfidy, and as for me—I will have to bear this terrible burden you have placed upon me, this secret that makes me ashamed to show my face and ashamed for the honorable man I married—