White Horses
White Horses
Joan Wolf
January 1813–the British army is preparing to cross the Pyrenees and advance against Napoleon's army. Only one thing stands in the way–funds. It will take two people masquerading as lovers to carry out a dangerous plan…Despite inheriting the traveling Cirque Equestre–France's proudest equestrian tradition–Gabrielle Rochon has no loyalty to the emperor who destroyed her family's way of life. Independent and headstrong, she pledges to help the British army, knowing her late father would have done the same. But her mission to smuggle gold across France within the cirque to the Duke of Wellington's headquarters in Spain is one the British won't let her do alone.Colonel Leo Branford–an arrogant, striking foreigner–is ordered to play the part of her husband so that he may escort the gold without arousing enemy suspicions.While Gabrielle is annoyed that she must publicly bow to his every whim, the danger of the mission binds them in a disturbingly intimate way. With French troops precariously close to uncovering their charade, it is imperative that neither of them forget their purpose…or themselves.
Praise for novels by Joan Wolf
“Romance writing at its very best.”
—Publishers Weekly starred review
on The Guardian
“Joan Wolf never fails to deliver the best.”
—Nora Roberts
“…an intensely emotional story…”
—Rendezvous on High Meadow
“Wolf…leaps into the contemporary romantic
suspense arena with this smart, compelling read.”
—Publishers Weekly on Silverbridge
“A quick-moving, enchanting tale…An excellent
choice for readers who want an exciting epic.”
—Booklist on Daughter of the Red Deer
“Captivating…endearing…heartwarming…
Wolf’s assured storytelling is simply the best.”
—BookPage on Royal Bride
“Fast paced, highly readable…”
—Library Journal on The Gamble
“An entertaining and thought-provoking read.”
—Washington Post Book World
on The Reindeer Hunters
“Joan Wolf is absolutely wonderful.
I’ve loved her work for years.”
—Iris Johansen
White Horses
Joan Wolf
www.mirabooks.co.uk (http://www.mirabooks.co.uk)
This one’s for Mike.
Contents
Chapter One (#ua8de0e94-8ac6-50c5-9535-32b6e63932de)
Chapter Two (#u6cdf96e1-3444-57a8-8032-775a8a262d7e)
Chapter Three (#u3c13d58f-5c2a-5e31-b62d-dcb5e972ab37)
Chapter Four (#uc5cc9eaa-bbf9-5d08-8e06-da2efb891140)
Chapter Five (#u926a5cdf-3980-59d4-a53a-047565b436bc)
Chapter Six (#u45cf3a69-83f3-5888-8e8b-b17accc38f10)
Chapter Seven (#u9d614d68-bc2e-5a65-919d-74efd72087e6)
Chapter Eight (#u000f91b1-2136-53f4-b953-7a10671df520)
Chapter Nine (#u2ef034eb-5352-5f91-a78f-0c3c912714e7)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
One
London, February 25, 1813
The sun was starting to shine through the fog when, dressed in civilian clothes, Colonel Leo Standish, Earl of Branford, passed through the front door of the Horse Guards building, home of the War Office. There was just the faintest trace of a limp in his walk, legacy of a wound he had taken at the siege of Burgos several months before.
Branford entered a functional room painted in a rich, dark green, with a desk, a glass-fronted bookcase and a large table with a map spread out upon it. Two men were sitting on either side of the desk, and when the earl walked in they both rose to their feet.
“My lord,” John Herries, commissary-in-chief of the British Army, addressed him. “Thank you for coming. I don’t believe you’ve met Mr. Nathan Rothschild.”
“No, I have not. How do you do, Mr. Rothschild?” The earl came forward with an outstretched hand. He had certainly heard of Rothschild, the London scion of the industrious financial family, whose brothers were spread throughout Europe.
The short bald man was dressed in a flawless black coat, white necktie and buff pantaloons. He put his hand into the earl’s large grasp. “It is an honor to meet you, my lord,” he said.
The earl’s blue-green eyes moved from Rothschild to Herries. “What’s this all about, Herries?” he asked.
“Won’t you have a seat, my lord?” the commissary-in-chief said. “We have a job for you and I’d like to explain it.”
The earl drew his eyebrows together. “A job? I don’t have time to do any jobs, Herries. I am returning to my regiment next week.”
“If you would just let me explain, my lord…”
“Oh, all right.” The earl folded his six-foot-two body onto one of the chairs. “Go on.”
“I’m sure you are aware of the difficulties the Marquess of Wellington has been having with funds,” Herries began.
The earl nodded. “He needs to feed and pay the troops, and the local Spanish and Portuguese bankers won’t accept paper money anymore. He needs gold coin.”
Herries continued. “Mr. Rothschild has managed to buy up for us several million newly minted napoléon d’or coins in Holland.”
The earl’s face broke into a rare smile. “Good for you, Mr. Rothschild. Well done.”
Rothschild smiled back.
Herries went on. “Our only problem, my lord, is that we need a way to safely transport the gold to the army in Portugal.”
“It’s still in Holland?” the earl asked.
“Yes, and we need to get it through France to Wellington in Portugal. Needless to say, once the French government gets word of the sale of all those gold coins to Rothschild, they will be on the lookout for anything that might look like an English conveyance.”
The earl arched an eyebrow. “By any chance, does this job you have for me have something to do with the transportation of these coins?”
“It does, my lord.” Herries pulled at his lip, then turned to the other man. “I think I’ll let Mr. Rothschild explain.”
Rothschild looked earnestly at the tall, fair-haired man. “I have had some experience in this sort of thing, my lord. As you may or may not know, my family has transferred money around Europe all during the years of Napoléon’s regime. One of the most trustworthy means we have found for doing this is a French circus, the Cirque Equestre. The circus owner, François Robichon, used to be Master of the Horse to Louis XVI, and he has no love for the Revolution or for Napoléon. The circus can travel anywhere without question, and Pierre has moved money for us successfully on a number of occasions.”
“Two of the circus wagons have false bottoms where the gold can be stored,” Herries put in.
The earl nodded. “It sounds like an excellent idea, but how does it involve me?”
Herries looked at the splendid young man who was sitting across from him. He had never met the Earl of Branford before, and faced with the man in person, a task that had once seemed reasonable now seemed highly improbable. He looked again at Nathan Rothschild.
Nathan continued. “Very unfortunately, François died several months ago and the circus is now headed by his daughter. I am hesitant to commit such a large sum of money to the care of so young a girl. I want her to have a British escort to make certain that the money gets safely to Portugal.”
“And I want her to have a British escort to keep her honest. We don’t want little fingers dipping into the gold bags,” Herries said bluntly.
Now both of the earl’s eyebrows went up. “A British escort would most certainly draw French attention to the circus, exactly what you are trying to avoid.”
“Not if the escort pretended to be a part of the circus,” Rothschild reasoned bluntly.
There was a moment of silence. “And you want that escort to be me?” the earl asked at last.
Herries shifted on his chair. The earl hadn’t changed his own position, but there was a dangerous look in his eyes. Herries cleared his throat. “That’s right, my lord.”
“May I ask whose idea it was to attach me to a circus?” the earl asked, his pleasant voice in contrast to the look in his eyes.
Herries could not bring himself to meet that blue-green gaze. “Lord Castlereagh put forth your name, my lord. As you can understand, he is quite anxious that the gold arrive as safely and as promptly as possible. Wellington will need it to finance his next campaign and his subsequent entry into France.”
Silence. Finally the earl asked with awful courtesy, “Am I supposed to—perform?”
“Of course not, my lord,” the two men chorused in horror.
The earl linked his long, manicured fingers together on his lap. “Then how are we to account for my sudden attachment to a circus? I speak French, but not like a Frenchman. And I’m not the sort of person who just blends into the background,” he added ironically.
“We have thought about that problem, my lord, and we have come up with a solution,” Herries assured him. “You will pretend to be Gabrielle Robichon’s new husband.”
This time the earl’s eyebrows almost disappeared under the lock of golden hair that had fallen over his forehead. “What?”
Herries said earnestly, “It is the only way to disguise you, my lord, other than making you a performer. Mademoiselle Robichon’s family will have to know the truth, but the rest of the circus performers will think you are married.”
“I see,” the earl said slowly. “I am to pretend to be the husband of a circus owner.”
Herries and Rothschild exchanged glances. Neither one of them dared to answer.
There was a long silence.
“I suppose I shall have to do it,” the earl finally said. “It’s essential that the money get to the army.”
For the first time Herries realized that he had been holding his breath. He let it out slowly.
Rothschild said, “Thank you, my lord. I realize that this duty may be distasteful to you, but we do feel it is necessary.”
“And the girl is willing to pretend that I am her husband?”
Rothschild nodded decisively. “She agreed.”
The earl asked, “What’s in it for her? Are you paying her to carry the gold?”
Rothschild said with dignity, “Of course I will pay her, but she is also doing it because she knows her father would want her to. François Robichon was a royalist through and through.”
The earl unlaced his fingers. “Where am I to meet this circus?”
Herries said, “I think it would be a good idea for you and Gabrielle to meet in Brussels. That is where you will tell people that you were married. Then you can return to the circus together.”
“Very well.” The earl stood up. “I imagine you would like me to get started as soon as possible.”
“Yes, my lord. Gabrielle will be waiting for you at the Hôtel Royale.”
“Is there any particular name I am to go by?”
Herries said, “You could use your given name, my lord. I don’t think anyone would recognize it.”
The earl smoothed one of his sleeves. “Very well. I will meet this Gabrielle and go with her to the circus, where I will pretend to be her husband. What about the gold?”
“It will be loaded into the circus wagons before you get there, my lord. You should be able to start your journey immediately.”
“How long will it take us to get to Portugal?”
“If you get the gold to Biarritz, the army will take it over the Pyrenees to Wellington,” Rothschild said. “The journey from Lille to Biarritz should take about a month, my lord. The circus will have to make stops to perform. It would look suspicious if it didn’t.”
The earl’s finely chiseled lips settled into a grim line. “The things I do for my country,” he said. “Very well. I will leave for Brussels tomorrow.”
“Thank you, my lord,” both men chorused. After the earl had gone and the door was closed behind him, both Herries and Rothschild looked at each other. “Couldn’t Castlereagh have gotten someone who was not quite so noticeable?” Rothschild said.
Herries shook his head. “He wanted Lord Branford. Said if anyone could get the money through, it was he.”
Rothschild said, “I hope he was right, Herries. I hope he was right.”
Outside, the earl got into his chaise, tipped the boy who had been holding his grays and started the horses, driving through the city streets toward Grosvenor Square, where his town house was located. He pulled into the mews behind the house, relinquished his horse and carriage to one of his grooms, and went into the house from the back.
He was surprised by his eighteen-year-old sister in the hallway in front of the library.
“Oh, there you are, Leo,” Dolly cried. “Mama and I have come to call on you.”
“Have you?” he asked. “And whose idea was that?”
“Mine. Come into the drawing room and join us.”
“I can’t stay long, I have things to do. I am leaving for the Peninsula tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Dolly was clearly upset. “So soon?” Her gaze dropped to his injured leg.
“I am perfectly healthy. There’s no reason for me to linger in England when my regiment needs me.”
“But there is a reason,” Dolly lamented. “I wanted you to help me with my come-out. I thought you could be my escort to Almacks when I make my first appearance there.”
“Good God,” the earl said. “Whatever put that into your head?”
“Well, there is one other thing you can do for me. Come along and talk to Mama,” Dolly said, and, taking her brother’s arm, steered him past the magnificent circular staircase into the marble-floored front hall and thence into the drawing room, which looked out onto Grosvenor Square. Sitting on a gold velvet sofa in front of an alabaster fireplace was a lovely middle-aged woman whose hair was so fair that it scarcely showed the white that had begun to streak it.
“Hello, Leo,” she said quietly.
“Hello, Mama,” he replied. He made no attempt to go to her. “This is a surprise.”
“Dolly dragged me. We are planning her come-out and she has a question she wants to ask you.”
His eyes, the same shade as his mother’s, moved to his sister’s animated face. “What question?” he asked.
His sister looked at him pleadingly. “Please, can we use the ballroom here at Standish House for my come-out ball? It would be so wonderful to have it here. If we have it at Jasper’s house we will have to use the drawing room, and it isn’t very big.”
Jasper Marley, Lord Rivers, was Dolly and Leo’s stepfather. Dolly, along with Leo’s two young brothers and his half brother, lived with her mother and stepfather.
Leo looked at his mother. “Was this Dolly’s idea or yours?”
“Believe it or not, the idea was Dolly’s,” she replied composedly.
“Yes, it was,” Dolly said. “I think Papa would want me to have the best come-out, Leo. I think he would want me to use the ballroom.”
He looked into his sister’s anxious face. “I’m sure he would. Of course you may use the ballroom. But I won’t be here for the great occasion.” He turned his eyes back to his mother. “I am leaving tomorrow for the Peninsula.”
Her fair eyebrows drew together with concern. “Must you go back, Leo? Surely you have done more than your share in this war. You’re twenty-eight. It’s time for you to be thinking of marrying and setting up your nursery. You have the succession to think of.”
His mouth set. “I have two younger brothers, Mama. If something happens to me, the earldom will stay in the family. And I believe in finishing what I start. The war is not over yet.”
She met and held his eyes. “You took a bullet in your leg. You may not be so lucky the next time.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Would you care?”
Her eyes watered. “Of course I would care! You’re my son.”
“Lucky me,” he replied.
Dolly said anxiously, “I wish you wouldn’t fight with Mama, Leo. I know you don’t like Jasper, but he’s not that bad. I think you and Mama should make up your quarrel before you go back to the war.”
“We don’t have a quarrel,” the earl said. “Do we, Mama?”
She surprised him by answering, “Yes, we do. And I wish we could put it behind us, Leo. I hate to see you going into danger again.” She stood up and clasped her hands in front of her. “Can’t you forgive me?”
His face was hard as stone. “Some things can’t be forgotten…or forgiven. And now, if there’s nothing more you need me for, I have a number of things to do before I leave tomorrow.”
A ripple of pain passed over his mother’s face.
“Leo!” Dolly said sharply.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Dolly,” he replied curtly. “You came here to get use of the ballroom—well, you’ve got it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have things to do. Good afternoon.” He turned and strode out of the room.
“Mama, are you all right?” Dolly flew to her mother’s side.
“Yes, I’m fine.” Tears were running down Lady Rivers’s face.
“What is wrong?” Dolly asked in bewilderment. “Can Leo still be angry with you for marrying so soon after Papa died?”
“Leo has his reasons, Dolly. I don’t blame him for his actions toward me. I just wish he had a little more charity in his heart, that’s all.”
She took out her handkerchief and wiped her eyes dry. “Come along, dear.” She tried to smile. “Leo isn’t the only one who has things to do.”
Two
It was raining when Gabrielle Robichon’s elderly carriage pulled up in front of the Hôtel Royale. She got out of the carriage and went to talk to the driver. “You can stable the horses in the mews in back of the hotel, Gerard. Make sure they are rubbed down and give them a bran mash.”
“I know, Gabrielle,” said the driver, who was almost as venerable as the carriage. “I’ve been taking care of horses for longer than you’ve been alive.”
Gabrielle smiled at him.
Gabrielle’s older companion appeared at her side. “For heavens sake, chérie, let’s get out of this rain!”
“All right, Emma, all right,” Gabrielle said. The two women hurried toward the door of the hotel, which was opened for them by a liveried doorman.
“Our bags are in the carriage,” Emma said to the doorman. “Will you have them fetched, please?”
“Yes, madame,” the man replied. “I will have them sent up to your room.”
“Thank you.”
The two women approached the desk. “We are supposed to have a reservation, Emma,” Gabrielle said.
The clerk behind the desk looked at them, and Emma said, “Madame Dumas and Madame Rieux. I believe we have a reservation.”
The clerk looked at his book. “Yes, I see it here. I will have someone show you to your room, mesdames.”
“Thank you.”
The two women followed a livery-clad young man up the central staircase to a room on the second floor. Emma and Gabrielle looked around at the four-poster bed, the aged Oriental carpet, and the nightstand with a pitcher of water and a basin. When the young man had left, Emma said, “Well, here we are, ready to embark on this crazy scheme.”
“It’s not so crazy,” Gabrielle said, taking off her bonnet. “Papa transferred gold for the Rothschilds many times.”
Emma took off her own hat, baring her dyed red hair. “That may be true, but you never had to masquerade as the wife of a strange Englishman before!”
“Mr. Rothschild insisted. It’s stupid, of course. He should know we can be trusted to get his gold to Biarritz without an English bodyguard to make us more noticeable.” Gabrielle looked disgusted. “If Papa were still alive they would never have thought of doing this.”
Emma said, “On the other hand, it will be nice to have someone along who will be responsible for the gold besides us.” She put her bonnet on a walnut chest with a lace runner on the top. “If something bad happens, he can take the blame.”
“Nothing bad is going to happen,” Gabrielle said firmly. “Except I am going to have to pretend this anglais is my husband.”
“I hope he is a gentleman,” Emma said nervously. “Just think, Gabrielle, you may have to share your bedroom with him!”
“Don’t worry, Emma, nothing is going to happen.”
Gabrielle smiled. “I will keep my trusty knife handy, believe me. If he tries anything, I’ll skewer him.”
Emma shivered. “Please God it will not come to that.”
“I doubt it will,” Gabrielle said soothingly. “Mr. Rothschild said the man is a colonel on his way back to the army after being wounded. A colonel should be a gentleman.”
“I hope so,” Emma said “There’s a dining room downstairs,” Gabrielle said. “Let’s go and get something to eat. I’m starving.”
Emma smiled in agreement. “We don’t often get the chance to eat in a hotel of this quality.”
The two women removed their pelisses, hung them in the wardrobe and went down to the dining room.
The earl arrived in Brussels the following afternoon to meet Gabrielle Robichon. He checked into his room at the hotel and was told that the ladies were out. He asked to be notified when they came back.
At five o’clock a hotel employee brought him word that Mesdames Rieux and Dumas had returned and would receive him in room 203. The earl, who was on the third floor, went down a flight of stairs and knocked at the designated door. It was opened by a middle-aged woman with dyed red hair and faintly slanted green eyes. She was wearing rouge.
“Good afternoon,” the earl said pleasantly. “I am Colonel Leo Standish.”
“Good heavens,” the woman said, staring up at him. Then, visibly gathering her wits, she opened the door wider and said, “Come in, Colonel.”
The earl stepped into the room. A charmingly husky voice said, “How do you do, Colonel. I am Gabrielle Robichon Rieux.”
He turned slightly and looked into the huge brown eyes of one of the loveliest girls he had ever seen. Her shining brown hair was parted in the middle and drawn back into a single braid that went halfway down her back. Her nose was small and delicate and her lips were clear-cut and perfect. She was holding out her hand but she was not smiling. He crossed the floor to take her hand into his own. She was quite small; her head did not reach the top of his shoulder, but her handshake was as firm as a man’s.
“You are married?” he said in surprise.
“I was married,” she replied matter-of-factly. “Now I am a widow.”
“You’re very young to be a widow,” he said. He was a little discomposed. He had not expected her to be so pretty.
She shrugged, a very Gallic gesture. “This stupid war has made widows of many young women. I am sure that is true in your country as well.”
“Unfortunately, it is. Was your husband killed in the war?” he asked.
“No. He was kicked in the forehead by one of the circus horses.” Her face was grave. “It was such a stupid accident. André lifted the horse’s rear foot to clean it and Sandi kicked out—something he never does. It was just bad luck that he got André in the head.”
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“We had only been married for a few months. It was very sad,” Gabrielle said. “And now let me introduce you to my companion, Madame Emma Dumas.”
He turned to the older woman and held out his hand. “How do you do, Madame Dumas.”
They shook hands and then he turned back to Gabrielle. “I appreciate the awkwardness of this situation for you, Madame Rieux. You are very generous, allowing me to masquerade as your husband.”
She shrugged again. “I myself do not think it is necessary, but Monsieur Rothschild insisted. Frankly, Colonel, you are likely to call more attention to us than to be a help.”
He said stiffly, “I will do the best I can to blend into the circus, madame. You are carrying a huge amount of money that is vital to the British forces. It is only natural that the army wants someone along to keep an eye on it.”
She bristled visibly. “Monsieur Rothschild trusted Papa implicitly!”
“But your father is not here any longer,” he pointed out. “And even if he was, the army would probably want to have someone go along.”
She crossed her arms and eyed him up and down. “You are not the sort of person who can easily blend in,” she said.
He was annoyed. “I will do the best that I can, madame.”
There was a little silence. Then she said, “If we are to be married you must call me by my Christian name, Gabrielle.”
“And you must call me Leo,” he said.
“Leo,” she said. Then, briskly, “It is too late to leave Brussels today. We should plan on leaving early tomorrow morning. That way we will make Lille before it gets dark.”
He asked, “The circus is at Lille now?”
“Yes. We wintered there. We usually begin our tour in mid March, so we will be starting a little earlier than usual. But not so much earlier as to make us noticeable, I think.”
“Very well.” He looked at Emma. “May I invite you ladies to have dinner with me this evening?”
“Thank you,” Emma replied with dignity. “That will be very nice.”
Gabrielle nodded.
“At seven o’clock, in the dining room?” he asked.
“That will be fine,” Emma replied.
He gave the women a perfunctory smile and went to the door. It had not quite closed when he heard Emma say, “Whoever would have thought our escort would look like that?”
The door closed before he could hear Gabrielle’s reply.
The dining room of the Hôtel Royale was small, with room for perhaps thirty people. When Gabrielle and Emma entered they saw Leo immediately; he was sitting at a table near the fireplace.
“Good evening, ladies,” he said, rising to greet them.
“Good evening,” the two women replied in unison.
A waiter held Gabrielle’s chair and she seated herself, carefully arranging her plain yellow silk evening dress. Emma, who was dressed in emerald green, was seated as well.
Gabrielle looked at the man who was to pretend to be her husband for the next month. André would be jealous, she thought as she took in Leo’s clean-cut features, his blue-green eyes and his thick golden hair. She noted the breadth of his shoulders underneath his black evening coat. This man was very different from André, who had been dark, whippet-slim and only a few inches taller than herself.
He’s big enough to carry water and help with the tent, she thought. She looked at the unconsciously arrogant tilt of his head. He’ll probably think those tasks are beneath him, though.
The waiter was standing by to take their order and she gave her attention to the menu. Once they had chosen, Leo looked at Gabrielle and said, “So tell me about your circus. How many people do you employ and what do they do?”
Gabrielle folded her hands in her yellow silk lap and replied, “It is called the Cirque Equestre because we feature horses. We have five Arabians who perform at liberty, we have a grand old fellow who is our rosinback, and we have two Lipizzaners that are trained to High School and who do a pas de deux. They also perform individually.”
Leo held up his hand to stop her. “You have Lipizzaners trained in High School?” he asked incredulously.
“Yes. Two of them. Papa was able to buy them off the farm in Austria and he trained them himself.”
“He trained them with your help, Gabrielle,” Emma put in.
“Papa had the knowledge. I just followed what he said to do.”
Leo said in amazement, “I had no idea you had horses of this quality.”
Gabrielle was insulted. “Did you think we were just a carnival? I’ll have you know that the Cirque Equestre is well-known for its horses.”
Amusement glinted in his eyes. “I did not mean to denigrate you. Forgive me. It’s just that I am very interested in classically trained horses. I had an opportunity to see some Lusitanos in Portugal and I thought they were marvelous.”
Gabrielle didn’t care for the amusement, but she accepted the apology by nodding gracefully. When she spoke she kept her voice cool. “Portugal has a wonderful history of classically trained horses. France, of course, did also, but the Revolution destroyed it. Papa was determined to keep alive the tradition as best he could. All of our horses are classically trained.”
“That’s wonderful. Who rides your Lipizzaners?”
“I do. And my brother Mathieu accompanies me in the pas de deux.”
“I look forward to seeing them perform,” he said with such obvious sincerity that Gabrielle was appeased.
She smiled at him. He did not smile back.
Very well, monsieur, she thought with annoyance. If you want to be all business, then we will be all business.
“How many people do you employ?” he asked.
“The part of the circus that is permanent is my family—myself and my brothers, Mathieu and Albert. Then there’s Gerard, who is our ringmaster, and Emma and her dogs. That makes five. Then we have the acts that accompany us.”
“And what acts are those?”
“First there is the circus band—that is four members. Then there is Luc Balzac, our equestrian, Henri and Franz and Carlotta Martin, who are rope dancers, and the Maronis, who are tumblers—there are four of them. Sully is our clown, and Paul Gronow, our juggler.” She tilted her head a little. “How many is that? I have lost count.”
“Fourteen plus the five permanent members,” he said.
“Oh, and we employ two grooms.”
He nodded. “Which of these people know about the gold?”
“Myself, my two brothers—” she smiled at her companion “—Emma and Gerard. The people who winter with us.”
“What about the grooms?”
“Jean and Cesar don’t winter with us. They report to the circus when we are ready to set out.”
“So, five people. And everyone else will think that we are married?”
“Yes,” she said. “I suppose it is good that you are so handsome. That will make it more believable that I should marry a noncircus man.”
“Thank you,” he said sarcastically.
She shrugged. “I speak the truth. You are going to be difficult to explain. You will have to work, though. You can’t just stand around and do nothing. Everyone who knows me knows I would never marry a man like that.”
Leo just looked at her.
“What do you think you could do?” she asked.
“I have no idea,” he replied shortly. “Just don’t expect me to perform. I’ll help out with the labor end of things, but I’m not getting up in front of people and making an ass of myself.”
Her eyes glittered. “Our performers are all trained artistes, Leo,” she said. “I wouldn’t dream of putting an amateur in our ring.”
“Good,” he said. “Then we understand each other. I’m here to get the gold to Wellington. If I have to work, I will. But not in public.”
She folded her lips in a stern line. “Very well.”
The first course was served. What the hell can we talk about? he thought. What do I have in common with circus people?
Gabrielle said conversationally, “It looks as if we are seeing the last days of Napoléon. His grande armée was destroyed in Russia and soon your General Wellington will defeat his army in Spain.”
The war was something Leo could always talk about and he responded appropriately. The war and international affairs carried them through dinner, and when he got up to escort the ladies out of the dining room, Leo was feeling slightly better. If he was going to have to spend the next month shackled to a female circus player, it was a help that she seemed to be intelligent.
Three
The following morning, Leo met his traveling companions in the hotel lobby, where they were waiting for their coach to be brought up. He was dressed in a rust-colored riding coat, breeches and high boots—an appropriate outfit for a circus, he thought.
Gabrielle frowned when she saw him. “Those clothes are all right for dress-up,” she said, “but you can’t dress like that around the circus.”
He was dumbfounded. He had thought he was dressed down. “What do you suggest I wear?” he asked a trifle acerbically.
“Trousers, low boots, a shirt—without the tie—and I suppose you can wear that jacket to keep warm. We’ll stop in a town along the way and do some shopping. I have a feeling that nothing you have with you is appropriate.”
