Mon chéri Simon, the city grows busier and more excited, waiting, waiting, waiting! Here we are at the end of the first week of June. The days since I’ve seen you seem so long, though it hasn’t really been that many. Yet it seems like forever!
You will find this amusing: I have become involved in charitable work helping out camp followers. The other ladies are impressed at how unshockable I am. Of course they know nothing of my past, and I prefer to keep it that way.
But the work is needful, as you like to say. Many of these women have been following their men for years. They act as nurses and laundresses as well as sharing beds. Some women have lost several husbands to death over the years, but because few women follow the army, those who do are always in demand and can have a new man as soon as they are ready. One woman said she accepted an offer from a corporal as she was burying one husband, but if she’d waited to get back to the camp, she could have had a sergeant!
Too often, these women and their children need food, clothing, medical care. Madeline and Marie and other ladies like us do our best to help. Marie tires very easily now and I’m somewhat worried about her, but I imagine being tired is natural this close to her time.
I so wish you were here, my Simon! You are in my mind, heart, and soul, but selfish creature that I am, I want you in my arms. Take care, beloved. You must come back to me. No other outcome is acceptable.
Always, your Suzanne
Somewhere in France
For the last two nights, milady, I’ve not been able to think of you as much as I wished because I have been on the run, being pursued by a French patrol. They have become suspicious of me. Me, a loyal, innocent, and harmless son of France! I’d be quite outraged if I wasn’t in truth a spy.
I’m glad this isn’t a proper letter so you will never know the full truth of what has happened. You’d find it upsetting. To be honest, I have found it upsetting.
Simon paused over his notebook, thinking of what had happened and wondering how much to tell Suzanne. Even in his midnight thoughts, he didn’t want to tell her the whole story because she would be horrified.
After the long pursuit, he and Achille had both been close to collapse as he tried to get back to Belgium. Because they weren’t far from Château Chambron, as a desperate last resort he directed his mount to the old château in the hope that he could find a place to hide in the ruins.
When he pulled up in front of the wing that was still standing, his dismount from Achille was perilously close to a fall. He was stiff and aching all over from too many hours in the saddle, and he clung to the stirrup to keep his balance while he waited for his body to start working again.
“Simon!” The shout echoed over the ruined gardens in front of the château.
Simon grabbed for his pistol and swung around before he even wondered who would know his name. It was Philippe emerging from the door of the wing that was still standing. Uncertainly Simon lowered the pistol. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be plowing and planting or whatever a farmer does at this season?”
“I took a few hours off to do some searching in the ruins.” Philippe surveyed him. “What areyoudoing here, looking like a corpse walking?”
“I’m being pursued by a French patrol. If you listen, you can hear the hooves of their horses.” Simon paused and could hear just that. The soldiers were very near. “I came here hoping to find a place to hide.” He regarded his cousin, who had served in the emperor’s army, and wondered if Philippe would turn him in.
Philippe frowned for a long moment, as if considering whether to help or hand him over to the soldiers. Then he snapped, “Quickly now, come inside. You have little time.”
He grabbed Simon’s arm with one hand and Achille’s reins with the other and half dragged them both inside. The horse’s hooves rang on the old marble floor. “Go up the stairs and turn right. I’ll show you where to hide after I take your horse to one of the rooms in back.”
“Must have . . . my saddlebags,” Simon panted. Swiftly Philippe unfastened the saddlebags and yanked them off the horse, dropping them on the floor. “I’ll bring them upstairs after I hide your horse.”
Simon lurched to the stairs and hauled himself up along the railing, which was unsteady but didn’t fall apart under his weight. Achille clopped dutifully into a passageway that ran to the rear of the house. Simon hoped to God that the animal’s weight wouldn’t cause a floor collapse.
As instructed, he turned right. Philippe caught up with him quickly, the saddlebags slung over one arm. “The room over the entrance has a hidden closet with a listening hole to the receiving room below. Our ancestors were suspicious, cousin. You can hear what is said by the French soldiers when they get here. I’ll try to convince them that no one has come by. If they decide to search the place and find you, I’ll have to pretend I didn’t know you were here.”
“Of course. Don’t want to endanger you.”
Philippe helped him into the hidden closet. The floor was cluttered with rubble but Simon didn’t care. He folded himself down against the wall by the corner that had the listening hole. “If they drag me out and shoot me in front of the house, thank you for trying to help, Philippe.”
“A wise man once told me family is family. Now I need to find my old cane so I look convincingly crippled.” With a last swift smile, Philippe shut the closet door.
Simon closed his eyes and prayed that he would survive to see Suzanne again. The hoofbeats neared, then stopped, all too close.
A moment later, the heavy old door knocker was bashed into the door half a dozen times. Then the distinctive tap of the cane as Philippe hobbled to the door and opened it.
A soldierly voice said, “We’ve been chasing a damned English spy. Did you see a man on a horse gallop by?”
“No, I’ve neither seen nor heard anyone.”
Another, older voice said with surprise, “Captain Duval! I haven’t seen you since our forces were disbanded and we were sent home. Is this ruined palace your home?”
Philippe chuckled. “How good to see you alive and well, Captain Weiss! I live nearby in an honest, comfortable farmhouse. This château was once owned by an aristo.” He spat. “Now long gone, God be thanked! I am trying to recover from old wounds, so I decided to practice my walking by coming over here. A very grand place it was once, though peasants like me were never welcome inside. I was curious to see if anything interesting remained in the ruins, but if so, someone else got here first.”
