He rose from my usual table when I entered, then stood silently until I took a seat. Beaumont brought me coffee and plunked down a plate of meat and bread, plus another coffee for Fernand.
“Please, eat.” Fernand waved at my food. “There is no reason to speak of business when one can enjoy a meal.”
While I approved of this philosophy, it was a bit unnerving to consume my breakfast while Fernand sipped coffee and watched me.
Even so, I decided to take my time over the excellent sausages and fresh bread, savoring the simple but delicious fare. I wondered if I could prevail upon Donata’s already excellent cook to find food like this in London.
Once I’d finished and drained a second cup of coffee, Fernand stood. “Will you walk with me, Captain?”
“Of course.” I dabbed my mouth on my handkerchief, as Beaumont did not supply linens, and drew out coin to leave for my meal.
Fernand stopped me, explaining he’d already paid for it. I gave him my thanks and the inhabitants of the shop a nod of farewell, and followed Fernand out.
Not surprisingly, he led me to the wide space of the plaza. A market thrived there that morning, vendors peddling bright summer strawberries and other fruits, deep green vegetables, pastries glistening with sugar, piles of meat, and strings of sausages, both fresh and dried. They shouted their bargains, and wives and servants argued with them over prices.
Fernand led me past all this to a relatively calm space in the middle of the square. His belligerence had lessened significantly, and he appeared more sad than angry.
“Captain, I owe you an apology,” he began, keeping to English. “I have treated you abominably. We thought?—”
“No need to explain,” I said quickly. “It is understandable. I arrived to poke up something that should have been left in the past. I am certain that you feared the worst.”
“We did.” Fernand drew a breath. “I did not trust you, Lacey. Emile did, but the lad can be naive.”
“Do not be too hard on him,” I said with sudden fondness for my new son-in-law. “There is nothing wrong with seeing the good in people. I am happy my daughter found such a gentle and honest man to be her husband.”
Fernand sent me a wry glance. “Perhaps Emile is a little too honest. By the bye, it was not he who convinced me I should come and speak to you today, but your daughter. Gabriella explained to me what an honorable man you were and how she’d come to trust you with her life—which you indeed saved on one occasion. It seems you are prone to such things.”
I shrugged, discomfited. “Perhaps I am determined for others to have a fair chance.”
“If you like. She also assured me that for any secrets the family has, you are not the one who will betray them.”
“That depends.” I kept my voice mild. “If any harm comes to Gabriella, or even appears to come to Gabriella, you can be certain that I will act against the person who threatens her. Not with knowledge of past misdeeds, but with a more savage solution. I’m certain you understand that. You feel the same about your own family.”
“I do,” Fernand acknowledged. “Believe me, Lacey, Gabriella has nothing to fear from us. We will protect her as fiercely as you would yourself. Auberge is the same.”
“He is.” I could not deny that Auberge had kept Gabriella safe all the years she’d spent apart from me. “Will you at least satisfy my curiosity about Potier? I have heard the true tale of his death from the comtesse, but she claims she knows nothing of what happened after you took him away. Perhaps it was wiser of her to close her eyes at that point.”
“Indeed, she told us of your conversation, and it is true we never spoke of it after that day. As you no doubt have guessed, the furnaces in our foundry burn hot. We destroyed every piece of the man and all we found on him. The ashes were fed to the river. Emile’s father said prayers for him, and he has lit a candle for Potier at the village church ever since. I have told Auguste such things are a waste of time on so a vile person, but Emile inherited his honesty and compassion directly from his father.” Fernand shook his head as he finished.
“Your faith teaches you that the Lord saves sinners,” I said.
“It also teaches that those who do great evil are damned. I certainly do not want to meet Potier in heaven, if I, indeed, am admitted.” Fernand shrugged. “I might have to drink with him in hell, instead.”
“You acted to aid a woman of great valor, who saved many more from death. I’m certain there will be forgiveness for that.”
“Perhaps.” Fernand did not sound convinced. “We try not to dwell on the past, which is why you frightened us, Lacey. The past was so very ugly. But our city and our family has survived much and will continue to do so.”
“I have no doubt.” I clapped Fernand on the shoulder. “I am grateful that my daughter is in good hands. I wanted to be certain, you see.”
“I do not blame you.” Fernand stepped away but clasped my hand strongly, much as Moreau had. “We will look after her, I promise you. She will be the happiest woman in France.”
“See that she is.”
I firmed my handshake, and Fernand winced before flashing me his rare smile.
“When next I journey to England on the ironworks’ business, may I call on you?” he asked when I released him.
“I would be offended if you did not,” I answered with sincerity. “We will be honored to receive you. Brewster will point us to the best alehouse in London, and we will toast each other until we can no longer stand.”