Leo looked at his portmanteau and said sarcastically, “Can I at least keep my underwear?”
He would never in a million years have mentioned underwear to an English lady.
But Gabrielle didn’t blink. “Yes, you can keep your underwear. But I will pick your outerwear. It’s important that you don’t raise any suspicions. We can’t do anything that may call attention to ourselves.”
She was right, and he was annoyed that she was right. He was also annoyed that she looked so pretty, standing there with the chandelier light shining off her beautiful silky brown hair.
“Where’s your bonnet?” he asked abruptly.
“In the hatbox,” she replied. “I hate wearing bonnets. They are so confining.”
Emma, who was wearing a bonnet, said, “Nevertheless you should wear it, chérie.”
“I made my impression coming into the hotel. Now that I am leaving I can do as I like.”
Emma rolled her eyes. Gabrielle patted the circle of braids that crowned her head. “Besides, I can’t fit a bonnet over these braids.”
Leo said, “I was under the impression that short hair was in vogue for women.”
“It’s not in vogue for circus performers,” Gabrielle informed him haughtily.
Leo was conscious of a fleeting feeling of approval. It would be a shame to cut off all that lovely hair. He found himself looking forward to seeing it down.
Good God, he thought in horror as he realized what he was thinking. I can’t become attracted to this circus girl. That would be disastrous.
“Here is the carriage,” he said crisply, grateful for the distraction. “Are you ready, ladies?”
Gerard stopped the carriage in front of the hotel door and the three of them went out to meet it.
Gabrielle’s attempt to buy clothing for Leo was not very successful; he was too tall for any of the trousers they looked at, although they did manage to buy some plain white cotton shirts that were more appropriate than his own custom-tailored ones.
“I can make him some trousers,” Emma finally said to Gabrielle, and so they bought material instead.
Leo found himself alternating between indignation and amusement at the way the two women treated him. You would think I was five years old, he thought, as Gabrielle held a shirt up in front of him and nodded that it would be all right. They made their purchases and returned to the carriage for the final leg of the journey into Lille.
The circus was gathered on the outskirts of the city, on the farm that Gabrielle’s family had rented for the winter months. As they drove in, Leo saw a collection of a dozen or so wagons parked in a big field. Gerard drove past the wagons, however, and went directly to the farmhouse, where his passengers alighted.
A slender young man, who looked like a masculine copy of Gabrielle, came out to meet the carriage.
“Leo, this is my brother, Mathieu,” Gabrielle said. “Mathieu, this is my new husband, Leo Standish.”
“How do you do, Mathieu,” Leo said.
Mathieu looked from Leo to Gabrielle. “He’s going to be very hard to hide. He’s so big—and he certainly doesn’t look French.”
“I know, but there’s nothing we can do about it,” Gabrielle said. “He’s what Monsieur Rothschild sent us.”
“What if we said he was Swedish?” Mathieu asked. “Would people know that his accent was English and not Swedish?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Leo said flatly. He did not at all appreciate being talked about as if he wasn’t there. “If someone does recognize my English accent they will wonder why you are attempting to disguise me.”
Mathieu frowned, clearly not liking having his idea so summarily rejected.
“All circuses are international,” Gabrielle said briskly. “The Maronis are Italian, after all, Mathieu, and the Cirque Barent has an English clown. It will be all right. Now, can we go into the house instead of standing here in the front yard?”
Leo had to duck his head as he went through the front door. The room that he found himself in was the main living room of the farmhouse. It was furnished with heavy oak furniture and on the walls were a series of rural landscapes. As if on cue, a fawn-colored greyhound came racing up to Gabrielle. She bent to caress the beautiful, deerlike head. “Colette, my darling. How are you? Did you miss me?”
The dog sniffed her clothes and her hands.
“She was a lost soul without you,” Mathieu said. “You have her so spoiled, Gabrielle, that she just pines away when you are gone.”
“Poor little girl,” Gabrielle crooned. “I missed you, too.”
Leo loved dogs. “What a beautiful animal,” he said. The dog turned her head as if she had understood him. He snapped his fingers and she came to him, allowing him to caress her with royal grace. Then she returned to Gabrielle.
There was a rush at the door and more dogs came dashing in. “Mes enfants!” Emma cried. “Here you are!”
Leo looked at the six small terriers that were leaping around Emma. “Good heavens,” he said.
Emma smiled at him. “These are my trained dogs. You will see them in action when we perform.”
The room was very crowded with dogs. Emma said to Gabrielle, “I will take them outside and then upstairs to my room.” She held the door open and the dogs scampered out, followed by Emma.
Gabrielle turned to her brother. “Where is Albert?”
“He went down to the barn to check on the horses. He’ll be back soon,” Mathieu said.
“Albert is your other brother?” Leo asked.
“Yes. He is two years younger than Mathieu.”
“And how old are you, Mathieu?” Leo asked.
“Nineteen,” the boy replied.
Leo’s eyes went to Gabrielle, who was standing with one hand resting on her dog’s head. “Who owns the circus?” he asked. “I thought it was you.”
“My brothers and I own it together,” she replied, “but Papa put me in charge because I am the eldest.”
“How old are you?” Leo asked curiously.
“Twenty-two,” she replied.
Emma said, “Here is Albert now.”
A young boy who looked like Mathieu, but whose hair was several shades lighter, came into the room.
“Gabrielle!” He went to hug her. “Everything went all right?”
“Yes. Albert, this is Leo, my new husband.”
The brown eyes that fixed themselves on Leo’s face were a lighter shade than Mathieu’s and Gabrielle’s. “Hello,” he said. “You are the English colonel?”
“That’s right.” Leo held out his hand. “I am pleased to meet you, Albert. But call me Leo.”
“The horses are all right?” Gabrielle said.
Albert nodded.
“Good. Now, is there any food in the kitchen? We pushed on to make it here this evening and we missed dinner.”
“I think there’s some cold meat and bread,” Mathieu said.
“I’ll go and fix something,” Gabrielle said. “In the meanwhile, you boys can show Leo to his room.”
Both boys looked at her. Albert said, “Which room is his? There is no extra room.”
“He’s going to stay in my room,” Gabrielle said. “It would look distinctly odd if he did not.”
Both boys frowned and looked at Leo.
“Your sister will be perfectly safe,” Leo said. “The only consequence she might suffer from this masquerade is a little embarrassment.”
“I am never embarrassed,” Gabrielle said. “Go along now and take him upstairs.”
The two boys and Leo, who was carrying his portmanteau, went up the stairs with obedient alacrity.
Gabrielle fixed a plate of cold roast beef and sliced bread, which she set on the kitchen table. Emma was already sitting at the table when the boys and Leo joined them. Mathieu and Albert had already eaten, but they sat at the table, anyway, clearly wanting to hear whatever the conversation was going to be.
Gabrielle sat down and put some meat on her plate. She looked at her two brothers, then she looked at Leo. He was piling roast beef on his plain, slightly chipped white plate.
He looks down on us, she thought. He is an English colonel and we are just circus folk. I foresee an uncomfortable four weeks ahead.
Leo looked up from his meal. “Has the gold been loaded?”
Gabrielle looked at Mathieu. “Yes,” he said. “Monsieur Rothschild’s men came three days ago and transferred it into our wagons. No one saw them. The rest of the wagons only came yesterday.”
“I would like to see the gold myself,” Leo said.
Gabrielle was insulted. “Do you think we would lie to you?”
“Not at all. But since I have been charged with getting it safely to Portugal, I must see it.”
He doesn’t trust us, she thought. She said coolly, “Better to look tomorrow morning, when we are loading up to go. It will look strange to the rest of them if you start poking around the wagons now.”
He looked annoyed. “Of course,” he said in a clipped voice.
She pressed on. “As I believe I told you, my family, Emma and Gerard are the only ones who know about the gold. We don’t want to do anything to raise suspicion in the others.”
“I said I agreed with you.” His annoyance showed in his voice. “I’ll wait until tomorrow to check it.”
Gabrielle was pleased. She had gotten under his guard. She rewarded him with a smile.
He stared back, his face impassive. He was the first man she had ever met who did not respond to her smile. The smile died away from her lips and she regarded him thoughtfully. Did he never smile himself? She could not remember seeing him smile once during that long dull ride from Brussels to Lille—he had not even smiled when they were buying clothes and he had looked so funny in the jacket he had tried on.
Was he always like this, or was it just because he was with people he thought were beneath him?
Don’t brood about it, Gabrielle, she told herself. You only have to put up with him for four weeks and then your duty will be done and he will go back to his regiment. Let him be as sour as he pleases. It can’t bother you.
“Everything is ready,” Albert said. “Do you want to leave tomorrow?”
“Is everyone else ready?”
“Yes, we were just waiting for you,” Mathieu said.
“There’s no point in waiting, then,” Gabrielle replied. “The sooner we leave the sooner we will get our cargo to its destination.”
“What is your agenda?” Leo asked abruptly.
“Our first stop is Amiens,” she said. “We will spend one day traveling and then two days in Amiens, where we will give four performances—one in the afternoons and one in the evenings. Vincent, our advance man, has gone ahead to Amiens to procure a field for us and to book lodgings.”
He frowned. “You didn’t mention Vincent.”
She lifted a delicate eyebrow. “Didn’t I? I suppose I forgot because he’s our advance man, he doesn’t travel with us, he travels ahead of us. We meet him at a designated spot and he takes us to the field he has rented and gives us directions to the lodgings he has procured.”
“He puts our bills up all around town, too,” Albert said eagerly. “Here, I’ll show you one.” He jumped up and went into the living room, coming back with a paper in his hand. Leo took it.
ROBICHON CIRQUE EQUESTRE
A GRAND EQUESTRIAN DISPLAY
STARRING
MLLE GABRIELLE ROBICHON
DANCING HORSES!
HORSES AT LIBERTY!
JUGGLING!
TIGHTROPE DANCING!
DARING FEATS OF HORSEMANSHIP!
M. LUC BALZAC!
M. SULLY, the Clown!
TUMBLING!
TRAINED DOGS!
THE COURIER OF ST. PETERSBURG!
Performances
12:00 and 4:00
“Very nice,” Leo said, looking up from the circus bill. “But there is no direction.”
“Vincent will write the direction on each bill before he posts it,” Emma explained. “He’ll also write the days of the week we will be performing.”
Leo nodded and handed the bill back to Albert.
Emma stood abruptly. “There is a trundle bed in my room, Gabrielle. Shall I have one of the boys bring it into your room for Leo?”
Everyone stared at Leo as the thought of their sleeping arrangements was introduced.
Gabrielle suppressed the urge to laugh. “I own I would like to see the sight of Leo trying to sleep on a trundle bed.”
“You forget I have been in the army for five years,” he said imperturbably. “A trundle bed will look good compared to some of the places I have slept.”
“Good,” Emma said briskly. “Mathieu, come upstairs with me and we will move that bed.”
Mathieu got to his feet. He looked at Leo suspiciously. “Where are you going to sleep when we are on the road? There will only be one bed in the room Vincent rents for you.”
“If I have to sleep on the floor, I will,” Leo said a little impatiently. “I’ve done it before.”
Mathieu’s brown eyes searched his face and seemed to be satisfied with what he saw there. He nodded and turned to follow Emma out of the room.
“I’m going to walk down to the barn to see the horses,” Gabrielle said. “Would you like to come, Leo?”
“Yes, I would.”
“Come along, then,” she said. “Albert, if you will put the dishes in the sink, I will wash them when I get back.”
Gabrielle picked up a lantern from beside the kitchen door and lighted it from a candle, her greyhound going immediately to her side. Gabrielle turned to Leo and gave him what she hoped was a superior look. “We can go out this way,” she said. “Do try to keep up.”
Four
The lantern threw a yellow light on the path before them and Leo took it from Gabrielle’s hands, saying, “Let me carry that.”
They crossed the yard, the dog leading the way, and went down a path that led to a large barn. When they had driven in earlier, Leo had seen that it looked rather ramshackle, but now in the dark it was simply a great looming building in front of them. The door was open and inside smelled like horses and hay.
He held up the lantern to illuminate the area.
“This way,” Gabrielle said. “We’ll say hello to the Lipizzaners first.” Her voice softened. “Hello there, fellow.”
Leo heard a soft nicker, and a white face loomed up out of the darkness of the stall. Gabrielle rubbed the white forehead and straightened a forelock. She gave the horse a piece of sugar, then opened his stall door to check if he had a full bucket of water.
“This is Sandi,” she said. “Neapolitano Santuzza, to be formal about it.”
“He’s small,” Leo said in surprise.
“Lipizzaners aren’t tall, like thoroughbreds. They are built for collected work, not for running races. He has marvelous muscles, though. You will see them tomorrow.”
“I’m looking forward to seeing him perform,” Leo said sincerely. It was the one good thing he had heard about this circus. He might have to put up with tumblers and clowns, he thought, but at least he would get to see Lipizzaners in action.
Gabrielle moved to the next stall, the greyhound at her heels. “And this is Conversano Nobilia, also known as Noble.”
Another white head appeared out of the darkness and another piece of sugar was snapped up. Once again Gabrielle checked the water.
“How old are they?” Leo asked.
“Sandi is twelve and Noble is thirteen. But Lipizzaners can work for a long time. Some of the horses that perform at the Spanish Riding School in Vienna are in their twenties.”
“That is remarkable,” Leo said. “Thoroughbreds can’t match that.”
“Thoroughbreds are beautiful animals, but they are no good for a circus. My father used to say all they are good for is going fast.”
“But they do that extremely well.”
He saw her white teeth gleam in the lantern light. “Yes, they do. I must say I have a wish to ride a thoroughbred one day. It must be like sitting on the wind.”
“That’s a good way of putting it,” he said approvingly.
She moved gracefully across the aisle to another stall. “And these are our Arabians,” she said. “They perform at liberty. You will be amazed at what they do.”
He followed her to the next stall. “At liberty?” he asked.
“Yes, they have no bridle or saddle and they go by themselves in a circle, turning and reversing and circling at the slightest signal—without a hand touching them. It is an act Papa invented and it always gets a rapturous response from the audience.”
“It sounds impressive,” he said, noting the pride in her voice.
“This is Kania,” she continued, offering sugar. She then went down the line, checking water and naming each horse as it came forward for its treat: “This is Shaitan, this is Sheiky, this is Fantan, and this is Dubai.”
Each of the horses had the dished face and wide forehead of the true Arabian. All of the horses were pure white.
They recrossed the aisle to the Lipizzaner side of the barn. “And this is our darling Coco, our rosinback horse.”
“What is a rosinback?” he asked curiously.
“Coco is the horse most of the trick riding is done on. We put rosin on his back so that the vaulters’ slippers won’t slide.” She patted his white face. “He’s part Percheron and he’s a sweetheart.”
When she spoke to her horses her voice was soft and full of love. For the first time, Leo found himself liking this circus girl.
“Are these all your performance horses?” he asked.
“Yes. The next horses in line are our wagon horses. They deserve a treat, too.” They went along the line and fed eight more horses, who came as eagerly for their sugar as the elite horses had.
“I’m looking forward to seeing them all in the light of day,” Leo said as he accompanied Gabrielle to the door. The greyhound preceded them out.
“They are lovely horses,” she said. “My papa picked them all. He used to be Master of the Horse under the late king, you know.”
“So Rothschild told me. He also told me that your father died recently. I am sorry for your loss.”
“We miss him very much,” she said softly. “It is a big responsibility for me, to try to run the circus the way he would have wanted. But I have the help of my brothers and Emma and Gerard.”
He glanced down at the girl at his side. It was a lot of responsibility to rest on those slender shoulders, he thought. And she had had the courage to take on Rothschild’s gold, too.
“Your brothers are very young.”
“Yes, but Papa trained them well.”
“I noticed that it was your name on the circus bill.”
“I am the featured rider and trainer, yes. Mathieu and Albert are good riders, but not as good as I.” She said this perfectly matter-of-factly. “I have Papa’s touch with horses, you see.”
They were approaching the door to the farmhouse kitchen and he held up the lantern to illuminate the door-knob.
“Who is Luc Balzac, the other equestrian mentioned on the bill?” he asked.
He noticed the faintest change in her voice as she answered. “Oh, Luc is a wonderful rider. You will have to see him to believe what he can do.”
She pushed open the kitchen door and went inside, followed by Leo. As he extinguished the lantern she went to the sink. “I will just wash up these dishes,” she said. “You can dry.”
He looked up from the lantern. “I beg your pardon?”
“I said, you can dry these dishes after I wash them. Here is a towel.”
He stared at the towel she was holding out as if it was a poisonous snake. She chuckled, a rich, husky sound that was thoroughly delightful. “Have you never dried dishes before?” she asked disbelievingly.
“No, I have not,” he replied defensively.
“Well, now is a good time to start,” she said. “In the circus we all have to do a little of everything.”
He considered telling her to go to the devil, but then his common sense stepped in. I suppose I must blend in, he thought. It’s only for a month.
He came forward and took the towel from her hand. He waited while she washed a plate in a pan of water and then he dried it.
“See?” she said, giving him a smile. “It’s not so bad.”
He looked back impassively. “It’s a new experience,” he said.
Her smile faded and she turned away, plunked another plate in the pan and washed it.
It was about ten o’clock at night when everyone went to bed. There was a tense silence as they all went up the stairs and Leo and Gabrielle went together into her room.
“I will be right next door if you need me,” Mathieu told his sister meaningfully.
“I’m sure I won’t,” she replied. “Anyway, I have Colette. Get some sleep, Mathieu, and stop worrying about me.”
“Good night, chérie,” Emma said, and kissed her on the cheek.
“Good night,” Gabrielle replied. She opened the door to her bedroom. “Come along, Leo,” she said, then went into the room, leaving the door open for him.
She talks to me exactly as if I was her dog, Leo thought indignantly as he followed her in, candle in hand.
The bedroom was not large. It had a four-poster bed, and at its foot a narrow trundle bed had been made up with a quilt and a pillow. There was one nightstand and a wardrobe and a single straight chair in front of the fireplace.
Pretty dismal, Leo thought, thinking of his own sumptuous bedroom at home.
The dog jumped onto the bed and settled herself along the bottom. He looked at her for a moment before he turned to Gabrielle. “Is this your farm?” he asked.
“No, we rented it for the winter. It is not so easy to find a place for four months that has the stabling we require, so we have to take what we can get. We had this place last winter and I was lucky enough to get it again this year. They are looking to sell it, but the wartime economy is bad.” She paused and gazed around the tiny room.
“Getting dressed and undressed is going to be a problem,” she finally said. “There is no private dressing room in any of the places where we will be staying. If we turn our backs on each other can I trust you not to look?”
“Certainly,” he said stiffly.
“All right. I will get undressed in front of the wardrobe and you can get undressed on the far side of the bed. Don’t look until I say it’s all right.”
Leo said, “I had intended to sleep in my clothing.”
“Don’t be stupid,” she replied. “You don’t have that many changes and we don’t have much chance to do laundry. Don’t you have a nightshirt with you?”
He did not enjoy being called stupid and replied even more stiffly than before. “As a matter of fact, I do.”
“Then put it on,” she ordered. “I have been a married woman. I have seen a man in a nightshirt before. You won’t shock me.”
The humor of the situation suddenly struck him. He was sounding as if he was a virgin, he thought. His mouth quirked into a smile. Very well, he thought, if he wasn’t going to scandalize her in his nightshirt he would be very much more comfortable than he would be sleeping in his clothes.
“All right,” he said. He lifted his portmanteau onto the bed, extracted a nightshirt and turned his back. “I won’t turn around until you tell me I can,” he said.
“Good.” He heard her walking toward the wardrobe. Silence fell as he removed his clothing and slid the nightshirt over his head. The bedroom was cold and he moved quickly. It was about three minutes before he heard her say, “All right. You can look now.”
He turned around and she was wearing a long white flannel gown with a collar and buttons. Her hair was still fixed into a coronet around her small head. “You can have the bed. I’ll fit in the trundle bed much better than you.”
“I wouldn’t dream of taking your bed,” he said with surprise. “No gentleman would consign a lady to a cot while he slept in comfort.”
“You may be a gentleman, but I’m not a lady,” Gabrielle said. “I’m a practical woman who works for her living. And it’s ridiculous to fold you up on that bed when I shall be perfectly comfortable there.”
As if to prove her point, she went over to the trundle and sat down. Then she reached up and began to remove the pins from her braids. “Go ahead,” she said. “Get into bed. It’s cold in this room and your legs are bare.”
He was slightly scandalized. There was no other way to put it. Leo was far from being a virgin, but he was a little off balance with this girl who coped so matter-offactly with their intimacy.
“What about the dog?” he asked.
“She always sleeps on the bed. She won’t bother you. You have plenty of room.”
Slowly he pulled the covers back from the bed and got in. He watched in silence as she unbraided her hair and let it fall loose around her shoulders and down her back. Then she took a ribbon and tied it at the nape of her neck.
She caught him looking at her. “Good night, Leo,” she said pointedly.
“Good night…Gabrielle,” he replied.
She nodded with satisfaction. “That is the first time you have said my name. It’s not so bad, is it? Will you blow the candle out?”
He blew the candle out and listened to the small sounds she made as she pulled the covers up around her and settled herself to sleep.
Well, he thought, the important thing is to get the gold to Wellington. If I have to put up with a snip of a girl ordering me around I suppose I can endure it.
The bulk of Colette was warm against his chilly feet. He closed his eyes and went to sleep.
Gabrielle woke in the middle of the night, something that was unusual for her. For a moment she was disoriented, finding herself in a strange bed. Then she remembered that she was in the trundle bed and she also remembered who was sharing the room with her.
Leo. It suited him, she thought, a big golden lion of a man. And his eyes—never had she seen that shade of aquamarine. There was an aloof look in those eyes, however. She knew he was not happy to be joining a circus.
Perhaps he is the younger son of some great lord, she thought. Perhaps that is why he sought to make the army his career.
She lay quietly and listened. The room was silent. If she listened very carefully she could hear Leo breathing.
He doesn’t snore. That’s nice. André used to snore and I would have to push him to turn him over.
Her thoughts turned to her dead husband and sadness overcame her. He had been so full of energy, André. It wasn’t fair that life had been taken from him at such a young age.
Two years ago he was alive. Two years ago we shared a room together, and now I share it with this stranger, this cold Englishman who thinks he is better than the rest of us.
How he had looked when she told him to turn his back and undress! She swallowed a giggle. The circus will take the starch out of him, she thought. I’ll see to that.
Five
When Gabrielle arose the following morning Leo heard her and sat up in bed. It was still dark.
“We need to be on the road early,” she said. She lit a candle. “I want to be in Amiens by late afternoon. Turn your back so I can get dressed. Then I will get out of your way.”
He obliged and listened to the sounds she made as she got into her clothes. Then she said, “All right.”
He turned to look at her and found her clad in high boots, a brown divided skirt and a white, long-sleeved shirt. “Come downstairs when you are ready and Emma will prepare you breakfast,” she said.
He watched her small, straight, slender back disappear out the door, followed by her dog, then he got up and opened the package of clothing they had bought yesterday. He took out a coarse cotton shirt and regarded it with distaste. It pulled on over the head and had a tie at the neck. He put the shirt on and then his breeches. The shirt was loose and billowed out of his tight breeches.
I must look a sight, he thought ruefully. If Fitz and the others could see me now, how they would laugh.
He pulled on his boots and went down to the kitchen to see what was for breakfast.
Emma was in the kitchen with her dogs when he entered. “Good morning, Leo,” she said cheerfully. “Did you sleep well?”
“Yes, I did,” he replied courteously.
Six dogs looked at him, but none came to sniff him. They remained where they were, curled up on an old quilt under the window.
Emma got up from her chair and went to the counter. “There is coffee and bread and butter,” she said.
He was used to an English breakfast, with eggs and meat, and the proffered bread seemed rather paltry. But, “That will be fine” was all he said, and let her pour him his coffee and add milk in the French way. Then he took his plate and went to the table.
“Where is everyone else?” he asked as he took a long drink of the coffee.
“Getting the wagons ready,” she replied.
“There looked to be quite a few wagons in the field,” he remarked. “How many are in the caravan?”
“Let me think.” She frowned slightly. “I have a wagon, the Robichons have two wagons, and the Martins—they are the tightrope dancers—have one. The Maroni brothers—they are the tumblers—have one, and Sully, our clown, shares a wagon with Paul Gronow, our juggler. Luc Balzac has a wagon. Then there is the bandwagon. That makes eight, I believe. Then we have two more wagons filled with hay and grain, and one for the tents and one for benches. So that makes twelve altogether.”
“That’s not a lot to house a whole circus.”
“The horses are our chief performers, and they get tied behind the wagons.”
The kitchen door opened and Mathieu and Albert came in. They were dressed in trousers, scuffed boots and knitted sweaters. “All that’s left to do is to harness up the horses,” Mathieu said. “Is there more coffee, Emma?”
“Where is your sister?” Leo asked Albert as Emma poured both boys a cup.
“She went back upstairs to pack her clothes.”
“All the costumes are packed, I hope,” Emma said.
Leo decided it was time to discuss their important cargo. “I would like to see the gold, if you please.”
Mathieu scowled. “I can show you where it is,” Albert offered. He stood up and started for the door. Leo followed him.
“Make sure there is no chance of anyone coming in on you, Albert,” Mathieu warned.
“I know,” the boy replied. “Come with me, Leo, and I will show you.”
They exited the kitchen and began to walk across the field to where the wagons were parked in two lines. Most of the wagons had horses picketed next to them. The sun had come up and Leo was conscious of people looking at him curiously as he walked with Albert.
“How long has your sister’s husband been dead?” he asked Albert. “Will people think it’s odd that she has married again?”
“André has been dead for a year and a half,” Albert said. “I don’t think people will be surprised that Gabrielle has remarried, but they will be surprised to find she has married a noncircus man. We will have to find something for you to do so you don’t look too odd.”
“I can help with the horses,” Leo said.
Albert cast him a dubious look. “We’ll see,” he said.
Leo was insulted. Evidently this slight boy didn’t think he was fit to be trusted with circus horses. “I assure you that I am capable of looking after a horse,” he said coldly. “I have been riding since I was four years old.”
Albert said carefully, “You see, our horses are different from the horses you rode, Leo.” By “different” it was clear that he meant “better.”
“And somehow I don’t see you carrying manure, which is what helping out with the horses entails.”
Leo hid his surprise. He hadn’t envisioned himself carrying manure, either, but he was certainly capable of doing so, if necessary. He said grimly, “If you need me to carry manure, then I can do it.”
“Let’s see what Gabrielle says,” Albert said. “She’s the one who doles out the jobs.”
They had reached the first wagon. “This is ours.”
The wagon was painted white, with the words Robichon Cirque Equestre written on its side in red letters. There was a picture of two horses’ heads painted under it.
Leo stopped to look at the picture. “The Lipizzaners?” he asked.
Albert nodded. “The one on the left is Sandi and the other one is Noble.”
The two pictures were clearly painted by one who knew horses.
