Grenville himself arrived as we were arranging ourselves, with Marianne on his arm. To my surprise, Colonel Moreau also entered. A few moments after he had nodded at me and drifted toward the left side of the church, Madame Paillard glided in. She adjusted her gloves without meeting anyone’s gazes and managed to end up at Moreau’s side.
When the organist finished his prelude and started with softer strains, those attending straightened in anticipation. As I took my place behind Auberge and Gabriella, I noted, out of the corner of my eye, Denis slipping in to stand at the very back of the crowd. Brewster followed him, remaining near the church’s open doorway.
The priest of this church stepped out before the altar, clad in rich green robes and holding his book of office. Gabriella’s two half-sisters, who today were her giggling, excited bridesmaids, led the way, then Auberge and Gabriella surged forward, me behind them.
At the altar steps, Auberge released Gabriella’s hand. Emile, his face less vermillion now, reached for it.
Gabriella broke from both of them to slide past Auberge and embrace me in a crush of silk and white ribbons.
“Thank you, Father,” she whispered, and kissed my cheek.
My heart swelled as I squeezed her in return, my eyes wet when I released her.
She embraced Auberge as well, then returned to Emile, who sent her a smile of so much love that my eyes stung again.
I barely saw or comprehended the start of the ceremony, and could only stand behind Auberge, hoping I didn’t disturb anyone with my sobs.
A warm touch quieted me. Donata had come, sliding her hand through the crook of my arm. I gazed down at her and saw understanding in her eyes, as well as both the pain and happiness that she shared with me.
And so, my daughter was married. The ceremony was long, with a sermon based around the Wedding at Cana, followed by the eucharist. I was happy for Donata to tow me to one of the benches before an hour was out.
I rose again when Emile and Gabriella took their vows and then knelt before a statue of the patron saint of this village.
I watched my daughter cross herself easily, in unison with Emile, but then, she’d been raised in this church. She’d have learned by heart the gestures and responses of the Catholic faith.
I remembered Auberge telling me several years ago that when Gabriella had been a girl, she’d refused to say rosaries, because she’d wanted to worship the “English God” of her mother. Both Carlotta and Gabriella had adapted, it seemed, as Carlotta now crossed herself as well. My father would have had apoplexy, but Gabriella was far beyond his reach.
When the priest gave the final blessing, the watchers again erupted into cheers. Flower tossing and more handkerchief waving accompanied the happy bride and groom out into the summer morning.
The Devere brothers followed the pair, all of them as red-eyed and unsteady as Emile and Claude had been. Auguste, Emile’s father, nodded at me, but the others only gave me chilly stares before they marched out.
I slowly exited the church, my heart hammering with many emotions. Donata had faded from me to easily fall into conversation with Madame Paillard, who responded with equal aplomb. Marianne joined them, leaving Grenville to escort me out.
“Cheer up,” he advised. “We’ll sit through the wedding breakfast and then down plenty of brandy at your villa this afternoon.”
I agreed this would be a welcome respite at the end of a strenuous morning.
The procession wound along the road and out of the village, making for the Auberge’s farm, where the guests and couple of honor would celebrate. While the Deveres had organized the feast, Carlotta had insisted it not take place in a factory.
We were halfway along this route when Captain Vernet of the gendarmes stepped from the side of the road and halted in front of me. He wore his military uniform, but he was alone, without his sergeant or lieutenant.
“Captain Lacey,” he addressed me, without either affability or hostility. “Signora Ruggeri has disappeared, and I have information that it was you who caused this to happen.”
Chapter 27
I stared at Captain Vernet in bewilderment, barely understanding his words.
“Steady,” Grenville said to Vernet. “What do you mean by disappeared, exactly, and who is accusing him?”
“Signora Ruggeri was on her way to visit the captain,” Vernet said without tension. “Late last night, Captain Lacey bade her to meet him at the house in the Presqu’île in which she used to reside. The servants confirm she departed her villa, but the house in the city is empty, though we did find signs of a struggle there.” He fixed me with a sharp gaze.
“I have been nowhere near that house in the last few days,” I said in bewilderment.
“Question her coachman,” Grenville told Vernet. “I hear he is a protective brute. Certainly he must know where she alighted. Or has he disappeared too?”
“She did not take her coach,” Vernet said. “The housekeeper says she bundled up when she left, and wore boots, as though she meant to tramp about. The coachman was surprised to hear she had gone and is very unhappy. Both he and Comte Lejeune insisted on me arresting you.”
I finally cleared my thoughts. “Yesterday evening, I paid a visit to Comtesse Lejeune at her chateau. I was there until after dark, when I returned to my own house and remained there until this morning. Then, I departed for the village we just left, to attend my daughter’s wedding. My wife and servants will attest to that. I never summoned Signora Ruggeri, and this is the first I am learning of the matter.”
