She and her husband were side by side on the small sofa, sharing morning coffee. He was well enough to walk a few steps, though still weak. Simon thought how much better he looked than when they’d found him at the ruined château.
Philippe’s brows arched as he regarded his visitors. “Have you come to throw us out of the house now that we’re better?”
“Nonsense!” Suzanne said briskly. “We’re here to discuss a matter of business.”
Marie rose. “I’ll leave so you’ll have your privacy.”
“No need,” Simon said. “Stay, this affects you also.”
Philippe frowned. “Now I am getting worried.” Marie took his hand nervously.
“It’s nothing dire. I’ve found the name and address of your father’snotaire, Monsieur Morel. He’s still practicing in Saint-Denis, so Suzanne and I decided to visit him in person to discover the state of the Chambron legal affairs. My guess is that even if he has a copy of the will, there won’t be any money, but it won’t hurt to ask.”
“I also want to find out if there is anything left of my dowry,” Suzanne added. “I’m not optimistic, but I’d like to know.”
“Would you be willing to give me a power of attorney so I can act on your behalf?” Simon asked. “You could specify how you would like any monies to be handled, if there are any.”
Philippe frowned, but Marie said mildly, “Don’t be so suspicious,mon chéri. If we hadn’t trusted Simon and Suzanne, we’d be dead by now. I for one will be glad to know where we stand.”
At her words, Philippe said reluctantly, “Very well, I’ll give you a power of attorney, but do you think it’s safe to travel into France with conditions so uncertain?”
Suzanne smiled. “Simon and I have had this discussion. There is no reason to worry overmuch. If an army starts marching toward us, we’ll simply move out of the way. Quickly!”
They all laughed together, and Philippe called for pen, paper, and a lap desk so he could write the power of attorney. When he was finished, he handed it to Simon but said to Suzanne, “I would like a word with you in private, Suzanne. Marie, would you mind leaving with Simon?”
His wife looked surprised, but she obediently led the way out of the room with Simon behind her. After the door closed, Philippe turned an intense gaze on Suzanne. “Will you tell me how my father died?”
She took the chair opposite him, sensing his craving to know more of his father. “I think that you know we were sailing to Naples. Jean-Louis knew a number of the people at the Court of Naples, and he also thought it wise to be out of France.”
Suzanne hadn’t been sure she’d like Naples, but she’d obediently gone along with her husband’s plans. She was always obedient in those days.
“A storm pushed us farther south than usual, and I’m told the corsair ship was farther north than such vessels usually venture. The corsairs attacked at dawn and caught our crew unaware. All was chaos and confusion.” She drew a deep breath as she remembered the shots and screams and flames. The bodies . . . “The pirates swarmed over the main deck, cutting down all who opposed them.”
“Battle is always chaos,” Philippe said grimly. “What happened to my father?”
She considered how much to say. There was no reason to tell him that the father he idolized was a craven coward. “Jean-Louis was not the man to grovel before pirates.” She looked down, not wanting Philippe to read anything in her eyes. “It was . . . very quick. I don’t think he knew what hit him. He and the others who would not submit were buried at sea. Everyone else, including me, was taken prisoner and enslaved.”
“I’m glad to know he went down fighting, as a Duval should.” Philippe swallowed hard, then bluntly asked an even more difficult question. “Do you think I am a bastard? I was always told that my parents fell passionately in love and married very soon after, but now that I am grown, I wonder if my father really would have wed a woman of much lower station, no matter how beautiful or how much he loved her.”
“I’m sorry, Philippe,” she said gently. “I simply do not know. I was in the nursery when your parents met.” She hesitated, picking her words carefully. “The man in his thirties whom I married was unlikely to have wed a girl of modest birth, but as an enraptured youth, he might have done so.”
“If I was legitimate, wouldn’t he have taken me to be raised in his own home?” Philippe’s words were a plaintive cry.
“Not necessarily. Since your mother was of modest birth, he might not have wanted you exposed to the sneers of the aristocratic circles he preferred. Or perhaps you are illegitimate, but you were his only son and he cared for you. We may learn something from thenotairethat will be illuminating. Simon and I will always be honest with you, you know.” Honest, and kind when possible.
“I almost wish you weren’t,” he said, looking very tired again. “But thank you for answering my questions. Have a safe journey.” He closed his eyes, exhausted once more.
She rose and left the room quietly. It would be a great disappointment if Monsieur Morel was able to tell them nothing useful.
* * *
The next morning, Simon and Suzanne set off for Paris, the passionate and perilous heart of France.
Chapter 29
The trip through northern France to Saint-Denis was blessedly free of incident. They took the main Brussels-to-Paris road, which was busy with more soldiers than one would see in peaceful times. Suzanne was glad that no one paid any particular attention to them.
Apart from the journey to Château Chambron, Suzanne had done no traveling in Europe since she was captured and enslaved. She wasn’t surprised to learn that Simon was a practiced traveler who knew how to manage everything from deeply rutted roads to changing horses to ferry crossings.