“It’s a very good painting,” Leo said slowly, leaning in for a closer look. “Who did it?”
“I did,” Albert said.
Leo looked at him. “You have talent.”
A faint flush stained Albert’s cheeks. “I love to paint and draw,” he said.
“Do you have other pictures?” Leo asked.
“Yes. I have pictures of some of the places that we’ve visited. And I have done many pictures of the circus and its horses.”
“I’d like to see them,” Leo said.
The boy’s flush deepened. “I would be happy to show you.”
They had come to the back of the wagon, which had two doors that opened outward. Albert opened the doors and climbed in, followed by Leo.
The wagon was lined with trunks. “Extra costumes and props,” Albert explained. The center of the wagon was empty save for an old upholstered sofa and some large pillows. The floor was bare wooden boards. “Here,” Albert said. He went to the front of the sofa and dropped to his hands and knees. “See, this board is loose.” He took a knife out of his pocket, fitted it between the boards and pulled it up. “They were designed to fit together very tightly, but once you pry this one up, the rest of them can be lifted out.” He removed a few more boards. “Come and see,” he said.
Leo got down on his own knees and peered into the space that was revealed below the floorboards. “It’s too dark to see anything,” he said.
“Here, I’ll get a candle.” Albert rummaged through one of the trunks and took out a candle and a strike-alight. He lit the candle and brought it back to Leo, who used it to illuminate the shallow space below.
He saw a brown canvas bag. He lifted it out and pulled it open. Inside was a large pile of gold napoléon d’or coins. He nodded with satisfaction. “Excellent,” he said.
“Monsieur Rothschild had both our wagons fitted out like this. It is very clever, I think. The boards fit so closely together that they don’t have to be nailed.”
“Yes, it is clever,” Leo agreed slowly.
“Are you satisfied?” Albert asked.
Leo replaced the moneybag. “I’d like to see the other wagon,” he said.
Albert frowned. “It’s just like this one.”
“Nevertheless, I must verify that the gold is there.”
“As you wish,” Albert said stiffly, and led the way to the second wagon, which bore a picture of three horses all rearing in unison.
They both climbed into the wagon, which was loaded with saddles and bridles and more trunks. They repeated the same inspection that Leo had made of the other wagon, then replaced the floorboards and started back to the house.
“I take it your sister’s husband was a circus man,” Leo said easily as they walked side by side.
Albert looked up at him. “Oh, yes. André was a very great horseman. I have seen him jump two horses over four feet while he was standing on their backs.”
“Good God,” Leo said.
“Yes. Luc Balzac, who traveled with us last year, is a good equestrian, but he is not as good as André was.”
“What a pity that he should die so young.”
“It was terrible,” Albert confided. “Gabrielle was distraught. They had only been married a few months.”
“How sad,” Leo said gravely.
“Yes. Gabrielle was sad for a long time. But over the winter she seemed to become happy again. Emma says that she has gotten over it.”
They had reached the house and Leo did not reply. Albert opened the kitchen door and peered in. Leo heard Emma say, “Get yourself down to the barn, Albert. They need you to help harness the horses.”
“All right, Emma,” Albert said. He turned to Leo. “You can wait here with Emma and we’ll call you when we’re ready to go.”
“I’ll go down to the barn with you,” Leo said. He looked down at the old building where Mathieu was putting a harness on two hefty-looking draft horses. “Perhaps I can help by holding a horse or two.”
They arrived at the barn just as Gabrielle came out leading two more horses. “Albert,” she called when she saw them. “Harness up Jacques and Tonton. Leo, you can help by leading the harnessed horses out to the wagons and hitching them up.”
By eight o’clock they were ready to go. Gabrielle said to Leo, “Come with me and I will introduce you around before we leave.”
She walked next to him as they approached three people standing beside a wagon. Gabrielle smiled at them nervously. “I have come to introduce my new husband. Leo, this is Henri and Carlotta Martin and Henri’s brother, Franz, our rope dancers.” Both men had black hair and the woman was blond, wearing a cotton dress with a large blue shawl draped over her shoulders.
“I am pleased to meet you,” Leo said as genially as he could.
“A new husband?” Carlotta remarked. She arched a plucked brow. “And so handsome, Gabrielle.”
“I have high standards,” Gabrielle replied serenely.
Henri asked, “What do you do, Leo? You’re awfully big to be an equestrian.”
“I’m afraid I’m not a circus person,” Leo said. “But I will be happy to pitch in and help in any way I can.”
“Not a circus person?” Franz said. He could not have looked more shocked if Leo had announced he was a vampire.
Everyone looked at Gabrielle. “Where did you meet?” Carlotta asked.
“In Brussels,” Gabrielle said easily. “It was quite a whirlwind romance, and here we are.”
Carlotta gave Leo an arch smile. “Well, I can see why Gabrielle fell in love with you, Leo.”
Leo did not smile back. “Thank you, madame,” he said in an expressionless tone.
The smile faded from Carlotta’s face. “Don’t call me ‘madame.’ Everyone in this circus is on a first-name basis with everyone else.”
Evidently he had insulted her. Leo forced a smile to his face. “Then thank you, Carlotta,” he said.
Her smile bloomed again. “Gabrielle is a very lucky girl.”
“It is I who am the lucky one,” Leo replied gallantly.
“Come along,” Gabrielle said. “I want to introduce you to the others.”
The rest of the introductions went much the same as the first. Leo met the four Maroni brothers, who were tumblers; the four band members Adolphe and Antonio Laurent, and Pierre Maheu and his wife, Jeanne. Paul Gronow, the juggler; and Sully, the clown. The only introduction that sounded a note of trouble to come was Leo’s introduction to Luc Balzac, the equestrian.
“Married? When the hell did you get married?” he said angrily to Gabrielle when she introduced Leo.
Leo looked at him measuringly. He was a tall—though not nearly as tall as Leo—slender young man with black hair and blazing blue eyes.
“Quite recently,” Gabrielle said. There were spots of color in her cheeks.
“I thought you were still mourning your precious André.” There could be no doubt that the young man was furious. And hurt.
“I was, but then I met Leo and things changed. André wouldn’t mind. He would want me to be happy.”
Luc snorted and turned hostile eyes toward Leo. “So what do you do, pretty boy?”
Leo opened his mouth to give the antagonistic young man a scalding dressing down, but then he stopped himself. If he played the aristocrat he would betray his disguise. So he forced himself to reply dispassionately that he would be happy to help around the circus as best he could.
The angry blue eyes turned back to Gabrielle. “Christ, Gabrielle, you didn’t even marry a rider!”
“Leo can ride very well,” she said defensively. “He just does not perform.”
“Then what good is he?” Luc demanded.
Leo said firmly, “I am good for Gabrielle and she is good for me. We love each other and the circus has nothing to do with it.”
Good God, he thought. Where did that come from?
Gabrielle moved closer to him, so that he could feel her body actually touching his. “That is so, Luc, and you are just going to have to get used to it,” she said firmly.
“You said that someday you would marry me!”
“I never said any such thing,” she replied hotly. “I said I was not ready to marry again when you asked me. I never said anything about the future.”
“Merde!” Luc said.
Leo had had enough. “Watch your tongue. There is a lady present.”
Luc flicked him an angry blue glance. “Believe me, Gabrielle has heard much worse than that.”
“Not in my company,” Leo said grimly.
“What’s done is done, Luc,” Gabrielle said. “Now, we are ready to get moving so I suggest you get into your wagon.” She touched Leo’s arm with her hand. “Come along, Leo,” she said.
Just like a dog, he thought again as he trailed after her across the field to their wagon.
“Just who is this Luc Balzac?” he asked when they had reached their destination. “He obviously feels he had strings tied to you.”
She looked worried. “He wanted to marry me last year, but I put him off. I didn’t want to say no outright because I was afraid he would leave the show.”
“He loves you?”
“So he says. I wonder if he loves Papa’s circus even more.”
“You think he wants to marry you to get in on the circus?”
“The thought has crossed my mind,” she admitted.
“And how do you feel about him?”
“I feel that he is a very good act that I would like to keep in my circus,” she replied carefully. “So many of the truly great ones attach themselves to a stationary circus, like Astleys. I don’t want to lose Luc.”
“But not enough to marry him?”
“No, not enough to marry him. He has a dangerous temper. Not like my André, who was kind through and through.”
They reached the first wagon where Leo had inspected the gold earlier and Gabrielle turned to survey the field. Everybody was in their wagons. She put her foot on the step and Leo automatically moved to help her. She cast him a scornful glance. “I am not helpless.” She swung up to the seat, moved over and began to unwrap the reins. She glanced down at Leo. “Come up.”
He followed her into the seat and looked at her small gloved hands competently holding the reins. “Do you drive this thing? Where are your brothers?”
“Driving the other wagons,” she replied. She lifted the reins and made a kissing noise to the two horses in front of her. Obediently, they started forward. Gabrielle turned to Leo with a brilliant smile. “The start of another season. It is exciting, no?”
Leo didn’t smile back. He said, “I hope the season isn’t exciting at all. I just want to get this money to Biarritz.”
“We will,” Gabrielle said confidently. “I know we will.”
Six
The other wagons fell in behind Gabrielle and drove out of the field and onto the road. They would pass through Lille and then take the road south to Amiens.
“I wish you would let me drive,” Leo said. “I’m supposed to be helping out as best I can, remember?”
“You can drive when we get to the main road on the other side of Lille,” she said.
It sounded to him as if she didn’t trust him to get them through the city and Leo’s mouth set. He refrained from comment, however, and instead tried to make his legs as comfortable as he could.
“So, Leo, tell me about yourself,” Gabrielle said as they drove through the early-ploughed land on either side of them.
He looked at her. Her own eyes were on the road and her profile was so delicate and pretty that he was momentarily distracted. She turned her head to catch his eye and gave him an encouraging nod.
He had no intention of talking about himself to this girl. “There’s nothing much to tell,” he said stiffly. “I grew up, went to school, and when I got out I joined the army. End of story.”
After a moment she said wryly, “It’s a good thing you didn’t want to become a novelist. You’d have trouble filling up the pages.”
“What about you?” He tried turning the tables. “You must have led a far more exciting life than I.”
She shook her head. “Oh, no, don’t think you’re going to get off that easy! Where did you grow up, the country or the city? What school did you go to? Why did you join the army?”
Those things are none of your business. He thought the words but restrained himself from speaking them. He would have to stay on good terms with this girl; it would look suspicious if they were at odds with each other. He said grudgingly, “I grew up in the country, in the part of England that is called Sussex. It’s very pretty there, with rolling hills we call the Downs. My father had an estate and we had a lot of horses. I lived there until I was eight, then I went away to school.”
She turned to him and her brown eyes were full of pity. “You English! It is terrible how you push your children off to school when they are so young. You must not like children very much.”
He had never thought about such a thing. “I am sure English parents love their children quite as much as French parents,” he said defensively.
“Then why do they send their children away to school so early?”
They had left the farmland and were now driving along a city roadway, with gray stone residences on either side. A man walking a dog stopped to watch as they went by. Gabrielle waved to him.
Leo answered, “For the education, of course. It would be impossible to get as good an education at home. Schools have masters who are experts in a variety of fields of study.”
She clicked to the horses, which had turned their heads to observe a man painting an iron fence close to the road.
“That may be true for older children, but young children can learn all they need to know from a good tutor at home. Eight! Mon Dieu, that is outrageous.”
Leo didn’t think this remark merited a reply.
Gabrielle went on. “It is only the upper class who can afford to do such a thing, yes? Is your father a noble?”
He hesitated for a moment but could find no reason for not telling the truth. “Yes.”
“Ah-ha!” She gave him a triumphant grin. “I guessed that you were the younger son of a noble. Wasn’t I clever?”
“Very clever,” replied the eldest son of an earl.
“Is that why you went into the army, to make a career for yourself?”
He frowned. Was this interrogation ever going to end? “Yes,” he said shortly.
She nodded, as if satisfied.
He folded his arms. “Now it is your turn to tell me about yourself. Have you always traveled with the circus?”
“It has been my life for as long as I can remember. Papa had to find something to do when the king fell, and he didn’t want to stay near Paris, where everyone knew he had been the king’s horse master. A traveling equestrian circus seemed to be a good idea, and we have been very successful.”
“And your father was against Napoléon?”
“Papa was a royalist, through and through. He himself was the grandson of a noble, you see.”
“And you are a royalist as well?”
“Not like Papa was,” she said. “I think too many people were poor under the ancien régime. But Napoléon is as bad. How many men did he lose in Russia? Half a million at least. And now his men are all over the country, conscripting a new army to go on fighting. Even the peasants are resisting this conscription—everyone is sick of war. We are sick of Napoléon, if the truth be known. A return of the monarchy would be better than what we have—if the monarchy was like the English one and responsible to a parliament.”
A shock of hair had fallen across his forehead in the breeze and he pushed it back. He was impressed by her intelligence and conviction. “If Louis is restored it will be more of a constitutional monarchy—I’m sure of that.”
“It had better be. To have gone through what France has gone through and to end up as we began—that would be a tragedy.”
He, who had always thought it would be desirable if France returned to the old ways, thought for a minute about what she had said. Then he surprised himself by saying, “Yes, I suppose it would be.”
They had been driving through the main part of Lille as they spoke and people on the sidewalk waved to them and called out greetings.
“I’m surprised you don’t start your tour in Lille,” Leo said.
“We end our tour in Lille,” she explained, waving back to a little boy who was jumping up and down and crying, “Gabrielle! Gabrielle!”
Leo asked, “Do you go to the same places every year?”
“We have several different routes, and we have done the southern route before, so it won’t look strange for us to be traveling toward Spain.”
“That’s good,” Leo said. “The more normal this circus looks, the better.” He looked around. “Where is Colette?”
“Inside the wagon sleeping on the sofa. That’s how she usually travels. I give her a good run before we leave and she runs again when we arrive, otherwise she sleeps.”
“She’s a beautiful dog,” he commented.
She smiled. “Shall I tell you a secret? She’s not really a dog—she’s a princess in disguise.”
He laughed. It was the first time she had heard that sound and she turned her head to look at him. He looked younger when he smiled, she thought.
“How old are you, Leo?” she asked.
All of the amusement left his face. “I should have prepared a letter of introduction for you,” he said.
She gave him an annoyed look. “I am trying to be polite and to make conversation. And I should know how old you are if we’re supposed to be married.”
“I am twenty-eight,” he said evenly. “You seem young to have the responsibility for a circus like this.” He tried to steer the conversation back to her.
“Yes, but I spent many years watching what Papa did. I can handle it.” She looked at him. “That is, I can handle it if we don’t come under suspicion for carrying this gold. Frankly, I think the English government was mad to insist I take a noble’s son along on such a mission.”
“I don’t plan on telling people that I’m a noble’s son,” he said in annoyance.
“There’s something about you…an air of authority…that makes you stand out. That could be dangerous.”
“Nonsense,” he said.
“It isn’t nonsense. You saw the reaction of the rest of the circus members. You don’t fit in.”
He was aware of how clipped his voice had become.
“I am here to make certain that the gold gets delivered to Wellington and I intend to do my job.”
“I know!” she exclaimed, not listening to what he had been saying. She turned to him and her large brown eyes were sparkling. “You can be our ringmaster!”
He looked at her as if she was insane. “I am not going to be a ringmaster—or anything else! I am not here to perform in your circus.”
“But it would be such a clever disguise,” she said excitedly. “You’d make an excellent ringmaster—there’s that air of authority, you know. And it would be a great camouflage. It would make you part of the circus, not just a suspicious addition.”
“I am not going to perform in your circus. You might as well get that through your head,” he said in his coldest voice.
She looked at him with a combination of surprise and disappointment, then turned her head back to face the horses. They continued the journey in silence.
They reached the outskirts of Amiens at about five o’clock, and Vincent, the advance man, was waiting for them at the Coq d’Or inn on the main road. He came over to Gabrielle’s wagon and told her that they had secured the same field as last year.
“Wonderful!” She turned to Leo. “This is Vincent Duplay, our advance man. Vincent, meet my new husband, Leo.”
Vincent looked at Leo in surprise. “I didn’t know that you had remarried, Gabrielle. When did this happen?”
“A few weeks ago,” Leo said smoothly. “We are still newlyweds.”
Gabrielle shot him a glance. His face was perfectly grave.
He is the most humorless man I have ever met, she thought. I wonder if he is like this with people of his own class or is it just us peasants who rate that somber expression.
She looked back at Vincent. “Where have you booked us to stay, Vincent?”
“The same place as last year. Is that all right?”
“Fine,” she reassured him. “It was quite a decent hotel. Have you put notices around town?”
“Yes.”
“Good, then you can help put up the tent.”
“Yes, madame.” He gave her a mock salute. “Nice to have met you,” he said to Leo.
Leo nodded. Soberly.
Gabrielle sighed as she took the reins back from Leo’s hands. “Better let me drive. I know where the field is.”
It was large and flat, sparsely covered by grass and surrounded by trees.
“This is such a perfect place for us,” Gabrielle explained to Leo as they arrived at the field. “There is a stream just inside the woods over there. We can bring the horses to the water instead of always having to drag the water to them.”
She watched as Leo looked around. It looked like an ordinary field to him. “Very nice,” he said.
Gabrielle said briskly, “Well, before we can go to our lodgings we have to make certain the horses are comfortable. Get down, Leo,” she ordered. “There’s work to do.”
All of the wagons had emptied by the time Leo and Gabrielle reached the ground, and all the circus members gathered around her. She issued her orders.
“You know the routine,” she began, looking at each person in the group. “First we have to get the horses settled. Mathieu, Albert, Jean, Cesar, Leo and I can put up the corral. Then we’ll unharness the horses and take them for water. The rest of you can help with the tents.”
Most of the assembly turned and started to walk toward the wagon in which the tents were stored. Gabrielle went to open the back door of her wagon to let Colette out and her brothers and the grooms headed in the direction of the wagon Mathieu had been driving. After a moment’s hesitation, Leo followed them.
Mathieu climbed up into the driver’s seat and drove the wagon to a place a few hundred feet from where all the other wagons were parked. When he stopped, the two grooms jumped into the back of the wagon and started handing down long pointed wooden poles to the rest of the men who stood on the ground. When they had all been unloaded, they were followed by four heavy wooden mallets.
“We put the stakes into the ground and then we put up a rope to make a corral,” Albert explained to Leo.
“Surely you can’t put all the horses in the corral together?”
“The corral is only for our horses. The rest of the circus pickets their horses for the night under the stable tent. Gabrielle likes to give our horses a chance to lie down.”
“They don’t try to get out? A rope corral isn’t that sturdy.”
Albert shrugged. “If they wanted to get out they probably could, but the corral is where they are fed, and besides, they are used to it.”
Something rustled in the trees and the greyhound was off like a shot.
“Good God,” Leo exclaimed. “She moves like the wind.”
“Colette can run,” Albert agreed.
“I’ve never seen a greyhound run. They really are amazing.”
“What kind of dogs did you have in England?”
“My family had mostly spaniels and retrievers—hunting dogs.”
Albert said, “Greyhounds are hunters, too—they are sight hounds, not nose hounds—but Colette is a pet.”
“Most of the ladies in England have little dogs for pets,” Leo said. “Pugs or King Charles spaniels.”
“Gabrielle has always liked big dogs. Colette is her second greyhound.”
Mathieu came up to them and handed Leo a mallet. “Here you go, Leo,” he said. “You look like you’re strong. You can pound the stake while Albert holds it.”
The men had pounded the stakes in the ground more quickly than Leo would have believed, then two lengths of thick rope were looped through holes that had been drilled in the posts.
“Very neat,” Leo remarked, impressed despite himself.
Gabrielle came up to her brother and Leo. “Emma and I will start to untie the performance horses and take them down to the stream for water.” she said.
She favored Leo with a brief smile. “See how you can make yourself useful?” she asked. “There is always something to be done in a circus.”
He nodded but did not reply.
When the performance horses had been corralled, Leo helped unharness the wagon horses and take them for a drink. By the time they had finished with the horses, the circus tent was up. Leo looked at it and was impressed.
“I’ve never seen a tent like that,” he said to Mathieu.
“It was Papa’s invention, the round tent. It makes for good viewing from all sides and you can get more people in.”
“And you put it up in so short a time!”
“It’s simple, really,” Mathieu said. “First we put up the center pole, then we lace the canvas pieces together and drape them over, then the quarter poles are put in to hold the tent out, and voilà, we have a tent.”
“Very efficient,” Leo said.
“Don’t you have tents in the army?” Mathieu asked.
“Actually, Wellington has ordered tents for this last campaign. Until now the men have bivouacked in the open.”
Mathieu said, “We have two more tents to put up, the stable tent and the dressing tent. Then we will be done for now.”
Gabrielle came up to them, her greyhound at her heels. “We need to hay the horses,” she said. “Leo, you can help Mathieu.”
More orders. He replied as calmly as he could but knew his temper was showing. “Very well.”
Gabrielle stood and watched as he went off with her brother, but not before he noted the speculative expression on her face.
Seven
“When were you married, Gabrielle?”
Leo could see Luc’s question had taken her off guard. They had left the animals fed and watered back at the field, and were now piled into the Robichons’ two painted wagons to make the short journey to their lodgings in town.
Leo ended up sharing a front seat with Luc Balzac and Gabrielle. Luc started asking questions as soon as Leo put the horses into motion.
“Oh, a few weeks ago,” she replied, too nervously for Leo’s taste. “It was quite a whirlwind romance, wasn’t it, Leo?”
He looked at her. Her large brown eyes were anxious. “Yes,” he said warmly, hoping to help the charade. “It was quite a romance.”
“And what do you do, Leo—or what did you do before you had the luck to marry a circus owner?” Luc’s voice was tinged with sarcasm.
Leo had already thought this out so his answer was prompt. “I bought and sold horses in England.”
Gabrielle said with annoyance, “Leo would not have married any circus owner, Luc. He married me. Isn’t that true, Leo?”
“Completely true, my sweet,” he said, then took her hand in his and kissed it.
It was not the smooth, soft hand of a lady. It was a strong, competent little hand whose skin was slightly chapped. Touching it, he felt a shock streak from his lips to his loins. He dropped her hand as if it had burned his mouth.
Gabrielle looked startled. He didn’t know if it was because he had dropped her hand so suddenly or because she, too, had felt the same shock that had leaped between them.
“You’re English,” Luc continued, not noticing Leo’s reaction. “What were you doing in Brussels?”
“Selling a horse,” Leo replied shortly.
“How did you meet Gabrielle?”
“Really, Luc,” Gabrielle said. Her husky voice sounded a little breathless. “You sound as if you’re conducting an inquisition. Leo and I met by chance and fell in love. That’s the whole story.”
Luc scowled. “I thought you were still mourning your beloved André.”
The faintest flush bloomed on Gabrielle’s cheeks. She has beautiful skin, Leo thought. It wasn’t the rose and white of an English complexion; it was more like peaches and cream.
Gabrielle said tightly, “I will never forget André.”
Leo sensed she was upset and forced a change of subject. “My wife tells me you are a superb horseman, Luc. Tell me about your act.” He spoke with the unconscious authority of a man who has given orders all his life.
There was a pause, then Luc said sulkily, “You’ll see it soon enough.”
“I am looking forward to it,” Leo replied. He glanced at Gabrielle to see if she had recovered herself. Her face looked composed.
As they were speaking, they had passed wagons filled with produce and another wagon selling ice. Now they came abreast of a farm wagon with a man and a child on the front seat. “Look, Papa,” the little boy called. “It’s the circus lady!”
He started to wave frantically and Gabrielle smiled and waved back. “I hope we see you tomorrow,” she called.
“Surely will,” the farmer called back. “The lad’s been talking of nothing else since he saw your poster.”
“Wonderful.” Gabrielle blew them a kiss.
“Was that necessary?” The words were out of Leo’s mouth before he had a chance to think about their wisdom.
Gabrielle gave him a surprised look. “Was what necessary?”
Stupid, Leo thought. She’s a circus performer, not a lady. She drums up business however she can.
“Nothing,” he replied. “I spoke out of turn. I imagine you get a lot of children at your performances.”
“We get people of all ages, from the very young to the very old. Luc, do you remember that woman last year who celebrated her eightieth birthday at one of our performances? It was amazing,” Gabrielle said to Leo. “Eighty years old and she was sitting on a bench watching our show! Isn’t that marvelous?”
Leo couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm.
They had reached the town limits of Amiens and within a few minutes they pulled up in front of a stone building with a sign outside reading Hôtel de Champs.
“Here we are,” Gabrielle said to Leo. “It’s not fancy but it’s clean and the beds are good.”
Leo turned to Gabrielle to help her down, but all he saw of her was her back. A second later she had jumped to the ground unassisted.
She turned to look back at him. “Can you hand me my bag, Leo?” she asked.
He picked up the canvas bag that contained her clothes and handed it down to her. She continued to surprise him, he thought. Certainly she was nothing like any woman he’d ever known.
“Give me yours, too,” she said.
He shook his head. “It’s too heavy, I’ll lift it down.” He jumped to the ground himself and lifted down his leather portmanteau.
“The landlady will have supper for us,” Gabrielle told him. “I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.”
Leo looked down into her delicately lovely face. She looked as if she existed on champagne and strawberries. “Food sounds good,” he said.
They all trooped inside the old hotel and settled around three tables in a large, shabby-looking dining room. Leo looked at the landscapes that hung on the wall. They were terrible.
A short, portly woman in a blue apron came bustling into the room. “Bon soir, Mademoiselle Robichon,” she said. “It is good to see you again.”
“Bon soir, Madame Gare,” Gabrielle responded. “It is good to be here. What do you have to feed us with tonight?”
“Lamb stew,” the landlady replied.
“Wonderful,” Gabrielle said.
“I will serve it immediately,” the woman said, and bustled out of the room.
“I thought you were Madame Rieux,” Leo said to Gabrielle. “Have you kept your own name for the circus?”
“Yes. Robichon is a well-known name in the areas we travel. Even when André was alive I was Mademoiselle Robichon in the circus.”
“Gabrielle is famous,” Albert said with pride. “Papa always said that of all the horsemen he had trained, she was the best.”
Leo raised an eyebrow. “That is quite a compliment.”
Gabrielle smiled modestly. “My father was prejudiced,” she said.
“That’s not true,” Mathieu put in. “She has my father’s touch.”
Leo remembered Gabrielle had said that also. “What do you mean by ‘touch’?” he asked curiously.
“She knows what a horse is thinking,” Mathieu said.
“Horses can’t really think,” Leo scoffed.
“Perhaps not, but they feel,” she insisted, “and they communicate what they are feeling through the reins. Unfortunately, few riders care to listen.”
Something about Gabrielle’s words and the certainty in her voice silenced Leo’s argument. He thought about her theory as he ate his lamb stew, confounded again by her unusual ways.
The conversation at the table had gone on without him, and when he turned his attention back they were talking about the brutal conscription that was going on in France.
