Cade caught his breath, his gaze briefly going out of focus. “You could be right. I’ll take care of that now.”
“Be careful.” Frowning, Tamsyn headed to the floor above. The walls of the stairwell were in need of paint, and she guessed that there hadn’t been enough time to renovate the private quarters as well as the public rooms.
It wasn’t difficult to find the duchess’s rooms—the door was open and a footman was carrying out a trunk. Tam knocked on the open door and entered the disordered sitting room of the apartment. “Your Grace?”
The Duchess of Dorset was surveying the tangle of possessions, her face strained. She was a handsome woman in her early thirties, a number of years younger than her husband. Tam remembered her as coolly collected, but today she looked on the verge of tears.
The duchess looked up and frowned when she heard Tamsyn’s voice. “We’ve met, haven’t we?”
“Yes, Your Grace. I’m Lady Tamsyn Tremayne. We’ve had brief encounters at one or two receptions, but never a proper conversation.”
“Oh, yes, you were with your mother, Lady Tremayne.” The duchess’s expression eased. “She’s such a lovely restful woman. Are you accompanying her?”
“She is indeed lovely, but she’s home in London. I’m here with one of my brothers, Cade Tremayne.”
“You’ve picked a poor time to make a call,” the duchess said wearily. “We’re packing to leave for London, and my dratted French maid abandoned me to return to her family. I don’t know how I’m going to manage!”
Tamsyn’s greatest gift was healing emotions, so on impulse she approached and took the duchess’s right hand in both of her own. “You’ll manage,” she said quietly as she channeled warmth and relaxation into the other woman. “You will be as strong as you need to be.”
The duchess jerked in surprise when Tamsyn first touched her, then released a sigh and began to relax. “Thank you. You’re very like your mother.”
“So people tell me. It is the greatest of compliments.” Releasing the other woman’s hand, she said briskly, “I’ll help you. Where shall I start?”
“You should not be doing such menial work!” the duchess exclaimed.
“I’m rather good at packing and enjoy creating order from chaos.” Tamsyn smiled. “Of which there is no shortage!”
“Your aid would be very helpful,” the other woman admitted. She glanced around the room. “Perhaps . . . perhaps you could pack garments from that wardrobe into one of the trunks?”
“It will be my pleasure.” Tamsyn opened the wardrobe doors and surveyed shelves full of folded chemises, unmentionables, and nightwear in the finest of fabrics. As she pulled a small trunk to the wardrobe and lifted the lid, she said in a matter-of-fact voice, “I’m happy to help in any way I can, but the primary reason I’ve come to France is because my brother and I both work for the Home Office. We’ve been sent here to ensure that you and your husband and the rest of the delegation make it home safely.”
“Surely the French won’t attempt to stop us from leaving!” The other woman gasped.
“Probably not, but some of Bonaparte’s followers who hate Britain may not believe in diplomatic immunity.” Tamsyn stacked neat piles of chemises into the trunk.
The duchess bit her lip. “The sooner we leave this benighted country, the better!”
Tamsyn tucked a dozen silk stockings into a corner of the trunk. “If you’re willing to join me in packing your belongings, you’ll be that much closer to leaving, and I promise I won’t tell anyone that you undertook such a menial task.”
The duchess gave a sudden laugh. “And it will keep me busy and less likely to fret. It’s very pleasant to have the company of an English lady. Court life has been a poisonous swirl of politics. I’ve been afraid to talk to anyone.” She set a small case on her dressing table and began packing brushes and scent bottles and small mirrors.
“In a fortnight you’ll be back in London and able to breathe easily again.” Tamsyn finished packing the first trunk and looked around for another.
“I look forward to that.” The duchess snapped her toiletry case closed. “And I hope the government doesn’t have a desperate need to send my husband to another potential battleground!”
“The time for diplomacy with France has passed. Now it’s time for the generals and the admirals.” Tamsyn chuckled. “And for packing so you can get away from here!”
The duchess smiled, and they spent the next several hours working and laughing and avoiding talk of anything serious. But in the back of her mind, Tamsyn sensed that Cade was dealing with more challenging issues. She wondered what tangles he’d found.
CHAPTER3
The trip from Cornwall to Paris had been swift and tiring; the day spent at the embassy was demanding in a different way as Cade talked to staff and guards and investigated the surroundings. It was dark now and he’d done as much as he could for the day. Now it was time to find Tamsyn to discuss what they’d learned and perhaps raid the kitchen for a late supper. But first he needed to find his assigned quarters.
The young aide who guided him up to the top floor said apologetically, “I’m sorry there is no better room available, sir, but the embassy is full to bursting because no one wants to stay outside the compound with Paris in such a disturbed state.”
“I understand. It’s not for long, and I guarantee that I’ve stayed in worse quarters.” In barns and bushes when nothing better was available. He hoped they’d found a more suitable room for Tamsyn.
“Here you are, sir.” The aide indicated a door with a sliver of light underneath. “Sleep well.”