“A soldier came to the farm over the winter,” Mathieu was saying. “Albert and I had to hide in the hayloft so he wouldn’t find us.”
“We had a scare, too,” Carlotta said. “Henri and Franz had to bribe the conscripting officer to get off.”
“Yes, it cost me a bundle,” Henri said. “The peasants don’t have the cash to hand over, though. Poor bastards. They’re pushed into the army and they don’t know the first thing about military matters.”
“Napoléon lost a huge number of men in Russia,” Leo said neutrally.
“Yes, and the rest of the army is tied up in Spain by the English,” Henri said. “It’s time Napoléon made a deal with the Allies and agreed to give back all his conquered territory and rule within the boundaries of France.”
“Do you think he would be content with that?” Leo asked curiously.
“No,” answered Emma flatly. “That man will never give up his territories. The Allies will have to beat him on the battlefield. He will never give up voluntarily.”
“Unfortunately, I think Emma is right,” Franz said.
“Do you think that France would be content for Napoléon to rule it?” Leo asked.
“If he ruled in peace, yes,” said Henri.
“After all, what’s the alternative?” Carlotta asked. “The return of the king? Did we go through all that we have gone through just to see the Bourbons back on the throne again?”
“I hope not!” Henri said.
Gabrielle spoke up. “If the king ruled with a parliament, like in England, that would be all right, Henri.”
“Perhaps,” Henri said grudgingly. “But the history of the Bourbons doesn’t suggest that they would be willing to do that.”
“I think the Revolution changed things in France forever,” Gabrielle said gravely. “No king will ever again have the power of Louis XVI.”
“Napoléon has that kind of power,” Henri pointed out.
“Napoléon is on his last legs,” Gabrielle insisted. “The English are beating him in the Iberian Peninsula, and if he is going to march against Germany again, it will be with an army of raw recruits. I think we are in the days of a dying regime.”
“I think so, too,” said Franz soberly.
Leo was careful not to contribute much in case he inadvertently gave away clues to his real identity. He looked down now at his empty plate. Madame Gare came out of the kitchen. “How are we doing, eh? Finished? I have apple tart for dessert.”
Gabrielle jumped up. “I’ll help you clear, Madame Gare.”
“Such a good girl,” the landlady beamed.
Emma also got up and quietly went to the next table and began to collect plates. The two other women in the company, Carlotta and Jeanne Maheu, a band member, remained in their seats.
After dessert was finished, Gabrielle went into the kitchen and came out carrying a large bag. “Supper for Cesar and Jean,” she said to Leo, referring to the two grooms who stayed behind to guard the horses. “I’ll take it out to them tonight. It’s the first night on the road for the horses and I want to make sure everything is all right.”
Leo said, “Will they remain with the horses all night?”
“Yes,” Gabrielle said. “Cesar has his two Alsatian dogs with him. They will sound an alarm if anyone tries to get near the horses.”
“Are Cesar and Jean armed?” Leo asked.
“Yes,” Gabrielle replied.
Leo nodded his approval.
“Shall I go with you, Gabrielle?” Luc asked.
Leo gave the equestrian a long, hard stare. “I will accompany my wife,” he said.
My wife. The words sounded so strange rolling off his lips.
Gabrielle patted Luc on his sleeve. “Thank you, anyway, Luc.”
Luc’s handsome face looked grim.
“Come along, Leo,” Gabrielle said, and without even glancing at him, she began to walk toward the door leaving him, along with her dog, to follow.
This has got to stop, Leo thought. I am not her servant! He wondered if she had treated André this way. I pity the poor bastard if she did.
Leo drove out to the field while Gabrielle held the food on her lap. Colette lay sprawled across her feet for the twenty-minute drive. Leo was silent and Gabrielle made no attempt to engage him in conversation. When they arrived they were greeted by two large black Alsatian dogs, which barked excitedly.
“Yes, yes,” Gabrielle soothed them. “I am bringing your dinner, too.”
Cesar approached them.
“Is everything quiet?” Gabrielle asked.
“Yes. The horses are all tired from the day’s journey. No one has acted up.”
“Good. I have lamb stew for you and Jean and the dogs.”
“Wonderful. We’re all hungry.”
The two men had put out benches and Gabrielle began to set out their meal on one of them. They sat on the other and started eating. Gabrielle then went to the wagon and returned with two large dishes into which she poured the remainder of the lamb stew. The two Alsatians began to eat hungrily.
Colette stood and watched them, her ears pricked.
“Don’t look like that—you just ate, you piggy,” Gabrielle said affectionately.
Colette ignored her; she continued to watch the other dogs eat.
“Let’s go look at the horses,” Gabrielle said to Leo, and they walked the twenty feet that divided them from the corral.
Inside, the Lipizzaners, the Arabians, Coco and four of Gabrielle’s carriage horses were eating quietly from their separate piles of hay.
It was a mild, pleasant evening. Leo found himself very curious about Gabrielle’s work. “What do you do when it’s raining?” he asked. “Do they stay out in the rain?”
“I put them in the stable tent when the weather is inclement.”
“And do you make a profit with this circus?”
“Papa did. I hope I can do the same.”
“Is this your first season running the show?”
“I finished up the last weeks last year. This will be my first whole season.” Leo thought she sounded a bit less assured than usual.
As they were speaking, one of the horses left his pile of hay, went over to another of the horses, nudged him out of the way and began to eat his hay.
“Jacques, don’t be a bully,” Gabrielle called.
The other horse stood looking sadly at his hay being devoured by Jacques. Gabrielle ducked through the ropes and went up to him. “Come along, Tonton,” she said, and led him over to the pile of hay that Jacques had deserted. The horse lowered his head and promptly started to eat. Gabrielle came back to stand beside Leo.
“Poor Tonton,” she said. “He is low man in the pecking order and I worry about him getting enough to eat.”
“He looks fat enough,” Leo said.
“That’s because he was fed in his stall all winter.”
As they watched, Jacques deserted Tonton’s pile of hay and went over to reclaim his own. Once again Tonton was without food.
“Mon Dieu,” Gabrielle said. “My poor Tonton.” She went back to the wagon, and when she returned she was carrying a lead rope. “The corral opens over here,” she said to Leo, pointing. “Hold it for me, and I’ll bring Tonton out. He can eat out here with us.”
She took down the rope and went in after the large bay horse. Leo watched, amused, as she led him out, handed him to Leo to hold and went back for Jacques’s pile of hay. She brought the hay outside of the corral, dumped it on the ground and went to take Tonton’s lead. She held the lead and Tonton lowered his head and began to eat.
“I’ll have to tell Jean and Cesar to leave Tonton in the stall tent where the horses are tied. We did it last year—they must have forgot.”
“You take good care of your horses,” Leo said approvingly.
“They deserve good care,” she returned. “They are the heart and soul of our show.”
They stood quietly, side by side in the darkening light, as Tonton munched away on his hay. Leo suddenly found himself acutely aware of her presence. All of his nerve endings seemed to be attuned to her, and he scowled, not liking the feeling at all.
Gabrielle broke the silence and called to the grooms. “I am going to tie Tonton to the corral. Make sure you put him back inside when he has finished his hay.”
Cesar came over to them. “I forgot about Tonton. Is Jacques still stealing his food?”
“Yes.” Gabrielle was busy tying a knot in Tonton’s lead rope.
Then she turned to Leo. “Let’s get back to the hotel.”
They walked back to their wagon, and as Gabrielle put her foot on the step to climb up, Leo put his hands around her slim waist and lifted her. She was light and buoyant as he swung her up to the seat.
“You don’t have to do that,” she said from her place above him. Her voice sounded a little breathless.
“A husband helps his wife,” he returned as he went around to the other side of the wagon.
“Nevertheless, I can get into the wagon by myself.”
He climbed into the seat beside her. “If we want to present the picture of a happily married couple, you are going to have to be less independent,” he told her sternly. “I’m not the sort of man to stand by and let his wife climb into a wagon by herself.”
With this, he pulled the reins from her hands and started the horses on their trip back to the hotel.
Eight
It was dark by the time Leo and Gabrielle got back to the hotel. Leo parked the wagon in the stable yard next to the other one. No groom appeared to unharness the horses, so he did it himself. Then he and Gabrielle put the horses into their stalls and returned to the stable yard.
Leo looked at the two wagons and said, “I’m wondering if I should plan to sleep on Colette’s sofa. I don’t like leaving the wagons unguarded for the night.”
Gabrielle shook her head decisively. “Your job is to do everything you can to fit into this circus. If you start sleeping in one of the wagons, everyone will wonder what is going on.”
“My job is to protect the gold,” he corrected, “but I suppose you’re right.”
“I know I am, so come along.”
Together they went into the hotel through the back door. They found Emma in the lounge, knitting, the Maroni brothers playing cards, and Mathieu and Albert playing chess.
“Here they are,” Emma said, looking up over her spectacles.
“Everything all right with the horses?” Gianni Maroni asked.
“Everything’s fine,” Gabrielle reported. “Where is everyone else?”
“Gone to the café down the street,” Mathieu reported.
Leo walked over to look at the chessboard. Mathieu was winning.
“Would you care to have a glass of wine before going to bed?” Gabrielle said to Leo. “We could walk down to the café if you like.”
Leo agreed and Gabrielle said, “Let me change into something besides this skirt and boots.” As Gabrielle left the room, he turned his attention to the chess game. “Whose turn is it?” he asked.
“Mine,” Albert said. He picked up a piece and Leo said, “Are you sure you want to move that?”
Albert gave him a surprised look. “Why not?”
“Look at your bishop,” Leo recommended.
Albert looked. “Oh,” he said, and hastily moved his bishop out of danger.
When Gabrielle finally reappeared, Mathieu greeted her return with a disappointed “Oh, are you going to take Leo away? He is helping Albert and giving me a little bit of a challenge for a change.”
“If I’m so terrible, then I won’t play with you at all,” Albert retorted. “It’s no fun for me to get beaten all the time.”
Leo looked at his supposed wife. She was wearing a long dark blue wool skirt with a matching jacket. It was a very simple outfit, with little trim, hardly fashionable, yet she managed to look very smart. Her hair was bundled into a loose chignon on the nape of her delicate neck.
“Stop quarrelling, boys,” she said to her brothers. “Ready, Leo?”
“Ready.” He followed her to the door and out onto the street. Colette went with them.
The café’s outdoor patio was closed up for the night, with chairs upended onto tables, but when they walked inside they were greeted with brightness and the smell of cooking oil. Most of the tables were taken, the largest one by the circus people. Gabrielle and Leo went to join them.
“Good,” Carlotta exclaimed happily as they came up to the table. “Another woman. Come and sit by me, Gabrielle.”
“I’m sure Gabrielle will want to sit beside her new husband, chérie,” Henri said. “Bring over those chairs, Leo, and you both can squeeze in here.”
Leo dragged the chairs over and he and Gabrielle sat down.
Sully asked, “I was wondering—why are we starting out so early this year, Gabrielle? It’s colder and the light doesn’t last as long. We usually don’t start for another two weeks.”
Leo looked at the man who was the Cirque Equestre’s clown. Sully was a tall, thin man with mournful brown eyes and a receding hairline. He didn’t look at all jolly.
“I just thought it would be a good idea to get a head start on the season,” Gabrielle said easily. “The more performances we put on, the more money we make. No?”
Leo, who knew that they were starting early so they could move the gold as quickly as possible, shot a swift look around the table to see if Gabrielle’s reason was accepted. A few people nodded and the rest seemed indifferent. He relaxed.
Jeanne Maheu, one of the band members, smiled at him. “Have you been to Astleys circus in London, Leo?”
Jeanne was an exotic-looking woman, with long black hair and slanting brown eyes. She almost looked Oriental, Leo thought.
“No, I have never had that privilege,” he said.
“Have you ever seen any circuses at all?” she pressed.
He shook his head. “No, madame, I’m afraid I haven’t.”
“Jeanne,” she corrected him. “We are all on a first-name basis in this circus, aren’t we, Gabrielle?”
“Yes,” Gabrielle replied.
“Never seen a circus?” Jeanne’s husband, Pierre, was astonished.
Leo did his best to look genial. “I will remedy that omission tomorrow. And I’m looking forward to it.”
Gabrielle said, “You have to fetch our drinks from the bar, Leo. I will have a glass of burgundy.”
Leo stood up, annoyed to have taken orders from Gabrielle in front of the others, and went off to the bar. When he came back to the table the rest of them were discussing the next day’s program.
“I am going by the order that Gabrielle gave me, and that’s that,” Gerard said hotly.
Luc said to Gabrielle, “I don’t think I should come directly after you. That makes too many equestrian acts in a row.”
“What’s the matter, Luc?” teased Antonio Laurent, one of the band members. “Afraid of the competition?”
Luc’s blue eyes glittered. “No!” he retorted.
“Let’s go with what I have for tomorrow, Luc,” Gabrielle said matter-of-factly. “If it needs changes I’ll make them for the next day.”
Luc did not look happy, but after a moment he nodded agreement.
The conversation veered to what they had all been doing over the winter, and Leo leaned back and watched the various faces around the table. The atmosphere among the group was comfortable. Everyone seemed to know everyone else and there was easy laughter when Adolphe Laurent told a funny story, which was then topped by his brother, Antonio.
They were a kind of people who were utterly foreign to Leo, but they seemed a pleasant-enough group. This might not be so bad, he thought. I’ll do what I have to do for four weeks, and then it will be over.
“What kind of horses did you sell, Leo? Were they racehorses?”
He brought his attention to Jeanne’s inquisitive face. “Hunters, mainly,” he said. “There’s a big market in England for reliable hunters.”
“Oh, yes, the English and their hunting,” Gerard commented. “Pierre Robichon used to say that the English passion for hunting has destroyed their horsemanship.”
“How is that?” Carlotta asked.
“They have lost their seat. All they do is stand in their stirrups and gallop,” Gerard said.
“I don’t think it’s quite as bad as that,” Leo said mildly.
“Well that is what Pierre said.”
“Papa meant that there is no manège training in England,” Gabrielle explained.
“There isn’t any in France any longer, either,” Leo shot back.
“But there was before the Revolution and there will be again after Napoléon. There is a tradition in France of classical riding. There is no such tradition in England.”
“The Duke of Newcastle was English and he trained in the classical way,” Leo said.
“True, but Papa said no one in England studied the Duke of Newcastle any longer. The few Englishmen who were interested in learning to ride properly came to Papa when he was the king’s Master of the Horse.”
Leo was annoyed. It was one thing for him to think his countrymen were not the best riders, but it was quite another to hear the same opinion from foreigners. “It takes a great deal of skill to ride a horse cross country,” he said stiffly.
Gerard said, “It is easy to gallop a horse cross country. All you need is balance. Watch Gabrielle ride tomorrow, then you will see what real horsemanship is.”
Gabrielle smiled at Gerard. “Thank you, Gerard,” she said.
Luc said scornfully, “However did you come to marry such a barbarian? Your father must be turning in his grave.”
Barbarian? Leo was outraged.
Gabrielle flushed. “Leo is not a barbarian,” she said.
Leo did not find her defense overly enthusiastic.
Jeanne gave him a warm smile. “Don’t pay any attention to Luc, Leo. He is just jealous because you married Gabrielle.”
“Not jealous, Jeanne—amazed,” Luc said sarcastically.
Everything in Leo wanted to give this bunch of common people an icy dressing down. But he couldn’t do it; it would alienate them and would make them wary of him. He forced a smile to his face. “Talk to me tomorrow, after I have seen your horses perform.”
“Good idea,” Gabrielle said briskly. She stood up. “I am ready to go back to the hotel, Leo.”
He stood up also. He was really getting tired of her habit of issuing orders to him. It was a good thing she was so pretty, he thought, otherwise this assignment would be miserable.
They walked back to the hotel in silence. The only ones left in the lounge were the Maroni brothers, who were still playing cards. Gabrielle bade them good-night and started toward the stairs.
“I am just going to step out to the stable yard to check the wagons,” Leo told her quietly.
She nodded. “I’ll wait for you.”
The stable yard was quiet. The moonlight illuminated the two wagons with the white horses painted on their sides. Leo pulled on the wagon doors, content that they were securely locked.
Christ, but I wish this journey was over, Leo thought. It stretched out before him like an eon of time. But it was only four weeks. Four weeks wasn’t that long, Leo thought. Then the gold would be delivered and he would be free to rejoin his regiment. He looked up to the sky at the full moon. The same moon was shining on his compatriots in winter quarters in Portugal, he thought.
Four weeks, and he would be able to return to them.
He went back inside to rejoin Gabrielle, who was waiting in the lounge. Together they mounted the stairs to their bedroom.
Another plain, serviceable room, Leo thought as he walked in through the door after Gabrielle. It was furnished with one bed, one wardrobe, a bedside table with a lamp and another table with a basin of water. The floor was wide wooden planks with a small, thin rug just inside the door. Colette immediately jumped on the bed and established herself at the foot.
The floor looked very hard, Leo thought with discouragement.
“We will do the same as we did last night,” Gabrielle said. “I will tell you when you can turn around.”
Leo turned away and fished his nightshirt out of his bag, which lay on the floor, and proceeded to take off his boots. Behind him he could hear the sounds Gabrielle made as she took off her own clothes, and he tried heroically not to envision how she would look naked. Her waist had been so slim and supple when he grasped it this evening….
Stop, he thought.
But it had been a long time since he had had a woman. Too long, he thought. That’s why he was reacting to this circus girl, he reasoned.
“All right,” Gabrielle said, and he turned around. She was wearing the same long nightgown as the night before, and her hair was loose around her shoulders and down her back. She had a brush in her hand, and as he watched she went over to the bed, sat on the edge of it and began to brush her hair.
He watched, fascinated, as the silken strands slid through the brush. “You have beautiful hair.” The words were out before he could stop them.
“Thank you,” she said, clearly surprised.
He cleared his throat. “Well, if you will lend me a blanket, I will bunk down on this rug.”
She stopped brushing and looked at him. “You don’t have to do that. You can share the bed with me—as long as you keep to your side.”
He stared at her in astonishment. “Are you sure?”
“I am sure, but you must understand, Leo, that I am not inviting you to take liberties with me. I am simply allowing you to have a comfortable place to sleep.” She looked at the rug. “That rug doesn’t look too clean.”
He looked at the bed. It was an ordinary double bed, the kind that a married couple would share comfortably. But they were not a married couple. He thought about what it would mean to lie so close beside her.
I might get more sleep on the floor.
But the rug definitely did look dirty. And the floor looked hard.
“All right,” he said. “Thank you.”
She nodded. “Is there a side that you particularly like? André always had to sleep on the left side of the bed.”
“No,” he said. “Either side is fine with me.”
“Bon. You can have the left side, then. I am used to having the right.”
He walked barefoot to the bed, feeling huge in his white nightshirt. She looked so delicate and so beautiful as she sat there brushing her hair.
He got in under the covers and watched as she finished brushing and took a ribbon and tied her hair at the nape of her neck. She stood up, folded back the covers and slipped into bed beside him.
“This is awkward, no?” she asked.
“Very awkward,” he replied. He had to curl his legs because the dog took up the bottom of the bed.
“I am sorry that we seemed to denigrate your countrymen tonight,” she said. “We of the Robichon circus tend to be very proud of the quality of our riding.”
“So I gathered,” he said. “This disguise of you being my husband is very difficult,” she said. “You saw tonight how astonished everyone was that I would marry a man who is not a good rider.”
Leo sat up. “Wait a minute. Who said I wasn’t a good rider?”
She looked up at him. “I don’t mean to insult you, Leo….”
“Well you do insult me,” he said hotly. “I’ll have you know that I am a bloody good rider. You and your friends may know some circus tricks that I don’t know, but…”
She also sat bolt upright. “Circus tricks! I am not talking about circus tricks! I’ll bet you can’t even ride a horse in shoulder-in.”
“What the hell is shoulder-in?”
“Hah!” she cried. “Shoulder-in is the most basic training tool of all classical riding. And you haven’t even heard of it!”
Why am I even arguing with this girl? He forced himself to calm down. “This is pointless,” he said. “We should get some sleep.”
“Certainly,” she said. “There is no point in arguing with you. You are too ignorant.”
It took all his discipline not to reply.
“Turn out the light,” she said, then turned her back on him, pulled the covers up over her shoulders and shut her eyes.
She was giving him orders again. He set his jaw, leaned over to the lamp and turned it off. Her voice came through the darkness.
“Good night.”
“Good night,” he replied.
Silence fell on the room. He was acutely aware of her sleeping but two feet away from him. Under the same blankets. She breathed so lightly he could scarcely hear her. His pulse was racing from the argument, he told himself. This is going to be a long night.
Nine
When Gabrielle awoke the following morning Leo was still asleep. She watched him for a minute without moving.
His hair was tangled on the pillow, his lashes lay still on his cheeks. He looked like a god strayed from the shores of ancient Greece, she thought. She had a sudden impulse to bend over him and kiss him awake, an impulse that immediately horrified her.
Mon Dieu! What am I thinking? I cannot become attracted to this man. That would put us in a horribly awkward position.
As if he had heard her thought, his eyes opened. She looked into their aquamarine depths and said briskly, “Wake up, sleepyhead. It’s time to go to work.”
He blinked, as if trying to place her.
“It’s Gabrielle,” she said. “You’re with the circus.”
He looked annoyed and his serene godlike aspect faded. “I know who you are,” he said.
“For a moment there you looked unsure.”
His eyes glittered but he didn’t reply. After a moment’s silence he said, “Are you going to get up?”
“Yes. And I am going to get dressed. Gather your clothes together and turn your back.”
She pushed the covers back and got out of bed, carefully pulling her nightgown down over her legs.
“Do you know, Gabrielle, I am getting rather tired of you issuing orders to me.” His tone was pleasant, but she detected anger behind the words.
She turned to look at him in surprise. “How will you know what to do if I don’t tell you?” she asked innocently.
He was sitting up in bed, the covers pulled to his waist. The open neck of his nightshirt showed his strong throat and chest. She looked at them, then quickly pulled her eyes away.
He said, “I am perfectly capable of figuring things out for myself.”
“If I had joined you in the army, I would expect you to tell me what to do,” she said reasonably. “You don’t know anything about the circus. I am only trying to keep you from making a mistake. The last thing we need is someone suspecting that you are an English officer.”
He folded his lips into a frown but didn’t reply.
“Bon,” she said, pleased that she had put him in his place. “Now can we get dressed?”
People started arriving for the circus at eleven o’clock the following morning. Gabrielle had put Leo in charge of selling tickets, and he stood beside the wagon emblazoned with the circus name and collected money and handed out tickets.
The circus-goers were mainly families: mother, father and children. They looked like shopkeepers from the city and local farmers—solid, middle-class folk, the sort that Leo scarcely ever noticed so far were they below his own high head.
It was almost show time when Leo sold a ticket to an army lieutenant. He got a little shock when he saw the uniform but kept his face expressionless. “Come to enjoy some fun, Lieutenant?”
“I have come to see your circus,” the lieutenant said. He looked closely at Leo. “You have an accent, monsieur. Are you English?”
Damn, Leo thought. I should have kept my mouth shut. “My wife’s family owns this circus,” he said, as genially as he could.
The lieutenant nodded, took his ticket and moved toward the tent.
There’s nothing to worry about, Leo told himself. The man has just come to see a circus.
He waited at the wagon until he heard the band strike up and then he locked the ticket money in the wagon and moved toward the tent. He went around to the performer’s entrance and outside he found Gabrielle with her five white Arabians. Their flowing manes were brushed and they wore a golden plume on their heads. They wore no other equipment and each was being held by a rope looped loosely around his neck. Gabrielle herself was dressed in male hunting attire: red coat, breeches and high boots. Her hair was pulled high on the back of her head and swung between her shoulders in a shining fall. She was not carrying a whip.
“Go and sit with the band,” she said to him. He hesitated a moment, decided to wait until after the show to tell her about the lieutenant, and went into the tent. As he entered, Gerard, who was also dressed in hunting attire, announced to the audience, “Mademoiselle Gabrielle Robichon and her Liberty Horses!”
The band started a gay tune and the horses trotted through the door, followed by Gabrielle, who went immediately to the middle of the ring. The horses began to trot energetically around the ring, their tails flying high in true Arabian fashion.
The demonstration that followed had Leo as fascinated as the rest of the audience. Without a hand touching them, without a voice telling them, without even a noticeable signal from Gabrielle, the horses went around the ring, wheeling, turning, reversing and circling in perfect unison. They reared in unison, and went down on their knees at exactly the same time. At one point, Gabrielle put numbers on their backs, mixed them up in the ring, and they all found their exact places in order as they went back to circling the ring.
Toward the end of the performance, Leo began to watch Gabrielle closely. She was cueing them, he realized, but the motions were so minuscule as to be scarcely noticeable: a slight step forward, a step backward or sideways, the slight lift of a hand—all scarcely visible to the audience but obviously visible to the horses.
Leo was deeply impressed. He thought of some of the horses he had known, and their lack of obedience, and was even more impressed. And these were hot-blooded Arabian horses, not slugs.
As the horses trotted out of the arena, the audience applauded enthusiastically. Gabrielle bowed once to her left, once in front and once to her right, then exited after her horses. She passed Leo with a serious face and didn’t acknowledge his presence.
Leo studied the faces in the crowd, looking for the lieutenant. Benches had been set up on three sides of the circus ring by laying planks over wooden trestles, and behind the benches people were standing. While Paul Gronow gave a dazzling display of juggling with plates and knives, Leo searched the audience. The juggling act was almost over when he finally located the lieutenant standing on the right side of the ring. He appeared to be watching Paul with interest.
The next act was the Maroni brothers’ tumbling. They started off by somersaulting off a springboard and landing on a big mattress in the middle of the ring. Following this act, Coco was brought in and they somersaulted over his back. Then three of the Arabians were brought in and they somersaulted over the three horses’ backs. After that, the last two Arabians were brought in and Gianni somersaulted over the six horses’ backs. Then the horses were led out, the mattress brought closer, and each of the brothers followed each other in rapid succession from the springboard, throwing special twists and variations to a lively galloping tune from the band.
Next, a very tall man with an impassive face walked into the ring. He was wearing evening clothes with an elegant high hat. Sully, dressed as a rustic booby with a red wig and a ruddy face, came in also and spoke to the tall man, but the man didn’t answer. After a few minutes of this, Sully, in irritation, knocked his hat off. To the delight of the audience, his head came off, too. The ringmaster brought out a coffin and Sully tried to stuff the headless corpse into it. After a few minutes of Sully’s comical endeavors, the headless corpse got up and ran out of the ring.
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Joan Wolf
January 1813–the British army is preparing to cross the Pyrenees and advance against Napoleon's army. Only one thing stands in the way–funds. It will take two people masquerading as lovers to carry out a dangerous plan…Despite inheriting the traveling Cirque Equestre–France's proudest equestrian tradition–Gabrielle Rochon has no loyalty to the emperor who destroyed her family's way of life. Independent and headstrong, she pledges to help the British army, knowing her late father would have done the same. But her mission to smuggle gold across France within the cirque to the Duke of Wellington's headquarters in Spain is one the British won't let her do alone.Colonel Leo Branford–an arrogant, striking foreigner–is ordered to play the part of her husband so that he may escort the gold without arousing enemy suspicions.While Gabrielle is annoyed that she must publicly bow to his every whim, the danger of the mission binds them in a disturbingly intimate way. With French troops precariously close to uncovering their charade, it is imperative that neither of them forget their purpose…or themselves.
Praise for novels by Joan Wolf
“Romance writing at its very best.”
—Publishers Weekly starred review
on The Guardian
“Joan Wolf never fails to deliver the best.”
—Nora Roberts
“…an intensely emotional story…”
—Rendezvous on High Meadow
“Wolf…leaps into the contemporary romantic
suspense arena with this smart, compelling read.”
—Publishers Weekly on Silverbridge
“A quick-moving, enchanting tale…An excellent
choice for readers who want an exciting epic.”
—Booklist on Daughter of the Red Deer
“Captivating…endearing…heartwarming…
Wolf’s assured storytelling is simply the best.”
—BookPage on Royal Bride
“Fast paced, highly readable…”
—Library Journal on The Gamble
“An entertaining and thought-provoking read.”
—Washington Post Book World
on The Reindeer Hunters
“Joan Wolf is absolutely wonderful.
I’ve loved her work for years.”
—Iris Johansen
White Horses
Joan Wolf
www.mirabooks.co.uk (http://www.mirabooks.co.uk)
This one’s for Mike.
Contents
Chapter One (#ua8de0e94-8ac6-50c5-9535-32b6e63932de)
Chapter Two (#u6cdf96e1-3444-57a8-8032-775a8a262d7e)
Chapter Three (#u3c13d58f-5c2a-5e31-b62d-dcb5e972ab37)
Chapter Four (#uc5cc9eaa-bbf9-5d08-8e06-da2efb891140)
Chapter Five (#u926a5cdf-3980-59d4-a53a-047565b436bc)
Chapter Six (#u45cf3a69-83f3-5888-8e8b-b17accc38f10)
Chapter Seven (#u9d614d68-bc2e-5a65-919d-74efd72087e6)
Chapter Eight (#u000f91b1-2136-53f4-b953-7a10671df520)
Chapter Nine (#u2ef034eb-5352-5f91-a78f-0c3c912714e7)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
One
London, February 25, 1813
The sun was starting to shine through the fog when, dressed in civilian clothes, Colonel Leo Standish, Earl of Branford, passed through the front door of the Horse Guards building, home of the War Office. There was just the faintest trace of a limp in his walk, legacy of a wound he had taken at the siege of Burgos several months before.
Branford entered a functional room painted in a rich, dark green, with a desk, a glass-fronted bookcase and a large table with a map spread out upon it. Two men were sitting on either side of the desk, and when the earl walked in they both rose to their feet.
“My lord,” John Herries, commissary-in-chief of the British Army, addressed him. “Thank you for coming. I don’t believe you’ve met Mr. Nathan Rothschild.”
“No, I have not. How do you do, Mr. Rothschild?” The earl came forward with an outstretched hand. He had certainly heard of Rothschild, the London scion of the industrious financial family, whose brothers were spread throughout Europe.
The short bald man was dressed in a flawless black coat, white necktie and buff pantaloons. He put his hand into the earl’s large grasp. “It is an honor to meet you, my lord,” he said.
The earl’s blue-green eyes moved from Rothschild to Herries. “What’s this all about, Herries?” he asked.
“Won’t you have a seat, my lord?” the commissary-in-chief said. “We have a job for you and I’d like to explain it.”
The earl drew his eyebrows together. “A job? I don’t have time to do any jobs, Herries. I am returning to my regiment next week.”
“If you would just let me explain, my lord…”
“Oh, all right.” The earl folded his six-foot-two body onto one of the chairs. “Go on.”
“I’m sure you are aware of the difficulties the Marquess of Wellington has been having with funds,” Herries began.
The earl nodded. “He needs to feed and pay the troops, and the local Spanish and Portuguese bankers won’t accept paper money anymore. He needs gold coin.”
Herries continued. “Mr. Rothschild has managed to buy up for us several million newly minted napoléon d’or coins in Holland.”
The earl’s face broke into a rare smile. “Good for you, Mr. Rothschild. Well done.”
Rothschild smiled back.
Herries went on. “Our only problem, my lord, is that we need a way to safely transport the gold to the army in Portugal.”
“It’s still in Holland?” the earl asked.
“Yes, and we need to get it through France to Wellington in Portugal. Needless to say, once the French government gets word of the sale of all those gold coins to Rothschild, they will be on the lookout for anything that might look like an English conveyance.”
The earl arched an eyebrow. “By any chance, does this job you have for me have something to do with the transportation of these coins?”
“It does, my lord.” Herries pulled at his lip, then turned to the other man. “I think I’ll let Mr. Rothschild explain.”
Rothschild looked earnestly at the tall, fair-haired man. “I have had some experience in this sort of thing, my lord. As you may or may not know, my family has transferred money around Europe all during the years of Napoléon’s regime. One of the most trustworthy means we have found for doing this is a French circus, the Cirque Equestre. The circus owner, François Robichon, used to be Master of the Horse to Louis XVI, and he has no love for the Revolution or for Napoléon. The circus can travel anywhere without question, and Pierre has moved money for us successfully on a number of occasions.”
“Two of the circus wagons have false bottoms where the gold can be stored,” Herries put in.
The earl nodded. “It sounds like an excellent idea, but how does it involve me?”
Herries looked at the splendid young man who was sitting across from him. He had never met the Earl of Branford before, and faced with the man in person, a task that had once seemed reasonable now seemed highly improbable. He looked again at Nathan Rothschild.
Nathan continued. “Very unfortunately, François died several months ago and the circus is now headed by his daughter. I am hesitant to commit such a large sum of money to the care of so young a girl. I want her to have a British escort to make certain that the money gets safely to Portugal.”
“And I want her to have a British escort to keep her honest. We don’t want little fingers dipping into the gold bags,” Herries said bluntly.
Now both of the earl’s eyebrows went up. “A British escort would most certainly draw French attention to the circus, exactly what you are trying to avoid.”
“Not if the escort pretended to be a part of the circus,” Rothschild reasoned bluntly.
There was a moment of silence. “And you want that escort to be me?” the earl asked at last.
Herries shifted on his chair. The earl hadn’t changed his own position, but there was a dangerous look in his eyes. Herries cleared his throat. “That’s right, my lord.”
“May I ask whose idea it was to attach me to a circus?” the earl asked, his pleasant voice in contrast to the look in his eyes.
Herries could not bring himself to meet that blue-green gaze. “Lord Castlereagh put forth your name, my lord. As you can understand, he is quite anxious that the gold arrive as safely and as promptly as possible. Wellington will need it to finance his next campaign and his subsequent entry into France.”
Silence. Finally the earl asked with awful courtesy, “Am I supposed to—perform?”
“Of course not, my lord,” the two men chorused in horror.
The earl linked his long, manicured fingers together on his lap. “Then how are we to account for my sudden attachment to a circus? I speak French, but not like a Frenchman. And I’m not the sort of person who just blends into the background,” he added ironically.
“We have thought about that problem, my lord, and we have come up with a solution,” Herries assured him. “You will pretend to be Gabrielle Robichon’s new husband.”
This time the earl’s eyebrows almost disappeared under the lock of golden hair that had fallen over his forehead. “What?”
Herries said earnestly, “It is the only way to disguise you, my lord, other than making you a performer. Mademoiselle Robichon’s family will have to know the truth, but the rest of the circus performers will think you are married.”
“I see,” the earl said slowly. “I am to pretend to be the husband of a circus owner.”
Herries and Rothschild exchanged glances. Neither one of them dared to answer.
There was a long silence.
“I suppose I shall have to do it,” the earl finally said. “It’s essential that the money get to the army.”
For the first time Herries realized that he had been holding his breath. He let it out slowly.
Rothschild said, “Thank you, my lord. I realize that this duty may be distasteful to you, but we do feel it is necessary.”
“And the girl is willing to pretend that I am her husband?”
Rothschild nodded decisively. “She agreed.”
The earl asked, “What’s in it for her? Are you paying her to carry the gold?”
Rothschild said with dignity, “Of course I will pay her, but she is also doing it because she knows her father would want her to. François Robichon was a royalist through and through.”
The earl unlaced his fingers. “Where am I to meet this circus?”
Herries said, “I think it would be a good idea for you and Gabrielle to meet in Brussels. That is where you will tell people that you were married. Then you can return to the circus together.”
“Very well.” The earl stood up. “I imagine you would like me to get started as soon as possible.”
“Yes, my lord. Gabrielle will be waiting for you at the Hôtel Royale.”
“Is there any particular name I am to go by?”
Herries said, “You could use your given name, my lord. I don’t think anyone would recognize it.”
The earl smoothed one of his sleeves. “Very well. I will meet this Gabrielle and go with her to the circus, where I will pretend to be her husband. What about the gold?”
“It will be loaded into the circus wagons before you get there, my lord. You should be able to start your journey immediately.”
“How long will it take us to get to Portugal?”
“If you get the gold to Biarritz, the army will take it over the Pyrenees to Wellington,” Rothschild said. “The journey from Lille to Biarritz should take about a month, my lord. The circus will have to make stops to perform. It would look suspicious if it didn’t.”
The earl’s finely chiseled lips settled into a grim line. “The things I do for my country,” he said. “Very well. I will leave for Brussels tomorrow.”
“Thank you, my lord,” both men chorused. After the earl had gone and the door was closed behind him, both Herries and Rothschild looked at each other. “Couldn’t Castlereagh have gotten someone who was not quite so noticeable?” Rothschild said.
Herries shook his head. “He wanted Lord Branford. Said if anyone could get the money through, it was he.”
Rothschild said, “I hope he was right, Herries. I hope he was right.”
Outside, the earl got into his chaise, tipped the boy who had been holding his grays and started the horses, driving through the city streets toward Grosvenor Square, where his town house was located. He pulled into the mews behind the house, relinquished his horse and carriage to one of his grooms, and went into the house from the back.
He was surprised by his eighteen-year-old sister in the hallway in front of the library.
“Oh, there you are, Leo,” Dolly cried. “Mama and I have come to call on you.”
“Have you?” he asked. “And whose idea was that?”
“Mine. Come into the drawing room and join us.”
“I can’t stay long, I have things to do. I am leaving for the Peninsula tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Dolly was clearly upset. “So soon?” Her gaze dropped to his injured leg.
“I am perfectly healthy. There’s no reason for me to linger in England when my regiment needs me.”
“But there is a reason,” Dolly lamented. “I wanted you to help me with my come-out. I thought you could be my escort to Almacks when I make my first appearance there.”
“Good God,” the earl said. “Whatever put that into your head?”
“Well, there is one other thing you can do for me. Come along and talk to Mama,” Dolly said, and, taking her brother’s arm, steered him past the magnificent circular staircase into the marble-floored front hall and thence into the drawing room, which looked out onto Grosvenor Square. Sitting on a gold velvet sofa in front of an alabaster fireplace was a lovely middle-aged woman whose hair was so fair that it scarcely showed the white that had begun to streak it.
“Hello, Leo,” she said quietly.
“Hello, Mama,” he replied. He made no attempt to go to her. “This is a surprise.”
“Dolly dragged me. We are planning her come-out and she has a question she wants to ask you.”
His eyes, the same shade as his mother’s, moved to his sister’s animated face. “What question?” he asked.
His sister looked at him pleadingly. “Please, can we use the ballroom here at Standish House for my come-out ball? It would be so wonderful to have it here. If we have it at Jasper’s house we will have to use the drawing room, and it isn’t very big.”
Jasper Marley, Lord Rivers, was Dolly and Leo’s stepfather. Dolly, along with Leo’s two young brothers and his half brother, lived with her mother and stepfather.
Leo looked at his mother. “Was this Dolly’s idea or yours?”
“Believe it or not, the idea was Dolly’s,” she replied composedly.
“Yes, it was,” Dolly said. “I think Papa would want me to have the best come-out, Leo. I think he would want me to use the ballroom.”
He looked into his sister’s anxious face. “I’m sure he would. Of course you may use the ballroom. But I won’t be here for the great occasion.” He turned his eyes back to his mother. “I am leaving tomorrow for the Peninsula.”
Her fair eyebrows drew together with concern. “Must you go back, Leo? Surely you have done more than your share in this war. You’re twenty-eight. It’s time for you to be thinking of marrying and setting up your nursery. You have the succession to think of.”
His mouth set. “I have two younger brothers, Mama. If something happens to me, the earldom will stay in the family. And I believe in finishing what I start. The war is not over yet.”
She met and held his eyes. “You took a bullet in your leg. You may not be so lucky the next time.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Would you care?”
Her eyes watered. “Of course I would care! You’re my son.”
“Lucky me,” he replied.
Dolly said anxiously, “I wish you wouldn’t fight with Mama, Leo. I know you don’t like Jasper, but he’s not that bad. I think you and Mama should make up your quarrel before you go back to the war.”
“We don’t have a quarrel,” the earl said. “Do we, Mama?”
She surprised him by answering, “Yes, we do. And I wish we could put it behind us, Leo. I hate to see you going into danger again.” She stood up and clasped her hands in front of her. “Can’t you forgive me?”
His face was hard as stone. “Some things can’t be forgotten…or forgiven. And now, if there’s nothing more you need me for, I have a number of things to do before I leave tomorrow.”
A ripple of pain passed over his mother’s face.
“Leo!” Dolly said sharply.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Dolly,” he replied curtly. “You came here to get use of the ballroom—well, you’ve got it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have things to do. Good afternoon.” He turned and strode out of the room.
“Mama, are you all right?” Dolly flew to her mother’s side.
“Yes, I’m fine.” Tears were running down Lady Rivers’s face.
“What is wrong?” Dolly asked in bewilderment. “Can Leo still be angry with you for marrying so soon after Papa died?”
“Leo has his reasons, Dolly. I don’t blame him for his actions toward me. I just wish he had a little more charity in his heart, that’s all.”
She took out her handkerchief and wiped her eyes dry. “Come along, dear.” She tried to smile. “Leo isn’t the only one who has things to do.”
Two
It was raining when Gabrielle Robichon’s elderly carriage pulled up in front of the Hôtel Royale. She got out of the carriage and went to talk to the driver. “You can stable the horses in the mews in back of the hotel, Gerard. Make sure they are rubbed down and give them a bran mash.”
“I know, Gabrielle,” said the driver, who was almost as venerable as the carriage. “I’ve been taking care of horses for longer than you’ve been alive.”
Gabrielle smiled at him.
Gabrielle’s older companion appeared at her side. “For heavens sake, chérie, let’s get out of this rain!”
“All right, Emma, all right,” Gabrielle said. The two women hurried toward the door of the hotel, which was opened for them by a liveried doorman.
“Our bags are in the carriage,” Emma said to the doorman. “Will you have them fetched, please?”
“Yes, madame,” the man replied. “I will have them sent up to your room.”
“Thank you.”
The two women approached the desk. “We are supposed to have a reservation, Emma,” Gabrielle said.
The clerk behind the desk looked at them, and Emma said, “Madame Dumas and Madame Rieux. I believe we have a reservation.”
The clerk looked at his book. “Yes, I see it here. I will have someone show you to your room, mesdames.”
“Thank you.”
The two women followed a livery-clad young man up the central staircase to a room on the second floor. Emma and Gabrielle looked around at the four-poster bed, the aged Oriental carpet, and the nightstand with a pitcher of water and a basin. When the young man had left, Emma said, “Well, here we are, ready to embark on this crazy scheme.”
“It’s not so crazy,” Gabrielle said, taking off her bonnet. “Papa transferred gold for the Rothschilds many times.”
Emma took off her own hat, baring her dyed red hair. “That may be true, but you never had to masquerade as the wife of a strange Englishman before!”
“Mr. Rothschild insisted. It’s stupid, of course. He should know we can be trusted to get his gold to Biarritz without an English bodyguard to make us more noticeable.” Gabrielle looked disgusted. “If Papa were still alive they would never have thought of doing this.”
Emma said, “On the other hand, it will be nice to have someone along who will be responsible for the gold besides us.” She put her bonnet on a walnut chest with a lace runner on the top. “If something bad happens, he can take the blame.”
“Nothing bad is going to happen,” Gabrielle said firmly. “Except I am going to have to pretend this anglais is my husband.”
“I hope he is a gentleman,” Emma said nervously. “Just think, Gabrielle, you may have to share your bedroom with him!”
“Don’t worry, Emma, nothing is going to happen.”
Gabrielle smiled. “I will keep my trusty knife handy, believe me. If he tries anything, I’ll skewer him.”
Emma shivered. “Please God it will not come to that.”
“I doubt it will,” Gabrielle said soothingly. “Mr. Rothschild said the man is a colonel on his way back to the army after being wounded. A colonel should be a gentleman.”
“I hope so,” Emma said “There’s a dining room downstairs,” Gabrielle said. “Let’s go and get something to eat. I’m starving.”
Emma smiled in agreement. “We don’t often get the chance to eat in a hotel of this quality.”
The two women removed their pelisses, hung them in the wardrobe and went down to the dining room.
The earl arrived in Brussels the following afternoon to meet Gabrielle Robichon. He checked into his room at the hotel and was told that the ladies were out. He asked to be notified when they came back.
At five o’clock a hotel employee brought him word that Mesdames Rieux and Dumas had returned and would receive him in room 203. The earl, who was on the third floor, went down a flight of stairs and knocked at the designated door. It was opened by a middle-aged woman with dyed red hair and faintly slanted green eyes. She was wearing rouge.
“Good afternoon,” the earl said pleasantly. “I am Colonel Leo Standish.”
“Good heavens,” the woman said, staring up at him. Then, visibly gathering her wits, she opened the door wider and said, “Come in, Colonel.”
The earl stepped into the room. A charmingly husky voice said, “How do you do, Colonel. I am Gabrielle Robichon Rieux.”
He turned slightly and looked into the huge brown eyes of one of the loveliest girls he had ever seen. Her shining brown hair was parted in the middle and drawn back into a single braid that went halfway down her back. Her nose was small and delicate and her lips were clear-cut and perfect. She was holding out her hand but she was not smiling. He crossed the floor to take her hand into his own. She was quite small; her head did not reach the top of his shoulder, but her handshake was as firm as a man’s.
“You are married?” he said in surprise.
“I was married,” she replied matter-of-factly. “Now I am a widow.”
“You’re very young to be a widow,” he said. He was a little discomposed. He had not expected her to be so pretty.
She shrugged, a very Gallic gesture. “This stupid war has made widows of many young women. I am sure that is true in your country as well.”
“Unfortunately, it is. Was your husband killed in the war?” he asked.
“No. He was kicked in the forehead by one of the circus horses.” Her face was grave. “It was such a stupid accident. André lifted the horse’s rear foot to clean it and Sandi kicked out—something he never does. It was just bad luck that he got André in the head.”
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“We had only been married for a few months. It was very sad,” Gabrielle said. “And now let me introduce you to my companion, Madame Emma Dumas.”
He turned to the older woman and held out his hand. “How do you do, Madame Dumas.”
They shook hands and then he turned back to Gabrielle. “I appreciate the awkwardness of this situation for you, Madame Rieux. You are very generous, allowing me to masquerade as your husband.”
She shrugged again. “I myself do not think it is necessary, but Monsieur Rothschild insisted. Frankly, Colonel, you are likely to call more attention to us than to be a help.”
He said stiffly, “I will do the best I can to blend into the circus, madame. You are carrying a huge amount of money that is vital to the British forces. It is only natural that the army wants someone along to keep an eye on it.”
She bristled visibly. “Monsieur Rothschild trusted Papa implicitly!”
“But your father is not here any longer,” he pointed out. “And even if he was, the army would probably want to have someone go along.”
She crossed her arms and eyed him up and down. “You are not the sort of person who can easily blend in,” she said.
He was annoyed. “I will do the best that I can, madame.”
There was a little silence. Then she said, “If we are to be married you must call me by my Christian name, Gabrielle.”
“And you must call me Leo,” he said.
“Leo,” she said. Then, briskly, “It is too late to leave Brussels today. We should plan on leaving early tomorrow morning. That way we will make Lille before it gets dark.”
He asked, “The circus is at Lille now?”
“Yes. We wintered there. We usually begin our tour in mid March, so we will be starting a little earlier than usual. But not so much earlier as to make us noticeable, I think.”
“Very well.” He looked at Emma. “May I invite you ladies to have dinner with me this evening?”
“Thank you,” Emma replied with dignity. “That will be very nice.”
Gabrielle nodded.
“At seven o’clock, in the dining room?” he asked.
“That will be fine,” Emma replied.
He gave the women a perfunctory smile and went to the door. It had not quite closed when he heard Emma say, “Whoever would have thought our escort would look like that?”
The door closed before he could hear Gabrielle’s reply.
The dining room of the Hôtel Royale was small, with room for perhaps thirty people. When Gabrielle and Emma entered they saw Leo immediately; he was sitting at a table near the fireplace.
“Good evening, ladies,” he said, rising to greet them.
“Good evening,” the two women replied in unison.
A waiter held Gabrielle’s chair and she seated herself, carefully arranging her plain yellow silk evening dress. Emma, who was dressed in emerald green, was seated as well.
Gabrielle looked at the man who was to pretend to be her husband for the next month. André would be jealous, she thought as she took in Leo’s clean-cut features, his blue-green eyes and his thick golden hair. She noted the breadth of his shoulders underneath his black evening coat. This man was very different from André, who had been dark, whippet-slim and only a few inches taller than herself.
He’s big enough to carry water and help with the tent, she thought. She looked at the unconsciously arrogant tilt of his head. He’ll probably think those tasks are beneath him, though.
The waiter was standing by to take their order and she gave her attention to the menu. Once they had chosen, Leo looked at Gabrielle and said, “So tell me about your circus. How many people do you employ and what do they do?”
Gabrielle folded her hands in her yellow silk lap and replied, “It is called the Cirque Equestre because we feature horses. We have five Arabians who perform at liberty, we have a grand old fellow who is our rosinback, and we have two Lipizzaners that are trained to High School and who do a pas de deux. They also perform individually.”
Leo held up his hand to stop her. “You have Lipizzaners trained in High School?” he asked incredulously.
“Yes. Two of them. Papa was able to buy them off the farm in Austria and he trained them himself.”
“He trained them with your help, Gabrielle,” Emma put in.
“Papa had the knowledge. I just followed what he said to do.”
Leo said in amazement, “I had no idea you had horses of this quality.”
Gabrielle was insulted. “Did you think we were just a carnival? I’ll have you know that the Cirque Equestre is well-known for its horses.”
Amusement glinted in his eyes. “I did not mean to denigrate you. Forgive me. It’s just that I am very interested in classically trained horses. I had an opportunity to see some Lusitanos in Portugal and I thought they were marvelous.”
Gabrielle didn’t care for the amusement, but she accepted the apology by nodding gracefully. When she spoke she kept her voice cool. “Portugal has a wonderful history of classically trained horses. France, of course, did also, but the Revolution destroyed it. Papa was determined to keep alive the tradition as best he could. All of our horses are classically trained.”
“That’s wonderful. Who rides your Lipizzaners?”
“I do. And my brother Mathieu accompanies me in the pas de deux.”
“I look forward to seeing them perform,” he said with such obvious sincerity that Gabrielle was appeased.
She smiled at him. He did not smile back.
Very well, monsieur, she thought with annoyance. If you want to be all business, then we will be all business.
“How many people do you employ?” he asked.
“The part of the circus that is permanent is my family—myself and my brothers, Mathieu and Albert. Then there’s Gerard, who is our ringmaster, and Emma and her dogs. That makes five. Then we have the acts that accompany us.”
“And what acts are those?”
“First there is the circus band—that is four members. Then there is Luc Balzac, our equestrian, Henri and Franz and Carlotta Martin, who are rope dancers, and the Maronis, who are tumblers—there are four of them. Sully is our clown, and Paul Gronow, our juggler.” She tilted her head a little. “How many is that? I have lost count.”
“Fourteen plus the five permanent members,” he said.
“Oh, and we employ two grooms.”
He nodded. “Which of these people know about the gold?”
“Myself, my two brothers—” she smiled at her companion “—Emma and Gerard. The people who winter with us.”
“What about the grooms?”
“Jean and Cesar don’t winter with us. They report to the circus when we are ready to set out.”
“So, five people. And everyone else will think that we are married?”
“Yes,” she said. “I suppose it is good that you are so handsome. That will make it more believable that I should marry a noncircus man.”
“Thank you,” he said sarcastically.
She shrugged. “I speak the truth. You are going to be difficult to explain. You will have to work, though. You can’t just stand around and do nothing. Everyone who knows me knows I would never marry a man like that.”
Leo just looked at her.
“What do you think you could do?” she asked.
“I have no idea,” he replied shortly. “Just don’t expect me to perform. I’ll help out with the labor end of things, but I’m not getting up in front of people and making an ass of myself.”
Her eyes glittered. “Our performers are all trained artistes, Leo,” she said. “I wouldn’t dream of putting an amateur in our ring.”
“Good,” he said. “Then we understand each other. I’m here to get the gold to Wellington. If I have to work, I will. But not in public.”
She folded her lips in a stern line. “Very well.”
The first course was served. What the hell can we talk about? he thought. What do I have in common with circus people?
Gabrielle said conversationally, “It looks as if we are seeing the last days of Napoléon. His grande armée was destroyed in Russia and soon your General Wellington will defeat his army in Spain.”
The war was something Leo could always talk about and he responded appropriately. The war and international affairs carried them through dinner, and when he got up to escort the ladies out of the dining room, Leo was feeling slightly better. If he was going to have to spend the next month shackled to a female circus player, it was a help that she seemed to be intelligent.
Three
The following morning, Leo met his traveling companions in the hotel lobby, where they were waiting for their coach to be brought up. He was dressed in a rust-colored riding coat, breeches and high boots—an appropriate outfit for a circus, he thought.
Gabrielle frowned when she saw him. “Those clothes are all right for dress-up,” she said, “but you can’t dress like that around the circus.”
He was dumbfounded. He had thought he was dressed down. “What do you suggest I wear?” he asked a trifle acerbically.
“Trousers, low boots, a shirt—without the tie—and I suppose you can wear that jacket to keep warm. We’ll stop in a town along the way and do some shopping. I have a feeling that nothing you have with you is appropriate.”
Leo looked at his portmanteau and said sarcastically, “Can I at least keep my underwear?”
He would never in a million years have mentioned underwear to an English lady.
But Gabrielle didn’t blink. “Yes, you can keep your underwear. But I will pick your outerwear. It’s important that you don’t raise any suspicions. We can’t do anything that may call attention to ourselves.”
She was right, and he was annoyed that she was right. He was also annoyed that she looked so pretty, standing there with the chandelier light shining off her beautiful silky brown hair.
“Where’s your bonnet?” he asked abruptly.
“In the hatbox,” she replied. “I hate wearing bonnets. They are so confining.”
Emma, who was wearing a bonnet, said, “Nevertheless you should wear it, chérie.”
“I made my impression coming into the hotel. Now that I am leaving I can do as I like.”
Emma rolled her eyes. Gabrielle patted the circle of braids that crowned her head. “Besides, I can’t fit a bonnet over these braids.”
Leo said, “I was under the impression that short hair was in vogue for women.”
“It’s not in vogue for circus performers,” Gabrielle informed him haughtily.
Leo was conscious of a fleeting feeling of approval. It would be a shame to cut off all that lovely hair. He found himself looking forward to seeing it down.
Good God, he thought in horror as he realized what he was thinking. I can’t become attracted to this circus girl. That would be disastrous.
“Here is the carriage,” he said crisply, grateful for the distraction. “Are you ready, ladies?”
Gerard stopped the carriage in front of the hotel door and the three of them went out to meet it.
Gabrielle’s attempt to buy clothing for Leo was not very successful; he was too tall for any of the trousers they looked at, although they did manage to buy some plain white cotton shirts that were more appropriate than his own custom-tailored ones.
“I can make him some trousers,” Emma finally said to Gabrielle, and so they bought material instead.
Leo found himself alternating between indignation and amusement at the way the two women treated him. You would think I was five years old, he thought, as Gabrielle held a shirt up in front of him and nodded that it would be all right. They made their purchases and returned to the carriage for the final leg of the journey into Lille.
The circus was gathered on the outskirts of the city, on the farm that Gabrielle’s family had rented for the winter months. As they drove in, Leo saw a collection of a dozen or so wagons parked in a big field. Gerard drove past the wagons, however, and went directly to the farmhouse, where his passengers alighted.
A slender young man, who looked like a masculine copy of Gabrielle, came out to meet the carriage.
“Leo, this is my brother, Mathieu,” Gabrielle said. “Mathieu, this is my new husband, Leo Standish.”
“How do you do, Mathieu,” Leo said.
Mathieu looked from Leo to Gabrielle. “He’s going to be very hard to hide. He’s so big—and he certainly doesn’t look French.”
“I know, but there’s nothing we can do about it,” Gabrielle said. “He’s what Monsieur Rothschild sent us.”
“What if we said he was Swedish?” Mathieu asked. “Would people know that his accent was English and not Swedish?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Leo said flatly. He did not at all appreciate being talked about as if he wasn’t there. “If someone does recognize my English accent they will wonder why you are attempting to disguise me.”
Mathieu frowned, clearly not liking having his idea so summarily rejected.
“All circuses are international,” Gabrielle said briskly. “The Maronis are Italian, after all, Mathieu, and the Cirque Barent has an English clown. It will be all right. Now, can we go into the house instead of standing here in the front yard?”
Leo had to duck his head as he went through the front door. The room that he found himself in was the main living room of the farmhouse. It was furnished with heavy oak furniture and on the walls were a series of rural landscapes. As if on cue, a fawn-colored greyhound came racing up to Gabrielle. She bent to caress the beautiful, deerlike head. “Colette, my darling. How are you? Did you miss me?”
The dog sniffed her clothes and her hands.
“She was a lost soul without you,” Mathieu said. “You have her so spoiled, Gabrielle, that she just pines away when you are gone.”
“Poor little girl,” Gabrielle crooned. “I missed you, too.”
Leo loved dogs. “What a beautiful animal,” he said. The dog turned her head as if she had understood him. He snapped his fingers and she came to him, allowing him to caress her with royal grace. Then she returned to Gabrielle.
There was a rush at the door and more dogs came dashing in. “Mes enfants!” Emma cried. “Here you are!”
Leo looked at the six small terriers that were leaping around Emma. “Good heavens,” he said.
Emma smiled at him. “These are my trained dogs. You will see them in action when we perform.”
The room was very crowded with dogs. Emma said to Gabrielle, “I will take them outside and then upstairs to my room.” She held the door open and the dogs scampered out, followed by Emma.
Gabrielle turned to her brother. “Where is Albert?”
“He went down to the barn to check on the horses. He’ll be back soon,” Mathieu said.
“Albert is your other brother?” Leo asked.
“Yes. He is two years younger than Mathieu.”
“And how old are you, Mathieu?” Leo asked.
“Nineteen,” the boy replied.
Leo’s eyes went to Gabrielle, who was standing with one hand resting on her dog’s head. “Who owns the circus?” he asked. “I thought it was you.”
“My brothers and I own it together,” she replied, “but Papa put me in charge because I am the eldest.”
“How old are you?” Leo asked curiously.
“Twenty-two,” she replied.
Emma said, “Here is Albert now.”
A young boy who looked like Mathieu, but whose hair was several shades lighter, came into the room.
“Gabrielle!” He went to hug her. “Everything went all right?”
“Yes. Albert, this is Leo, my new husband.”
The brown eyes that fixed themselves on Leo’s face were a lighter shade than Mathieu’s and Gabrielle’s. “Hello,” he said. “You are the English colonel?”
“That’s right.” Leo held out his hand. “I am pleased to meet you, Albert. But call me Leo.”
“The horses are all right?” Gabrielle said.
Albert nodded.
“Good. Now, is there any food in the kitchen? We pushed on to make it here this evening and we missed dinner.”
“I think there’s some cold meat and bread,” Mathieu said.
“I’ll go and fix something,” Gabrielle said. “In the meanwhile, you boys can show Leo to his room.”
Both boys looked at her. Albert said, “Which room is his? There is no extra room.”
“He’s going to stay in my room,” Gabrielle said. “It would look distinctly odd if he did not.”
Both boys frowned and looked at Leo.
“Your sister will be perfectly safe,” Leo said. “The only consequence she might suffer from this masquerade is a little embarrassment.”
“I am never embarrassed,” Gabrielle said. “Go along now and take him upstairs.”
The two boys and Leo, who was carrying his portmanteau, went up the stairs with obedient alacrity.
Gabrielle fixed a plate of cold roast beef and sliced bread, which she set on the kitchen table. Emma was already sitting at the table when the boys and Leo joined them. Mathieu and Albert had already eaten, but they sat at the table, anyway, clearly wanting to hear whatever the conversation was going to be.
Gabrielle sat down and put some meat on her plate. She looked at her two brothers, then she looked at Leo. He was piling roast beef on his plain, slightly chipped white plate.
He looks down on us, she thought. He is an English colonel and we are just circus folk. I foresee an uncomfortable four weeks ahead.
Leo looked up from his meal. “Has the gold been loaded?”
Gabrielle looked at Mathieu. “Yes,” he said. “Monsieur Rothschild’s men came three days ago and transferred it into our wagons. No one saw them. The rest of the wagons only came yesterday.”
“I would like to see the gold myself,” Leo said.
Gabrielle was insulted. “Do you think we would lie to you?”
“Not at all. But since I have been charged with getting it safely to Portugal, I must see it.”
He doesn’t trust us, she thought. She said coolly, “Better to look tomorrow morning, when we are loading up to go. It will look strange to the rest of them if you start poking around the wagons now.”
He looked annoyed. “Of course,” he said in a clipped voice.
She pressed on. “As I believe I told you, my family, Emma and Gerard are the only ones who know about the gold. We don’t want to do anything to raise suspicion in the others.”
“I said I agreed with you.” His annoyance showed in his voice. “I’ll wait until tomorrow to check it.”
Gabrielle was pleased. She had gotten under his guard. She rewarded him with a smile.
He stared back, his face impassive. He was the first man she had ever met who did not respond to her smile. The smile died away from her lips and she regarded him thoughtfully. Did he never smile himself? She could not remember seeing him smile once during that long dull ride from Brussels to Lille—he had not even smiled when they were buying clothes and he had looked so funny in the jacket he had tried on.
Was he always like this, or was it just because he was with people he thought were beneath him?
Don’t brood about it, Gabrielle, she told herself. You only have to put up with him for four weeks and then your duty will be done and he will go back to his regiment. Let him be as sour as he pleases. It can’t bother you.
“Everything is ready,” Albert said. “Do you want to leave tomorrow?”
“Is everyone else ready?”
“Yes, we were just waiting for you,” Mathieu said.
“There’s no point in waiting, then,” Gabrielle replied. “The sooner we leave the sooner we will get our cargo to its destination.”
“What is your agenda?” Leo asked abruptly.
“Our first stop is Amiens,” she said. “We will spend one day traveling and then two days in Amiens, where we will give four performances—one in the afternoons and one in the evenings. Vincent, our advance man, has gone ahead to Amiens to procure a field for us and to book lodgings.”
He frowned. “You didn’t mention Vincent.”
She lifted a delicate eyebrow. “Didn’t I? I suppose I forgot because he’s our advance man, he doesn’t travel with us, he travels ahead of us. We meet him at a designated spot and he takes us to the field he has rented and gives us directions to the lodgings he has procured.”
“He puts our bills up all around town, too,” Albert said eagerly. “Here, I’ll show you one.” He jumped up and went into the living room, coming back with a paper in his hand. Leo took it.
ROBICHON CIRQUE EQUESTRE
A GRAND EQUESTRIAN DISPLAY
STARRING
MLLE GABRIELLE ROBICHON
DANCING HORSES!
HORSES AT LIBERTY!
JUGGLING!
TIGHTROPE DANCING!
DARING FEATS OF HORSEMANSHIP!
M. LUC BALZAC!
M. SULLY, the Clown!
TUMBLING!
TRAINED DOGS!
THE COURIER OF ST. PETERSBURG!
Performances
12:00 and 4:00
“Very nice,” Leo said, looking up from the circus bill. “But there is no direction.”
“Vincent will write the direction on each bill before he posts it,” Emma explained. “He’ll also write the days of the week we will be performing.”
Leo nodded and handed the bill back to Albert.
Emma stood abruptly. “There is a trundle bed in my room, Gabrielle. Shall I have one of the boys bring it into your room for Leo?”
Everyone stared at Leo as the thought of their sleeping arrangements was introduced.
Gabrielle suppressed the urge to laugh. “I own I would like to see the sight of Leo trying to sleep on a trundle bed.”
“You forget I have been in the army for five years,” he said imperturbably. “A trundle bed will look good compared to some of the places I have slept.”
“Good,” Emma said briskly. “Mathieu, come upstairs with me and we will move that bed.”
Mathieu got to his feet. He looked at Leo suspiciously. “Where are you going to sleep when we are on the road? There will only be one bed in the room Vincent rents for you.”
“If I have to sleep on the floor, I will,” Leo said a little impatiently. “I’ve done it before.”
Mathieu’s brown eyes searched his face and seemed to be satisfied with what he saw there. He nodded and turned to follow Emma out of the room.
“I’m going to walk down to the barn to see the horses,” Gabrielle said. “Would you like to come, Leo?”
“Yes, I would.”
“Come along, then,” she said. “Albert, if you will put the dishes in the sink, I will wash them when I get back.”
Gabrielle picked up a lantern from beside the kitchen door and lighted it from a candle, her greyhound going immediately to her side. Gabrielle turned to Leo and gave him what she hoped was a superior look. “We can go out this way,” she said. “Do try to keep up.”
Four
The lantern threw a yellow light on the path before them and Leo took it from Gabrielle’s hands, saying, “Let me carry that.”
They crossed the yard, the dog leading the way, and went down a path that led to a large barn. When they had driven in earlier, Leo had seen that it looked rather ramshackle, but now in the dark it was simply a great looming building in front of them. The door was open and inside smelled like horses and hay.
He held up the lantern to illuminate the area.
“This way,” Gabrielle said. “We’ll say hello to the Lipizzaners first.” Her voice softened. “Hello there, fellow.”
Leo heard a soft nicker, and a white face loomed up out of the darkness of the stall. Gabrielle rubbed the white forehead and straightened a forelock. She gave the horse a piece of sugar, then opened his stall door to check if he had a full bucket of water.
“This is Sandi,” she said. “Neapolitano Santuzza, to be formal about it.”
“He’s small,” Leo said in surprise.
“Lipizzaners aren’t tall, like thoroughbreds. They are built for collected work, not for running races. He has marvelous muscles, though. You will see them tomorrow.”
“I’m looking forward to seeing him perform,” Leo said sincerely. It was the one good thing he had heard about this circus. He might have to put up with tumblers and clowns, he thought, but at least he would get to see Lipizzaners in action.
Gabrielle moved to the next stall, the greyhound at her heels. “And this is Conversano Nobilia, also known as Noble.”
Another white head appeared out of the darkness and another piece of sugar was snapped up. Once again Gabrielle checked the water.
“How old are they?” Leo asked.
“Sandi is twelve and Noble is thirteen. But Lipizzaners can work for a long time. Some of the horses that perform at the Spanish Riding School in Vienna are in their twenties.”
“That is remarkable,” Leo said. “Thoroughbreds can’t match that.”
“Thoroughbreds are beautiful animals, but they are no good for a circus. My father used to say all they are good for is going fast.”
“But they do that extremely well.”
He saw her white teeth gleam in the lantern light. “Yes, they do. I must say I have a wish to ride a thoroughbred one day. It must be like sitting on the wind.”
“That’s a good way of putting it,” he said approvingly.
She moved gracefully across the aisle to another stall. “And these are our Arabians,” she said. “They perform at liberty. You will be amazed at what they do.”
He followed her to the next stall. “At liberty?” he asked.
“Yes, they have no bridle or saddle and they go by themselves in a circle, turning and reversing and circling at the slightest signal—without a hand touching them. It is an act Papa invented and it always gets a rapturous response from the audience.”
“It sounds impressive,” he said, noting the pride in her voice.
“This is Kania,” she continued, offering sugar. She then went down the line, checking water and naming each horse as it came forward for its treat: “This is Shaitan, this is Sheiky, this is Fantan, and this is Dubai.”
Each of the horses had the dished face and wide forehead of the true Arabian. All of the horses were pure white.
They recrossed the aisle to the Lipizzaner side of the barn. “And this is our darling Coco, our rosinback horse.”
“What is a rosinback?” he asked curiously.
“Coco is the horse most of the trick riding is done on. We put rosin on his back so that the vaulters’ slippers won’t slide.” She patted his white face. “He’s part Percheron and he’s a sweetheart.”
When she spoke to her horses her voice was soft and full of love. For the first time, Leo found himself liking this circus girl.
“Are these all your performance horses?” he asked.
“Yes. The next horses in line are our wagon horses. They deserve a treat, too.” They went along the line and fed eight more horses, who came as eagerly for their sugar as the elite horses had.
“I’m looking forward to seeing them all in the light of day,” Leo said as he accompanied Gabrielle to the door. The greyhound preceded them out.
“They are lovely horses,” she said. “My papa picked them all. He used to be Master of the Horse under the late king, you know.”
“So Rothschild told me. He also told me that your father died recently. I am sorry for your loss.”
“We miss him very much,” she said softly. “It is a big responsibility for me, to try to run the circus the way he would have wanted. But I have the help of my brothers and Emma and Gerard.”
He glanced down at the girl at his side. It was a lot of responsibility to rest on those slender shoulders, he thought. And she had had the courage to take on Rothschild’s gold, too.
“Your brothers are very young.”
“Yes, but Papa trained them well.”
“I noticed that it was your name on the circus bill.”
“I am the featured rider and trainer, yes. Mathieu and Albert are good riders, but not as good as I.” She said this perfectly matter-of-factly. “I have Papa’s touch with horses, you see.”
They were approaching the door to the farmhouse kitchen and he held up the lantern to illuminate the door-knob.
“Who is Luc Balzac, the other equestrian mentioned on the bill?” he asked.
He noticed the faintest change in her voice as she answered. “Oh, Luc is a wonderful rider. You will have to see him to believe what he can do.”
She pushed open the kitchen door and went inside, followed by Leo. As he extinguished the lantern she went to the sink. “I will just wash up these dishes,” she said. “You can dry.”
He looked up from the lantern. “I beg your pardon?”
“I said, you can dry these dishes after I wash them. Here is a towel.”
He stared at the towel she was holding out as if it was a poisonous snake. She chuckled, a rich, husky sound that was thoroughly delightful. “Have you never dried dishes before?” she asked disbelievingly.
“No, I have not,” he replied defensively.
“Well, now is a good time to start,” she said. “In the circus we all have to do a little of everything.”
He considered telling her to go to the devil, but then his common sense stepped in. I suppose I must blend in, he thought. It’s only for a month.
He came forward and took the towel from her hand. He waited while she washed a plate in a pan of water and then he dried it.
“See?” she said, giving him a smile. “It’s not so bad.”
He looked back impassively. “It’s a new experience,” he said.
Her smile faded and she turned away, plunked another plate in the pan and washed it.
It was about ten o’clock at night when everyone went to bed. There was a tense silence as they all went up the stairs and Leo and Gabrielle went together into her room.
“I will be right next door if you need me,” Mathieu told his sister meaningfully.
“I’m sure I won’t,” she replied. “Anyway, I have Colette. Get some sleep, Mathieu, and stop worrying about me.”
“Good night, chérie,” Emma said, and kissed her on the cheek.
“Good night,” Gabrielle replied. She opened the door to her bedroom. “Come along, Leo,” she said, then went into the room, leaving the door open for him.
She talks to me exactly as if I was her dog, Leo thought indignantly as he followed her in, candle in hand.
The bedroom was not large. It had a four-poster bed, and at its foot a narrow trundle bed had been made up with a quilt and a pillow. There was one nightstand and a wardrobe and a single straight chair in front of the fireplace.
Pretty dismal, Leo thought, thinking of his own sumptuous bedroom at home.
The dog jumped onto the bed and settled herself along the bottom. He looked at her for a moment before he turned to Gabrielle. “Is this your farm?” he asked.
“No, we rented it for the winter. It is not so easy to find a place for four months that has the stabling we require, so we have to take what we can get. We had this place last winter and I was lucky enough to get it again this year. They are looking to sell it, but the wartime economy is bad.” She paused and gazed around the tiny room.
“Getting dressed and undressed is going to be a problem,” she finally said. “There is no private dressing room in any of the places where we will be staying. If we turn our backs on each other can I trust you not to look?”
“Certainly,” he said stiffly.
“All right. I will get undressed in front of the wardrobe and you can get undressed on the far side of the bed. Don’t look until I say it’s all right.”
Leo said, “I had intended to sleep in my clothing.”
“Don’t be stupid,” she replied. “You don’t have that many changes and we don’t have much chance to do laundry. Don’t you have a nightshirt with you?”
He did not enjoy being called stupid and replied even more stiffly than before. “As a matter of fact, I do.”
“Then put it on,” she ordered. “I have been a married woman. I have seen a man in a nightshirt before. You won’t shock me.”
The humor of the situation suddenly struck him. He was sounding as if he was a virgin, he thought. His mouth quirked into a smile. Very well, he thought, if he wasn’t going to scandalize her in his nightshirt he would be very much more comfortable than he would be sleeping in his clothes.
“All right,” he said. He lifted his portmanteau onto the bed, extracted a nightshirt and turned his back. “I won’t turn around until you tell me I can,” he said.
“Good.” He heard her walking toward the wardrobe. Silence fell as he removed his clothing and slid the nightshirt over his head. The bedroom was cold and he moved quickly. It was about three minutes before he heard her say, “All right. You can look now.”
He turned around and she was wearing a long white flannel gown with a collar and buttons. Her hair was still fixed into a coronet around her small head. “You can have the bed. I’ll fit in the trundle bed much better than you.”
“I wouldn’t dream of taking your bed,” he said with surprise. “No gentleman would consign a lady to a cot while he slept in comfort.”
“You may be a gentleman, but I’m not a lady,” Gabrielle said. “I’m a practical woman who works for her living. And it’s ridiculous to fold you up on that bed when I shall be perfectly comfortable there.”
As if to prove her point, she went over to the trundle and sat down. Then she reached up and began to remove the pins from her braids. “Go ahead,” she said. “Get into bed. It’s cold in this room and your legs are bare.”
He was slightly scandalized. There was no other way to put it. Leo was far from being a virgin, but he was a little off balance with this girl who coped so matter-offactly with their intimacy.
“What about the dog?” he asked.
“She always sleeps on the bed. She won’t bother you. You have plenty of room.”
Slowly he pulled the covers back from the bed and got in. He watched in silence as she unbraided her hair and let it fall loose around her shoulders and down her back. Then she took a ribbon and tied it at the nape of her neck.
She caught him looking at her. “Good night, Leo,” she said pointedly.
“Good night…Gabrielle,” he replied.
She nodded with satisfaction. “That is the first time you have said my name. It’s not so bad, is it? Will you blow the candle out?”
He blew the candle out and listened to the small sounds she made as she pulled the covers up around her and settled herself to sleep.
Well, he thought, the important thing is to get the gold to Wellington. If I have to put up with a snip of a girl ordering me around I suppose I can endure it.
The bulk of Colette was warm against his chilly feet. He closed his eyes and went to sleep.
Gabrielle woke in the middle of the night, something that was unusual for her. For a moment she was disoriented, finding herself in a strange bed. Then she remembered that she was in the trundle bed and she also remembered who was sharing the room with her.
Leo. It suited him, she thought, a big golden lion of a man. And his eyes—never had she seen that shade of aquamarine. There was an aloof look in those eyes, however. She knew he was not happy to be joining a circus.
Perhaps he is the younger son of some great lord, she thought. Perhaps that is why he sought to make the army his career.
She lay quietly and listened. The room was silent. If she listened very carefully she could hear Leo breathing.
He doesn’t snore. That’s nice. André used to snore and I would have to push him to turn him over.
Her thoughts turned to her dead husband and sadness overcame her. He had been so full of energy, André. It wasn’t fair that life had been taken from him at such a young age.
Two years ago he was alive. Two years ago we shared a room together, and now I share it with this stranger, this cold Englishman who thinks he is better than the rest of us.
How he had looked when she told him to turn his back and undress! She swallowed a giggle. The circus will take the starch out of him, she thought. I’ll see to that.
Five
When Gabrielle arose the following morning Leo heard her and sat up in bed. It was still dark.
“We need to be on the road early,” she said. She lit a candle. “I want to be in Amiens by late afternoon. Turn your back so I can get dressed. Then I will get out of your way.”
He obliged and listened to the sounds she made as she got into her clothes. Then she said, “All right.”
He turned to look at her and found her clad in high boots, a brown divided skirt and a white, long-sleeved shirt. “Come downstairs when you are ready and Emma will prepare you breakfast,” she said.
He watched her small, straight, slender back disappear out the door, followed by her dog, then he got up and opened the package of clothing they had bought yesterday. He took out a coarse cotton shirt and regarded it with distaste. It pulled on over the head and had a tie at the neck. He put the shirt on and then his breeches. The shirt was loose and billowed out of his tight breeches.
I must look a sight, he thought ruefully. If Fitz and the others could see me now, how they would laugh.
He pulled on his boots and went down to the kitchen to see what was for breakfast.
Emma was in the kitchen with her dogs when he entered. “Good morning, Leo,” she said cheerfully. “Did you sleep well?”
“Yes, I did,” he replied courteously.
Six dogs looked at him, but none came to sniff him. They remained where they were, curled up on an old quilt under the window.
Emma got up from her chair and went to the counter. “There is coffee and bread and butter,” she said.
He was used to an English breakfast, with eggs and meat, and the proffered bread seemed rather paltry. But, “That will be fine” was all he said, and let her pour him his coffee and add milk in the French way. Then he took his plate and went to the table.
“Where is everyone else?” he asked as he took a long drink of the coffee.
“Getting the wagons ready,” she replied.
“There looked to be quite a few wagons in the field,” he remarked. “How many are in the caravan?”
“Let me think.” She frowned slightly. “I have a wagon, the Robichons have two wagons, and the Martins—they are the tightrope dancers—have one. The Maroni brothers—they are the tumblers—have one, and Sully, our clown, shares a wagon with Paul Gronow, our juggler. Luc Balzac has a wagon. Then there is the bandwagon. That makes eight, I believe. Then we have two more wagons filled with hay and grain, and one for the tents and one for benches. So that makes twelve altogether.”
“That’s not a lot to house a whole circus.”
“The horses are our chief performers, and they get tied behind the wagons.”
The kitchen door opened and Mathieu and Albert came in. They were dressed in trousers, scuffed boots and knitted sweaters. “All that’s left to do is to harness up the horses,” Mathieu said. “Is there more coffee, Emma?”
“Where is your sister?” Leo asked Albert as Emma poured both boys a cup.
“She went back upstairs to pack her clothes.”
“All the costumes are packed, I hope,” Emma said.
Leo decided it was time to discuss their important cargo. “I would like to see the gold, if you please.”
Mathieu scowled. “I can show you where it is,” Albert offered. He stood up and started for the door. Leo followed him.
“Make sure there is no chance of anyone coming in on you, Albert,” Mathieu warned.
“I know,” the boy replied. “Come with me, Leo, and I will show you.”
They exited the kitchen and began to walk across the field to where the wagons were parked in two lines. Most of the wagons had horses picketed next to them. The sun had come up and Leo was conscious of people looking at him curiously as he walked with Albert.
“How long has your sister’s husband been dead?” he asked Albert. “Will people think it’s odd that she has married again?”
“André has been dead for a year and a half,” Albert said. “I don’t think people will be surprised that Gabrielle has remarried, but they will be surprised to find she has married a noncircus man. We will have to find something for you to do so you don’t look too odd.”
“I can help with the horses,” Leo said.
Albert cast him a dubious look. “We’ll see,” he said.
Leo was insulted. Evidently this slight boy didn’t think he was fit to be trusted with circus horses. “I assure you that I am capable of looking after a horse,” he said coldly. “I have been riding since I was four years old.”
Albert said carefully, “You see, our horses are different from the horses you rode, Leo.” By “different” it was clear that he meant “better.”
“And somehow I don’t see you carrying manure, which is what helping out with the horses entails.”
Leo hid his surprise. He hadn’t envisioned himself carrying manure, either, but he was certainly capable of doing so, if necessary. He said grimly, “If you need me to carry manure, then I can do it.”
“Let’s see what Gabrielle says,” Albert said. “She’s the one who doles out the jobs.”
They had reached the first wagon. “This is ours.”
The wagon was painted white, with the words Robichon Cirque Equestre written on its side in red letters. There was a picture of two horses’ heads painted under it.
Leo stopped to look at the picture. “The Lipizzaners?” he asked.
Albert nodded. “The one on the left is Sandi and the other one is Noble.”
The two pictures were clearly painted by one who knew horses.
“It’s a very good painting,” Leo said slowly, leaning in for a closer look. “Who did it?”
“I did,” Albert said.
Leo looked at him. “You have talent.”
A faint flush stained Albert’s cheeks. “I love to paint and draw,” he said.
“Do you have other pictures?” Leo asked.
“Yes. I have pictures of some of the places that we’ve visited. And I have done many pictures of the circus and its horses.”
“I’d like to see them,” Leo said.
The boy’s flush deepened. “I would be happy to show you.”
They had come to the back of the wagon, which had two doors that opened outward. Albert opened the doors and climbed in, followed by Leo.
The wagon was lined with trunks. “Extra costumes and props,” Albert explained. The center of the wagon was empty save for an old upholstered sofa and some large pillows. The floor was bare wooden boards. “Here,” Albert said. He went to the front of the sofa and dropped to his hands and knees. “See, this board is loose.” He took a knife out of his pocket, fitted it between the boards and pulled it up. “They were designed to fit together very tightly, but once you pry this one up, the rest of them can be lifted out.” He removed a few more boards. “Come and see,” he said.
Leo got down on his own knees and peered into the space that was revealed below the floorboards. “It’s too dark to see anything,” he said.
“Here, I’ll get a candle.” Albert rummaged through one of the trunks and took out a candle and a strike-alight. He lit the candle and brought it back to Leo, who used it to illuminate the shallow space below.
He saw a brown canvas bag. He lifted it out and pulled it open. Inside was a large pile of gold napoléon d’or coins. He nodded with satisfaction. “Excellent,” he said.
“Monsieur Rothschild had both our wagons fitted out like this. It is very clever, I think. The boards fit so closely together that they don’t have to be nailed.”
“Yes, it is clever,” Leo agreed slowly.
“Are you satisfied?” Albert asked.
Leo replaced the moneybag. “I’d like to see the other wagon,” he said.
Albert frowned. “It’s just like this one.”
“Nevertheless, I must verify that the gold is there.”
“As you wish,” Albert said stiffly, and led the way to the second wagon, which bore a picture of three horses all rearing in unison.
They both climbed into the wagon, which was loaded with saddles and bridles and more trunks. They repeated the same inspection that Leo had made of the other wagon, then replaced the floorboards and started back to the house.
“I take it your sister’s husband was a circus man,” Leo said easily as they walked side by side.
Albert looked up at him. “Oh, yes. André was a very great horseman. I have seen him jump two horses over four feet while he was standing on their backs.”
“Good God,” Leo said.
“Yes. Luc Balzac, who traveled with us last year, is a good equestrian, but he is not as good as André was.”
“What a pity that he should die so young.”
“It was terrible,” Albert confided. “Gabrielle was distraught. They had only been married a few months.”
“How sad,” Leo said gravely.
“Yes. Gabrielle was sad for a long time. But over the winter she seemed to become happy again. Emma says that she has gotten over it.”
They had reached the house and Leo did not reply. Albert opened the kitchen door and peered in. Leo heard Emma say, “Get yourself down to the barn, Albert. They need you to help harness the horses.”
“All right, Emma,” Albert said. He turned to Leo. “You can wait here with Emma and we’ll call you when we’re ready to go.”
“I’ll go down to the barn with you,” Leo said. He looked down at the old building where Mathieu was putting a harness on two hefty-looking draft horses. “Perhaps I can help by holding a horse or two.”
They arrived at the barn just as Gabrielle came out leading two more horses. “Albert,” she called when she saw them. “Harness up Jacques and Tonton. Leo, you can help by leading the harnessed horses out to the wagons and hitching them up.”
By eight o’clock they were ready to go. Gabrielle said to Leo, “Come with me and I will introduce you around before we leave.”
She walked next to him as they approached three people standing beside a wagon. Gabrielle smiled at them nervously. “I have come to introduce my new husband. Leo, this is Henri and Carlotta Martin and Henri’s brother, Franz, our rope dancers.” Both men had black hair and the woman was blond, wearing a cotton dress with a large blue shawl draped over her shoulders.
“I am pleased to meet you,” Leo said as genially as he could.
“A new husband?” Carlotta remarked. She arched a plucked brow. “And so handsome, Gabrielle.”
“I have high standards,” Gabrielle replied serenely.
Henri asked, “What do you do, Leo? You’re awfully big to be an equestrian.”
“I’m afraid I’m not a circus person,” Leo said. “But I will be happy to pitch in and help in any way I can.”
“Not a circus person?” Franz said. He could not have looked more shocked if Leo had announced he was a vampire.
Everyone looked at Gabrielle. “Where did you meet?” Carlotta asked.
“In Brussels,” Gabrielle said easily. “It was quite a whirlwind romance, and here we are.”
Carlotta gave Leo an arch smile. “Well, I can see why Gabrielle fell in love with you, Leo.”
Leo did not smile back. “Thank you, madame,” he said in an expressionless tone.
The smile faded from Carlotta’s face. “Don’t call me ‘madame.’ Everyone in this circus is on a first-name basis with everyone else.”
Evidently he had insulted her. Leo forced a smile to his face. “Then thank you, Carlotta,” he said.
Her smile bloomed again. “Gabrielle is a very lucky girl.”
“It is I who am the lucky one,” Leo replied gallantly.
“Come along,” Gabrielle said. “I want to introduce you to the others.”
The rest of the introductions went much the same as the first. Leo met the four Maroni brothers, who were tumblers; the four band members Adolphe and Antonio Laurent, and Pierre Maheu and his wife, Jeanne. Paul Gronow, the juggler; and Sully, the clown. The only introduction that sounded a note of trouble to come was Leo’s introduction to Luc Balzac, the equestrian.
“Married? When the hell did you get married?” he said angrily to Gabrielle when she introduced Leo.
Leo looked at him measuringly. He was a tall—though not nearly as tall as Leo—slender young man with black hair and blazing blue eyes.
“Quite recently,” Gabrielle said. There were spots of color in her cheeks.
“I thought you were still mourning your precious André.” There could be no doubt that the young man was furious. And hurt.
“I was, but then I met Leo and things changed. André wouldn’t mind. He would want me to be happy.”
Luc snorted and turned hostile eyes toward Leo. “So what do you do, pretty boy?”
Leo opened his mouth to give the antagonistic young man a scalding dressing down, but then he stopped himself. If he played the aristocrat he would betray his disguise. So he forced himself to reply dispassionately that he would be happy to help around the circus as best he could.
The angry blue eyes turned back to Gabrielle. “Christ, Gabrielle, you didn’t even marry a rider!”
“Leo can ride very well,” she said defensively. “He just does not perform.”
“Then what good is he?” Luc demanded.
Leo said firmly, “I am good for Gabrielle and she is good for me. We love each other and the circus has nothing to do with it.”
Good God, he thought. Where did that come from?
Gabrielle moved closer to him, so that he could feel her body actually touching his. “That is so, Luc, and you are just going to have to get used to it,” she said firmly.
“You said that someday you would marry me!”
“I never said any such thing,” she replied hotly. “I said I was not ready to marry again when you asked me. I never said anything about the future.”
“Merde!” Luc said.
Leo had had enough. “Watch your tongue. There is a lady present.”
Luc flicked him an angry blue glance. “Believe me, Gabrielle has heard much worse than that.”
“Not in my company,” Leo said grimly.
“What’s done is done, Luc,” Gabrielle said. “Now, we are ready to get moving so I suggest you get into your wagon.” She touched Leo’s arm with her hand. “Come along, Leo,” she said.
Just like a dog, he thought again as he trailed after her across the field to their wagon.
“Just who is this Luc Balzac?” he asked when they had reached their destination. “He obviously feels he had strings tied to you.”
She looked worried. “He wanted to marry me last year, but I put him off. I didn’t want to say no outright because I was afraid he would leave the show.”
“He loves you?”
“So he says. I wonder if he loves Papa’s circus even more.”
“You think he wants to marry you to get in on the circus?”
“The thought has crossed my mind,” she admitted.
“And how do you feel about him?”
“I feel that he is a very good act that I would like to keep in my circus,” she replied carefully. “So many of the truly great ones attach themselves to a stationary circus, like Astleys. I don’t want to lose Luc.”
“But not enough to marry him?”
“No, not enough to marry him. He has a dangerous temper. Not like my André, who was kind through and through.”
They reached the first wagon where Leo had inspected the gold earlier and Gabrielle turned to survey the field. Everybody was in their wagons. She put her foot on the step and Leo automatically moved to help her. She cast him a scornful glance. “I am not helpless.” She swung up to the seat, moved over and began to unwrap the reins. She glanced down at Leo. “Come up.”
He followed her into the seat and looked at her small gloved hands competently holding the reins. “Do you drive this thing? Where are your brothers?”
“Driving the other wagons,” she replied. She lifted the reins and made a kissing noise to the two horses in front of her. Obediently, they started forward. Gabrielle turned to Leo with a brilliant smile. “The start of another season. It is exciting, no?”
Leo didn’t smile back. He said, “I hope the season isn’t exciting at all. I just want to get this money to Biarritz.”
“We will,” Gabrielle said confidently. “I know we will.”
Six
The other wagons fell in behind Gabrielle and drove out of the field and onto the road. They would pass through Lille and then take the road south to Amiens.
“I wish you would let me drive,” Leo said. “I’m supposed to be helping out as best I can, remember?”
“You can drive when we get to the main road on the other side of Lille,” she said.
It sounded to him as if she didn’t trust him to get them through the city and Leo’s mouth set. He refrained from comment, however, and instead tried to make his legs as comfortable as he could.
“So, Leo, tell me about yourself,” Gabrielle said as they drove through the early-ploughed land on either side of them.
He looked at her. Her own eyes were on the road and her profile was so delicate and pretty that he was momentarily distracted. She turned her head to catch his eye and gave him an encouraging nod.
He had no intention of talking about himself to this girl. “There’s nothing much to tell,” he said stiffly. “I grew up, went to school, and when I got out I joined the army. End of story.”
After a moment she said wryly, “It’s a good thing you didn’t want to become a novelist. You’d have trouble filling up the pages.”
“What about you?” He tried turning the tables. “You must have led a far more exciting life than I.”
She shook her head. “Oh, no, don’t think you’re going to get off that easy! Where did you grow up, the country or the city? What school did you go to? Why did you join the army?”
Those things are none of your business. He thought the words but restrained himself from speaking them. He would have to stay on good terms with this girl; it would look suspicious if they were at odds with each other. He said grudgingly, “I grew up in the country, in the part of England that is called Sussex. It’s very pretty there, with rolling hills we call the Downs. My father had an estate and we had a lot of horses. I lived there until I was eight, then I went away to school.”
She turned to him and her brown eyes were full of pity. “You English! It is terrible how you push your children off to school when they are so young. You must not like children very much.”
He had never thought about such a thing. “I am sure English parents love their children quite as much as French parents,” he said defensively.
“Then why do they send their children away to school so early?”
They had left the farmland and were now driving along a city roadway, with gray stone residences on either side. A man walking a dog stopped to watch as they went by. Gabrielle waved to him.
Leo answered, “For the education, of course. It would be impossible to get as good an education at home. Schools have masters who are experts in a variety of fields of study.”
She clicked to the horses, which had turned their heads to observe a man painting an iron fence close to the road.
“That may be true for older children, but young children can learn all they need to know from a good tutor at home. Eight! Mon Dieu, that is outrageous.”
Leo didn’t think this remark merited a reply.
Gabrielle went on. “It is only the upper class who can afford to do such a thing, yes? Is your father a noble?”
He hesitated for a moment but could find no reason for not telling the truth. “Yes.”
“Ah-ha!” She gave him a triumphant grin. “I guessed that you were the younger son of a noble. Wasn’t I clever?”
“Very clever,” replied the eldest son of an earl.
“Is that why you went into the army, to make a career for yourself?”
He frowned. Was this interrogation ever going to end? “Yes,” he said shortly.
She nodded, as if satisfied.
He folded his arms. “Now it is your turn to tell me about yourself. Have you always traveled with the circus?”
“It has been my life for as long as I can remember. Papa had to find something to do when the king fell, and he didn’t want to stay near Paris, where everyone knew he had been the king’s horse master. A traveling equestrian circus seemed to be a good idea, and we have been very successful.”
“And your father was against Napoléon?”
“Papa was a royalist, through and through. He himself was the grandson of a noble, you see.”
“And you are a royalist as well?”
“Not like Papa was,” she said. “I think too many people were poor under the ancien régime. But Napoléon is as bad. How many men did he lose in Russia? Half a million at least. And now his men are all over the country, conscripting a new army to go on fighting. Even the peasants are resisting this conscription—everyone is sick of war. We are sick of Napoléon, if the truth be known. A return of the monarchy would be better than what we have—if the monarchy was like the English one and responsible to a parliament.”
A shock of hair had fallen across his forehead in the breeze and he pushed it back. He was impressed by her intelligence and conviction. “If Louis is restored it will be more of a constitutional monarchy—I’m sure of that.”
“It had better be. To have gone through what France has gone through and to end up as we began—that would be a tragedy.”
He, who had always thought it would be desirable if France returned to the old ways, thought for a minute about what she had said. Then he surprised himself by saying, “Yes, I suppose it would be.”
They had been driving through the main part of Lille as they spoke and people on the sidewalk waved to them and called out greetings.
“I’m surprised you don’t start your tour in Lille,” Leo said.
“We end our tour in Lille,” she explained, waving back to a little boy who was jumping up and down and crying, “Gabrielle! Gabrielle!”
Leo asked, “Do you go to the same places every year?”
“We have several different routes, and we have done the southern route before, so it won’t look strange for us to be traveling toward Spain.”
“That’s good,” Leo said. “The more normal this circus looks, the better.” He looked around. “Where is Colette?”
“Inside the wagon sleeping on the sofa. That’s how she usually travels. I give her a good run before we leave and she runs again when we arrive, otherwise she sleeps.”
“She’s a beautiful dog,” he commented.
She smiled. “Shall I tell you a secret? She’s not really a dog—she’s a princess in disguise.”
He laughed. It was the first time she had heard that sound and she turned her head to look at him. He looked younger when he smiled, she thought.
“How old are you, Leo?” she asked.
All of the amusement left his face. “I should have prepared a letter of introduction for you,” he said.
She gave him an annoyed look. “I am trying to be polite and to make conversation. And I should know how old you are if we’re supposed to be married.”
“I am twenty-eight,” he said evenly. “You seem young to have the responsibility for a circus like this.” He tried to steer the conversation back to her.
“Yes, but I spent many years watching what Papa did. I can handle it.” She looked at him. “That is, I can handle it if we don’t come under suspicion for carrying this gold. Frankly, I think the English government was mad to insist I take a noble’s son along on such a mission.”
“I don’t plan on telling people that I’m a noble’s son,” he said in annoyance.
“There’s something about you…an air of authority…that makes you stand out. That could be dangerous.”
“Nonsense,” he said.
“It isn’t nonsense. You saw the reaction of the rest of the circus members. You don’t fit in.”
He was aware of how clipped his voice had become.
“I am here to make certain that the gold gets delivered to Wellington and I intend to do my job.”
“I know!” she exclaimed, not listening to what he had been saying. She turned to him and her large brown eyes were sparkling. “You can be our ringmaster!”
He looked at her as if she was insane. “I am not going to be a ringmaster—or anything else! I am not here to perform in your circus.”
“But it would be such a clever disguise,” she said excitedly. “You’d make an excellent ringmaster—there’s that air of authority, you know. And it would be a great camouflage. It would make you part of the circus, not just a suspicious addition.”
“I am not going to perform in your circus. You might as well get that through your head,” he said in his coldest voice.
She looked at him with a combination of surprise and disappointment, then turned her head back to face the horses. They continued the journey in silence.
They reached the outskirts of Amiens at about five o’clock, and Vincent, the advance man, was waiting for them at the Coq d’Or inn on the main road. He came over to Gabrielle’s wagon and told her that they had secured the same field as last year.
“Wonderful!” She turned to Leo. “This is Vincent Duplay, our advance man. Vincent, meet my new husband, Leo.”
Vincent looked at Leo in surprise. “I didn’t know that you had remarried, Gabrielle. When did this happen?”
“A few weeks ago,” Leo said smoothly. “We are still newlyweds.”
Gabrielle shot him a glance. His face was perfectly grave.
He is the most humorless man I have ever met, she thought. I wonder if he is like this with people of his own class or is it just us peasants who rate that somber expression.
She looked back at Vincent. “Where have you booked us to stay, Vincent?”
“The same place as last year. Is that all right?”
“Fine,” she reassured him. “It was quite a decent hotel. Have you put notices around town?”
“Yes.”
“Good, then you can help put up the tent.”
“Yes, madame.” He gave her a mock salute. “Nice to have met you,” he said to Leo.
Leo nodded. Soberly.
Gabrielle sighed as she took the reins back from Leo’s hands. “Better let me drive. I know where the field is.”
It was large and flat, sparsely covered by grass and surrounded by trees.
“This is such a perfect place for us,” Gabrielle explained to Leo as they arrived at the field. “There is a stream just inside the woods over there. We can bring the horses to the water instead of always having to drag the water to them.”
She watched as Leo looked around. It looked like an ordinary field to him. “Very nice,” he said.
Gabrielle said briskly, “Well, before we can go to our lodgings we have to make certain the horses are comfortable. Get down, Leo,” she ordered. “There’s work to do.”
All of the wagons had emptied by the time Leo and Gabrielle reached the ground, and all the circus members gathered around her. She issued her orders.
“You know the routine,” she began, looking at each person in the group. “First we have to get the horses settled. Mathieu, Albert, Jean, Cesar, Leo and I can put up the corral. Then we’ll unharness the horses and take them for water. The rest of you can help with the tents.”
Most of the assembly turned and started to walk toward the wagon in which the tents were stored. Gabrielle went to open the back door of her wagon to let Colette out and her brothers and the grooms headed in the direction of the wagon Mathieu had been driving. After a moment’s hesitation, Leo followed them.
Mathieu climbed up into the driver’s seat and drove the wagon to a place a few hundred feet from where all the other wagons were parked. When he stopped, the two grooms jumped into the back of the wagon and started handing down long pointed wooden poles to the rest of the men who stood on the ground. When they had all been unloaded, they were followed by four heavy wooden mallets.
“We put the stakes into the ground and then we put up a rope to make a corral,” Albert explained to Leo.
“Surely you can’t put all the horses in the corral together?”
“The corral is only for our horses. The rest of the circus pickets their horses for the night under the stable tent. Gabrielle likes to give our horses a chance to lie down.”
“They don’t try to get out? A rope corral isn’t that sturdy.”
Albert shrugged. “If they wanted to get out they probably could, but the corral is where they are fed, and besides, they are used to it.”
Something rustled in the trees and the greyhound was off like a shot.
“Good God,” Leo exclaimed. “She moves like the wind.”
“Colette can run,” Albert agreed.
“I’ve never seen a greyhound run. They really are amazing.”
“What kind of dogs did you have in England?”
“My family had mostly spaniels and retrievers—hunting dogs.”
Albert said, “Greyhounds are hunters, too—they are sight hounds, not nose hounds—but Colette is a pet.”
“Most of the ladies in England have little dogs for pets,” Leo said. “Pugs or King Charles spaniels.”
“Gabrielle has always liked big dogs. Colette is her second greyhound.”
Mathieu came up to them and handed Leo a mallet. “Here you go, Leo,” he said. “You look like you’re strong. You can pound the stake while Albert holds it.”
The men had pounded the stakes in the ground more quickly than Leo would have believed, then two lengths of thick rope were looped through holes that had been drilled in the posts.
“Very neat,” Leo remarked, impressed despite himself.
Gabrielle came up to her brother and Leo. “Emma and I will start to untie the performance horses and take them down to the stream for water.” she said.
She favored Leo with a brief smile. “See how you can make yourself useful?” she asked. “There is always something to be done in a circus.”
He nodded but did not reply.
When the performance horses had been corralled, Leo helped unharness the wagon horses and take them for a drink. By the time they had finished with the horses, the circus tent was up. Leo looked at it and was impressed.
“I’ve never seen a tent like that,” he said to Mathieu.
“It was Papa’s invention, the round tent. It makes for good viewing from all sides and you can get more people in.”
“And you put it up in so short a time!”
“It’s simple, really,” Mathieu said. “First we put up the center pole, then we lace the canvas pieces together and drape them over, then the quarter poles are put in to hold the tent out, and voilà, we have a tent.”
“Very efficient,” Leo said.
“Don’t you have tents in the army?” Mathieu asked.
“Actually, Wellington has ordered tents for this last campaign. Until now the men have bivouacked in the open.”
Mathieu said, “We have two more tents to put up, the stable tent and the dressing tent. Then we will be done for now.”
Gabrielle came up to them, her greyhound at her heels. “We need to hay the horses,” she said. “Leo, you can help Mathieu.”
More orders. He replied as calmly as he could but knew his temper was showing. “Very well.”
Gabrielle stood and watched as he went off with her brother, but not before he noted the speculative expression on her face.
Seven
“When were you married, Gabrielle?”
Leo could see Luc’s question had taken her off guard. They had left the animals fed and watered back at the field, and were now piled into the Robichons’ two painted wagons to make the short journey to their lodgings in town.
Leo ended up sharing a front seat with Luc Balzac and Gabrielle. Luc started asking questions as soon as Leo put the horses into motion.
“Oh, a few weeks ago,” she replied, too nervously for Leo’s taste. “It was quite a whirlwind romance, wasn’t it, Leo?”
He looked at her. Her large brown eyes were anxious. “Yes,” he said warmly, hoping to help the charade. “It was quite a romance.”
“And what do you do, Leo—or what did you do before you had the luck to marry a circus owner?” Luc’s voice was tinged with sarcasm.
Leo had already thought this out so his answer was prompt. “I bought and sold horses in England.”
Gabrielle said with annoyance, “Leo would not have married any circus owner, Luc. He married me. Isn’t that true, Leo?”
“Completely true, my sweet,” he said, then took her hand in his and kissed it.
It was not the smooth, soft hand of a lady. It was a strong, competent little hand whose skin was slightly chapped. Touching it, he felt a shock streak from his lips to his loins. He dropped her hand as if it had burned his mouth.
Gabrielle looked startled. He didn’t know if it was because he had dropped her hand so suddenly or because she, too, had felt the same shock that had leaped between them.
“You’re English,” Luc continued, not noticing Leo’s reaction. “What were you doing in Brussels?”
“Selling a horse,” Leo replied shortly.
“How did you meet Gabrielle?”
“Really, Luc,” Gabrielle said. Her husky voice sounded a little breathless. “You sound as if you’re conducting an inquisition. Leo and I met by chance and fell in love. That’s the whole story.”
Luc scowled. “I thought you were still mourning your beloved André.”
The faintest flush bloomed on Gabrielle’s cheeks. She has beautiful skin, Leo thought. It wasn’t the rose and white of an English complexion; it was more like peaches and cream.
Gabrielle said tightly, “I will never forget André.”
Leo sensed she was upset and forced a change of subject. “My wife tells me you are a superb horseman, Luc. Tell me about your act.” He spoke with the unconscious authority of a man who has given orders all his life.
There was a pause, then Luc said sulkily, “You’ll see it soon enough.”
“I am looking forward to it,” Leo replied. He glanced at Gabrielle to see if she had recovered herself. Her face looked composed.
As they were speaking, they had passed wagons filled with produce and another wagon selling ice. Now they came abreast of a farm wagon with a man and a child on the front seat. “Look, Papa,” the little boy called. “It’s the circus lady!”
He started to wave frantically and Gabrielle smiled and waved back. “I hope we see you tomorrow,” she called.
“Surely will,” the farmer called back. “The lad’s been talking of nothing else since he saw your poster.”
“Wonderful.” Gabrielle blew them a kiss.
“Was that necessary?” The words were out of Leo’s mouth before he had a chance to think about their wisdom.
Gabrielle gave him a surprised look. “Was what necessary?”
Stupid, Leo thought. She’s a circus performer, not a lady. She drums up business however she can.
“Nothing,” he replied. “I spoke out of turn. I imagine you get a lot of children at your performances.”
“We get people of all ages, from the very young to the very old. Luc, do you remember that woman last year who celebrated her eightieth birthday at one of our performances? It was amazing,” Gabrielle said to Leo. “Eighty years old and she was sitting on a bench watching our show! Isn’t that marvelous?”
Leo couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm.
They had reached the town limits of Amiens and within a few minutes they pulled up in front of a stone building with a sign outside reading Hôtel de Champs.
“Here we are,” Gabrielle said to Leo. “It’s not fancy but it’s clean and the beds are good.”
Leo turned to Gabrielle to help her down, but all he saw of her was her back. A second later she had jumped to the ground unassisted.
She turned to look back at him. “Can you hand me my bag, Leo?” she asked.
He picked up the canvas bag that contained her clothes and handed it down to her. She continued to surprise him, he thought. Certainly she was nothing like any woman he’d ever known.
“Give me yours, too,” she said.
He shook his head. “It’s too heavy, I’ll lift it down.” He jumped to the ground himself and lifted down his leather portmanteau.
“The landlady will have supper for us,” Gabrielle told him. “I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.”
Leo looked down into her delicately lovely face. She looked as if she existed on champagne and strawberries. “Food sounds good,” he said.
They all trooped inside the old hotel and settled around three tables in a large, shabby-looking dining room. Leo looked at the landscapes that hung on the wall. They were terrible.
A short, portly woman in a blue apron came bustling into the room. “Bon soir, Mademoiselle Robichon,” she said. “It is good to see you again.”
“Bon soir, Madame Gare,” Gabrielle responded. “It is good to be here. What do you have to feed us with tonight?”
“Lamb stew,” the landlady replied.
“Wonderful,” Gabrielle said.
“I will serve it immediately,” the woman said, and bustled out of the room.
“I thought you were Madame Rieux,” Leo said to Gabrielle. “Have you kept your own name for the circus?”
“Yes. Robichon is a well-known name in the areas we travel. Even when André was alive I was Mademoiselle Robichon in the circus.”
“Gabrielle is famous,” Albert said with pride. “Papa always said that of all the horsemen he had trained, she was the best.”
Leo raised an eyebrow. “That is quite a compliment.”
Gabrielle smiled modestly. “My father was prejudiced,” she said.
“That’s not true,” Mathieu put in. “She has my father’s touch.”
Leo remembered Gabrielle had said that also. “What do you mean by ‘touch’?” he asked curiously.
“She knows what a horse is thinking,” Mathieu said.
“Horses can’t really think,” Leo scoffed.
“Perhaps not, but they feel,” she insisted, “and they communicate what they are feeling through the reins. Unfortunately, few riders care to listen.”
Something about Gabrielle’s words and the certainty in her voice silenced Leo’s argument. He thought about her theory as he ate his lamb stew, confounded again by her unusual ways.
The conversation at the table had gone on without him, and when he turned his attention back they were talking about the brutal conscription that was going on in France.
“A soldier came to the farm over the winter,” Mathieu was saying. “Albert and I had to hide in the hayloft so he wouldn’t find us.”
“We had a scare, too,” Carlotta said. “Henri and Franz had to bribe the conscripting officer to get off.”
“Yes, it cost me a bundle,” Henri said. “The peasants don’t have the cash to hand over, though. Poor bastards. They’re pushed into the army and they don’t know the first thing about military matters.”
“Napoléon lost a huge number of men in Russia,” Leo said neutrally.
“Yes, and the rest of the army is tied up in Spain by the English,” Henri said. “It’s time Napoléon made a deal with the Allies and agreed to give back all his conquered territory and rule within the boundaries of France.”
“Do you think he would be content with that?” Leo asked curiously.
“No,” answered Emma flatly. “That man will never give up his territories. The Allies will have to beat him on the battlefield. He will never give up voluntarily.”
“Unfortunately, I think Emma is right,” Franz said.
“Do you think that France would be content for Napoléon to rule it?” Leo asked.
“If he ruled in peace, yes,” said Henri.
“After all, what’s the alternative?” Carlotta asked. “The return of the king? Did we go through all that we have gone through just to see the Bourbons back on the throne again?”
“I hope not!” Henri said.
Gabrielle spoke up. “If the king ruled with a parliament, like in England, that would be all right, Henri.”
“Perhaps,” Henri said grudgingly. “But the history of the Bourbons doesn’t suggest that they would be willing to do that.”
“I think the Revolution changed things in France forever,” Gabrielle said gravely. “No king will ever again have the power of Louis XVI.”
“Napoléon has that kind of power,” Henri pointed out.
“Napoléon is on his last legs,” Gabrielle insisted. “The English are beating him in the Iberian Peninsula, and if he is going to march against Germany again, it will be with an army of raw recruits. I think we are in the days of a dying regime.”
“I think so, too,” said Franz soberly.
Leo was careful not to contribute much in case he inadvertently gave away clues to his real identity. He looked down now at his empty plate. Madame Gare came out of the kitchen. “How are we doing, eh? Finished? I have apple tart for dessert.”
Gabrielle jumped up. “I’ll help you clear, Madame Gare.”
“Such a good girl,” the landlady beamed.
Emma also got up and quietly went to the next table and began to collect plates. The two other women in the company, Carlotta and Jeanne Maheu, a band member, remained in their seats.
After dessert was finished, Gabrielle went into the kitchen and came out carrying a large bag. “Supper for Cesar and Jean,” she said to Leo, referring to the two grooms who stayed behind to guard the horses. “I’ll take it out to them tonight. It’s the first night on the road for the horses and I want to make sure everything is all right.”
Leo said, “Will they remain with the horses all night?”
“Yes,” Gabrielle said. “Cesar has his two Alsatian dogs with him. They will sound an alarm if anyone tries to get near the horses.”
“Are Cesar and Jean armed?” Leo asked.
“Yes,” Gabrielle replied.
Leo nodded his approval.
“Shall I go with you, Gabrielle?” Luc asked.
Leo gave the equestrian a long, hard stare. “I will accompany my wife,” he said.
My wife. The words sounded so strange rolling off his lips.
Gabrielle patted Luc on his sleeve. “Thank you, anyway, Luc.”
Luc’s handsome face looked grim.
“Come along, Leo,” Gabrielle said, and without even glancing at him, she began to walk toward the door leaving him, along with her dog, to follow.
This has got to stop, Leo thought. I am not her servant! He wondered if she had treated André this way. I pity the poor bastard if she did.
Leo drove out to the field while Gabrielle held the food on her lap. Colette lay sprawled across her feet for the twenty-minute drive. Leo was silent and Gabrielle made no attempt to engage him in conversation. When they arrived they were greeted by two large black Alsatian dogs, which barked excitedly.
“Yes, yes,” Gabrielle soothed them. “I am bringing your dinner, too.”
Cesar approached them.
“Is everything quiet?” Gabrielle asked.
“Yes. The horses are all tired from the day’s journey. No one has acted up.”
“Good. I have lamb stew for you and Jean and the dogs.”
“Wonderful. We’re all hungry.”
The two men had put out benches and Gabrielle began to set out their meal on one of them. They sat on the other and started eating. Gabrielle then went to the wagon and returned with two large dishes into which she poured the remainder of the lamb stew. The two Alsatians began to eat hungrily.
Colette stood and watched them, her ears pricked.
“Don’t look like that—you just ate, you piggy,” Gabrielle said affectionately.
Colette ignored her; she continued to watch the other dogs eat.
“Let’s go look at the horses,” Gabrielle said to Leo, and they walked the twenty feet that divided them from the corral.
Inside, the Lipizzaners, the Arabians, Coco and four of Gabrielle’s carriage horses were eating quietly from their separate piles of hay.
It was a mild, pleasant evening. Leo found himself very curious about Gabrielle’s work. “What do you do when it’s raining?” he asked. “Do they stay out in the rain?”
“I put them in the stable tent when the weather is inclement.”
“And do you make a profit with this circus?”
“Papa did. I hope I can do the same.”
“Is this your first season running the show?”
“I finished up the last weeks last year. This will be my first whole season.” Leo thought she sounded a bit less assured than usual.
As they were speaking, one of the horses left his pile of hay, went over to another of the horses, nudged him out of the way and began to eat his hay.
“Jacques, don’t be a bully,” Gabrielle called.
The other horse stood looking sadly at his hay being devoured by Jacques. Gabrielle ducked through the ropes and went up to him. “Come along, Tonton,” she said, and led him over to the pile of hay that Jacques had deserted. The horse lowered his head and promptly started to eat. Gabrielle came back to stand beside Leo.
“Poor Tonton,” she said. “He is low man in the pecking order and I worry about him getting enough to eat.”
“He looks fat enough,” Leo said.
“That’s because he was fed in his stall all winter.”
As they watched, Jacques deserted Tonton’s pile of hay and went over to reclaim his own. Once again Tonton was without food.
“Mon Dieu,” Gabrielle said. “My poor Tonton.” She went back to the wagon, and when she returned she was carrying a lead rope. “The corral opens over here,” she said to Leo, pointing. “Hold it for me, and I’ll bring Tonton out. He can eat out here with us.”
She took down the rope and went in after the large bay horse. Leo watched, amused, as she led him out, handed him to Leo to hold and went back for Jacques’s pile of hay. She brought the hay outside of the corral, dumped it on the ground and went to take Tonton’s lead. She held the lead and Tonton lowered his head and began to eat.
“I’ll have to tell Jean and Cesar to leave Tonton in the stall tent where the horses are tied. We did it last year—they must have forgot.”
“You take good care of your horses,” Leo said approvingly.
“They deserve good care,” she returned. “They are the heart and soul of our show.”
They stood quietly, side by side in the darkening light, as Tonton munched away on his hay. Leo suddenly found himself acutely aware of her presence. All of his nerve endings seemed to be attuned to her, and he scowled, not liking the feeling at all.
Gabrielle broke the silence and called to the grooms. “I am going to tie Tonton to the corral. Make sure you put him back inside when he has finished his hay.”
Cesar came over to them. “I forgot about Tonton. Is Jacques still stealing his food?”
“Yes.” Gabrielle was busy tying a knot in Tonton’s lead rope.
Then she turned to Leo. “Let’s get back to the hotel.”
They walked back to their wagon, and as Gabrielle put her foot on the step to climb up, Leo put his hands around her slim waist and lifted her. She was light and buoyant as he swung her up to the seat.
“You don’t have to do that,” she said from her place above him. Her voice sounded a little breathless.
“A husband helps his wife,” he returned as he went around to the other side of the wagon.
“Nevertheless, I can get into the wagon by myself.”
He climbed into the seat beside her. “If we want to present the picture of a happily married couple, you are going to have to be less independent,” he told her sternly. “I’m not the sort of man to stand by and let his wife climb into a wagon by herself.”
With this, he pulled the reins from her hands and started the horses on their trip back to the hotel.
Eight
It was dark by the time Leo and Gabrielle got back to the hotel. Leo parked the wagon in the stable yard next to the other one. No groom appeared to unharness the horses, so he did it himself. Then he and Gabrielle put the horses into their stalls and returned to the stable yard.
Leo looked at the two wagons and said, “I’m wondering if I should plan to sleep on Colette’s sofa. I don’t like leaving the wagons unguarded for the night.”
Gabrielle shook her head decisively. “Your job is to do everything you can to fit into this circus. If you start sleeping in one of the wagons, everyone will wonder what is going on.”
“My job is to protect the gold,” he corrected, “but I suppose you’re right.”
“I know I am, so come along.”
Together they went into the hotel through the back door. They found Emma in the lounge, knitting, the Maroni brothers playing cards, and Mathieu and Albert playing chess.
“Here they are,” Emma said, looking up over her spectacles.
“Everything all right with the horses?” Gianni Maroni asked.
“Everything’s fine,” Gabrielle reported. “Where is everyone else?”
“Gone to the café down the street,” Mathieu reported.
Leo walked over to look at the chessboard. Mathieu was winning.
“Would you care to have a glass of wine before going to bed?” Gabrielle said to Leo. “We could walk down to the café if you like.”
Leo agreed and Gabrielle said, “Let me change into something besides this skirt and boots.” As Gabrielle left the room, he turned his attention to the chess game. “Whose turn is it?” he asked.
“Mine,” Albert said. He picked up a piece and Leo said, “Are you sure you want to move that?”
Albert gave him a surprised look. “Why not?”
“Look at your bishop,” Leo recommended.
Albert looked. “Oh,” he said, and hastily moved his bishop out of danger.
When Gabrielle finally reappeared, Mathieu greeted her return with a disappointed “Oh, are you going to take Leo away? He is helping Albert and giving me a little bit of a challenge for a change.”
“If I’m so terrible, then I won’t play with you at all,” Albert retorted. “It’s no fun for me to get beaten all the time.”
Leo looked at his supposed wife. She was wearing a long dark blue wool skirt with a matching jacket. It was a very simple outfit, with little trim, hardly fashionable, yet she managed to look very smart. Her hair was bundled into a loose chignon on the nape of her delicate neck.
“Stop quarrelling, boys,” she said to her brothers. “Ready, Leo?”
“Ready.” He followed her to the door and out onto the street. Colette went with them.
The café’s outdoor patio was closed up for the night, with chairs upended onto tables, but when they walked inside they were greeted with brightness and the smell of cooking oil. Most of the tables were taken, the largest one by the circus people. Gabrielle and Leo went to join them.
“Good,” Carlotta exclaimed happily as they came up to the table. “Another woman. Come and sit by me, Gabrielle.”
“I’m sure Gabrielle will want to sit beside her new husband, chérie,” Henri said. “Bring over those chairs, Leo, and you both can squeeze in here.”
Leo dragged the chairs over and he and Gabrielle sat down.
Sully asked, “I was wondering—why are we starting out so early this year, Gabrielle? It’s colder and the light doesn’t last as long. We usually don’t start for another two weeks.”
Leo looked at the man who was the Cirque Equestre’s clown. Sully was a tall, thin man with mournful brown eyes and a receding hairline. He didn’t look at all jolly.
“I just thought it would be a good idea to get a head start on the season,” Gabrielle said easily. “The more performances we put on, the more money we make. No?”
Leo, who knew that they were starting early so they could move the gold as quickly as possible, shot a swift look around the table to see if Gabrielle’s reason was accepted. A few people nodded and the rest seemed indifferent. He relaxed.
Jeanne Maheu, one of the band members, smiled at him. “Have you been to Astleys circus in London, Leo?”
Jeanne was an exotic-looking woman, with long black hair and slanting brown eyes. She almost looked Oriental, Leo thought.
“No, I have never had that privilege,” he said.
“Have you ever seen any circuses at all?” she pressed.
He shook his head. “No, madame, I’m afraid I haven’t.”
“Jeanne,” she corrected him. “We are all on a first-name basis in this circus, aren’t we, Gabrielle?”
“Yes,” Gabrielle replied.
“Never seen a circus?” Jeanne’s husband, Pierre, was astonished.
Leo did his best to look genial. “I will remedy that omission tomorrow. And I’m looking forward to it.”
Gabrielle said, “You have to fetch our drinks from the bar, Leo. I will have a glass of burgundy.”
Leo stood up, annoyed to have taken orders from Gabrielle in front of the others, and went off to the bar. When he came back to the table the rest of them were discussing the next day’s program.
“I am going by the order that Gabrielle gave me, and that’s that,” Gerard said hotly.
Luc said to Gabrielle, “I don’t think I should come directly after you. That makes too many equestrian acts in a row.”
“What’s the matter, Luc?” teased Antonio Laurent, one of the band members. “Afraid of the competition?”
Luc’s blue eyes glittered. “No!” he retorted.
“Let’s go with what I have for tomorrow, Luc,” Gabrielle said matter-of-factly. “If it needs changes I’ll make them for the next day.”
Luc did not look happy, but after a moment he nodded agreement.
The conversation veered to what they had all been doing over the winter, and Leo leaned back and watched the various faces around the table. The atmosphere among the group was comfortable. Everyone seemed to know everyone else and there was easy laughter when Adolphe Laurent told a funny story, which was then topped by his brother, Antonio.
They were a kind of people who were utterly foreign to Leo, but they seemed a pleasant-enough group. This might not be so bad, he thought. I’ll do what I have to do for four weeks, and then it will be over.
“What kind of horses did you sell, Leo? Were they racehorses?”
He brought his attention to Jeanne’s inquisitive face. “Hunters, mainly,” he said. “There’s a big market in England for reliable hunters.”
“Oh, yes, the English and their hunting,” Gerard commented. “Pierre Robichon used to say that the English passion for hunting has destroyed their horsemanship.”
“How is that?” Carlotta asked.
“They have lost their seat. All they do is stand in their stirrups and gallop,” Gerard said.
“I don’t think it’s quite as bad as that,” Leo said mildly.
“Well that is what Pierre said.”
“Papa meant that there is no manège training in England,” Gabrielle explained.
“There isn’t any in France any longer, either,” Leo shot back.
“But there was before the Revolution and there will be again after Napoléon. There is a tradition in France of classical riding. There is no such tradition in England.”
“The Duke of Newcastle was English and he trained in the classical way,” Leo said.
“True, but Papa said no one in England studied the Duke of Newcastle any longer. The few Englishmen who were interested in learning to ride properly came to Papa when he was the king’s Master of the Horse.”
Leo was annoyed. It was one thing for him to think his countrymen were not the best riders, but it was quite another to hear the same opinion from foreigners. “It takes a great deal of skill to ride a horse cross country,” he said stiffly.
Gerard said, “It is easy to gallop a horse cross country. All you need is balance. Watch Gabrielle ride tomorrow, then you will see what real horsemanship is.”
Gabrielle smiled at Gerard. “Thank you, Gerard,” she said.
Luc said scornfully, “However did you come to marry such a barbarian? Your father must be turning in his grave.”
Barbarian? Leo was outraged.
Gabrielle flushed. “Leo is not a barbarian,” she said.
Leo did not find her defense overly enthusiastic.
Jeanne gave him a warm smile. “Don’t pay any attention to Luc, Leo. He is just jealous because you married Gabrielle.”
“Not jealous, Jeanne—amazed,” Luc said sarcastically.
Everything in Leo wanted to give this bunch of common people an icy dressing down. But he couldn’t do it; it would alienate them and would make them wary of him. He forced a smile to his face. “Talk to me tomorrow, after I have seen your horses perform.”
“Good idea,” Gabrielle said briskly. She stood up. “I am ready to go back to the hotel, Leo.”
He stood up also. He was really getting tired of her habit of issuing orders to him. It was a good thing she was so pretty, he thought, otherwise this assignment would be miserable.
They walked back to the hotel in silence. The only ones left in the lounge were the Maroni brothers, who were still playing cards. Gabrielle bade them good-night and started toward the stairs.
“I am just going to step out to the stable yard to check the wagons,” Leo told her quietly.
She nodded. “I’ll wait for you.”
The stable yard was quiet. The moonlight illuminated the two wagons with the white horses painted on their sides. Leo pulled on the wagon doors, content that they were securely locked.
Christ, but I wish this journey was over, Leo thought. It stretched out before him like an eon of time. But it was only four weeks. Four weeks wasn’t that long, Leo thought. Then the gold would be delivered and he would be free to rejoin his regiment. He looked up to the sky at the full moon. The same moon was shining on his compatriots in winter quarters in Portugal, he thought.
Four weeks, and he would be able to return to them.
He went back inside to rejoin Gabrielle, who was waiting in the lounge. Together they mounted the stairs to their bedroom.
Another plain, serviceable room, Leo thought as he walked in through the door after Gabrielle. It was furnished with one bed, one wardrobe, a bedside table with a lamp and another table with a basin of water. The floor was wide wooden planks with a small, thin rug just inside the door. Colette immediately jumped on the bed and established herself at the foot.
The floor looked very hard, Leo thought with discouragement.
“We will do the same as we did last night,” Gabrielle said. “I will tell you when you can turn around.”
Leo turned away and fished his nightshirt out of his bag, which lay on the floor, and proceeded to take off his boots. Behind him he could hear the sounds Gabrielle made as she took off her own clothes, and he tried heroically not to envision how she would look naked. Her waist had been so slim and supple when he grasped it this evening….
Stop, he thought.
But it had been a long time since he had had a woman. Too long, he thought. That’s why he was reacting to this circus girl, he reasoned.
“All right,” Gabrielle said, and he turned around. She was wearing the same long nightgown as the night before, and her hair was loose around her shoulders and down her back. She had a brush in her hand, and as he watched she went over to the bed, sat on the edge of it and began to brush her hair.
He watched, fascinated, as the silken strands slid through the brush. “You have beautiful hair.” The words were out before he could stop them.
“Thank you,” she said, clearly surprised.
He cleared his throat. “Well, if you will lend me a blanket, I will bunk down on this rug.”
She stopped brushing and looked at him. “You don’t have to do that. You can share the bed with me—as long as you keep to your side.”
He stared at her in astonishment. “Are you sure?”
“I am sure, but you must understand, Leo, that I am not inviting you to take liberties with me. I am simply allowing you to have a comfortable place to sleep.” She looked at the rug. “That rug doesn’t look too clean.”
He looked at the bed. It was an ordinary double bed, the kind that a married couple would share comfortably. But they were not a married couple. He thought about what it would mean to lie so close beside her.
I might get more sleep on the floor.
But the rug definitely did look dirty. And the floor looked hard.
“All right,” he said. “Thank you.”
She nodded. “Is there a side that you particularly like? André always had to sleep on the left side of the bed.”
“No,” he said. “Either side is fine with me.”
“Bon. You can have the left side, then. I am used to having the right.”
He walked barefoot to the bed, feeling huge in his white nightshirt. She looked so delicate and so beautiful as she sat there brushing her hair.
He got in under the covers and watched as she finished brushing and took a ribbon and tied her hair at the nape of her neck. She stood up, folded back the covers and slipped into bed beside him.
“This is awkward, no?” she asked.
“Very awkward,” he replied. He had to curl his legs because the dog took up the bottom of the bed.
“I am sorry that we seemed to denigrate your countrymen tonight,” she said. “We of the Robichon circus tend to be very proud of the quality of our riding.”
“So I gathered,” he said. “This disguise of you being my husband is very difficult,” she said. “You saw tonight how astonished everyone was that I would marry a man who is not a good rider.”
Leo sat up. “Wait a minute. Who said I wasn’t a good rider?”
She looked up at him. “I don’t mean to insult you, Leo….”
“Well you do insult me,” he said hotly. “I’ll have you know that I am a bloody good rider. You and your friends may know some circus tricks that I don’t know, but…”
She also sat bolt upright. “Circus tricks! I am not talking about circus tricks! I’ll bet you can’t even ride a horse in shoulder-in.”
“What the hell is shoulder-in?”
“Hah!” she cried. “Shoulder-in is the most basic training tool of all classical riding. And you haven’t even heard of it!”
Why am I even arguing with this girl? He forced himself to calm down. “This is pointless,” he said. “We should get some sleep.”
“Certainly,” she said. “There is no point in arguing with you. You are too ignorant.”
It took all his discipline not to reply.
“Turn out the light,” she said, then turned her back on him, pulled the covers up over her shoulders and shut her eyes.
She was giving him orders again. He set his jaw, leaned over to the lamp and turned it off. Her voice came through the darkness.
“Good night.”
“Good night,” he replied.
Silence fell on the room. He was acutely aware of her sleeping but two feet away from him. Under the same blankets. She breathed so lightly he could scarcely hear her. His pulse was racing from the argument, he told himself. This is going to be a long night.
Nine
When Gabrielle awoke the following morning Leo was still asleep. She watched him for a minute without moving.
His hair was tangled on the pillow, his lashes lay still on his cheeks. He looked like a god strayed from the shores of ancient Greece, she thought. She had a sudden impulse to bend over him and kiss him awake, an impulse that immediately horrified her.
Mon Dieu! What am I thinking? I cannot become attracted to this man. That would put us in a horribly awkward position.
As if he had heard her thought, his eyes opened. She looked into their aquamarine depths and said briskly, “Wake up, sleepyhead. It’s time to go to work.”
He blinked, as if trying to place her.
“It’s Gabrielle,” she said. “You’re with the circus.”
He looked annoyed and his serene godlike aspect faded. “I know who you are,” he said.
“For a moment there you looked unsure.”
His eyes glittered but he didn’t reply. After a moment’s silence he said, “Are you going to get up?”
“Yes. And I am going to get dressed. Gather your clothes together and turn your back.”
She pushed the covers back and got out of bed, carefully pulling her nightgown down over her legs.
“Do you know, Gabrielle, I am getting rather tired of you issuing orders to me.” His tone was pleasant, but she detected anger behind the words.
She turned to look at him in surprise. “How will you know what to do if I don’t tell you?” she asked innocently.
He was sitting up in bed, the covers pulled to his waist. The open neck of his nightshirt showed his strong throat and chest. She looked at them, then quickly pulled her eyes away.
He said, “I am perfectly capable of figuring things out for myself.”
“If I had joined you in the army, I would expect you to tell me what to do,” she said reasonably. “You don’t know anything about the circus. I am only trying to keep you from making a mistake. The last thing we need is someone suspecting that you are an English officer.”
He folded his lips into a frown but didn’t reply.
“Bon,” she said, pleased that she had put him in his place. “Now can we get dressed?”
People started arriving for the circus at eleven o’clock the following morning. Gabrielle had put Leo in charge of selling tickets, and he stood beside the wagon emblazoned with the circus name and collected money and handed out tickets.
The circus-goers were mainly families: mother, father and children. They looked like shopkeepers from the city and local farmers—solid, middle-class folk, the sort that Leo scarcely ever noticed so far were they below his own high head.
It was almost show time when Leo sold a ticket to an army lieutenant. He got a little shock when he saw the uniform but kept his face expressionless. “Come to enjoy some fun, Lieutenant?”
“I have come to see your circus,” the lieutenant said. He looked closely at Leo. “You have an accent, monsieur. Are you English?”
Damn, Leo thought. I should have kept my mouth shut. “My wife’s family owns this circus,” he said, as genially as he could.
The lieutenant nodded, took his ticket and moved toward the tent.
There’s nothing to worry about, Leo told himself. The man has just come to see a circus.
He waited at the wagon until he heard the band strike up and then he locked the ticket money in the wagon and moved toward the tent. He went around to the performer’s entrance and outside he found Gabrielle with her five white Arabians. Their flowing manes were brushed and they wore a golden plume on their heads. They wore no other equipment and each was being held by a rope looped loosely around his neck. Gabrielle herself was dressed in male hunting attire: red coat, breeches and high boots. Her hair was pulled high on the back of her head and swung between her shoulders in a shining fall. She was not carrying a whip.
“Go and sit with the band,” she said to him. He hesitated a moment, decided to wait until after the show to tell her about the lieutenant, and went into the tent. As he entered, Gerard, who was also dressed in hunting attire, announced to the audience, “Mademoiselle Gabrielle Robichon and her Liberty Horses!”
The band started a gay tune and the horses trotted through the door, followed by Gabrielle, who went immediately to the middle of the ring. The horses began to trot energetically around the ring, their tails flying high in true Arabian fashion.
The demonstration that followed had Leo as fascinated as the rest of the audience. Without a hand touching them, without a voice telling them, without even a noticeable signal from Gabrielle, the horses went around the ring, wheeling, turning, reversing and circling in perfect unison. They reared in unison, and went down on their knees at exactly the same time. At one point, Gabrielle put numbers on their backs, mixed them up in the ring, and they all found their exact places in order as they went back to circling the ring.
Toward the end of the performance, Leo began to watch Gabrielle closely. She was cueing them, he realized, but the motions were so minuscule as to be scarcely noticeable: a slight step forward, a step backward or sideways, the slight lift of a hand—all scarcely visible to the audience but obviously visible to the horses.
Leo was deeply impressed. He thought of some of the horses he had known, and their lack of obedience, and was even more impressed. And these were hot-blooded Arabian horses, not slugs.
As the horses trotted out of the arena, the audience applauded enthusiastically. Gabrielle bowed once to her left, once in front and once to her right, then exited after her horses. She passed Leo with a serious face and didn’t acknowledge his presence.
Leo studied the faces in the crowd, looking for the lieutenant. Benches had been set up on three sides of the circus ring by laying planks over wooden trestles, and behind the benches people were standing. While Paul Gronow gave a dazzling display of juggling with plates and knives, Leo searched the audience. The juggling act was almost over when he finally located the lieutenant standing on the right side of the ring. He appeared to be watching Paul with interest.
The next act was the Maroni brothers’ tumbling. They started off by somersaulting off a springboard and landing on a big mattress in the middle of the ring. Following this act, Coco was brought in and they somersaulted over his back. Then three of the Arabians were brought in and they somersaulted over the three horses’ backs. After that, the last two Arabians were brought in and Gianni somersaulted over the six horses’ backs. Then the horses were led out, the mattress brought closer, and each of the brothers followed each other in rapid succession from the springboard, throwing special twists and variations to a lively galloping tune from the band.
Next, a very tall man with an impassive face walked into the ring. He was wearing evening clothes with an elegant high hat. Sully, dressed as a rustic booby with a red wig and a ruddy face, came in also and spoke to the tall man, but the man didn’t answer. After a few minutes of this, Sully, in irritation, knocked his hat off. To the delight of the audience, his head came off, too. The ringmaster brought out a coffin and Sully tried to stuff the headless corpse into it. After a few minutes of Sully’s comical endeavors, the headless corpse got up and ran out of the ring.
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Joan Wolf
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современная зарубежная литература
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: January 1813–the British army is preparing to cross the Pyrenees and advance against Napoleon′s army. Only one thing stands in the way–funds. It will take two people masquerading as lovers to carry out a dangerous plan…Despite inheriting the traveling Cirque Equestre–France′s proudest equestrian tradition–Gabrielle Rochon has no loyalty to the emperor who destroyed her family′s way of life. Independent and headstrong, she pledges to help the British army, knowing her late father would have done the same. But her mission to smuggle gold across France within the cirque to the Duke of Wellington′s headquarters in Spain is one the British won′t let her do alone.Colonel Leo Branford–an arrogant, striking foreigner–is ordered to play the part of her husband so that he may escort the gold without arousing enemy suspicions.While Gabrielle is annoyed that she must publicly bow to his every whim, the danger of the mission binds them in a disturbingly intimate way. With French troops precariously close to uncovering their charade, it is imperative that neither of them forget their purpose…or themselves.