Guillaume and Monsieur Christoff laughed.
“Mademoiselle Renault is popular,” Guillaume added, looking at her warmly. “That’s why I recommended her.”
Serena couldn’t help wishing her friend had kept his admiration to himself, although her grandparents would probably look favorably on the new arrangement.
The emperor gave her another smile before releasing her hand and turning to the others.
“I am most appreciative. Let’s have some wine, shall we?”
Serena wanted to get out of the palace and talk to Pépère and Mémère, but one hardly declined an invitation from Bonaparte, who with an apologetic shrug added, “This is not Renault wine, I’m sorry to say.”
Monsieur Christoff’s face turned florid. “I assure you, Your Majesty, the wine from the Cerise family’s vineyard will not disappoint.”
Serena knew it to be good wine, although not as good as her family’s. As she had already left her bottles with the wine manager in the lower level, Cerise wine would have to do.
Moreover, as a palace servant was summoned and offered her a glass of the ruby liquid, she decided she would have to praise it. Given the circumstances and the sudden alliance in which she’d been unwillingly drafted — and the very real possibility of being under Monsieur Christoff’s scrutiny — she would do well to remain on a friendly basis with him.
Although no one had brought it up in her presence, surely he’d told Bonaparte about Monsieur Branley approaching him on behalf of the British, or of the royalists, or both, first at the café and then in the wine market. Yet it was clear the emperor’s intent was that none of them would be told too much, either to keep them all safe or keep them all powerless.
As for Guillaume, beaming at her as if she were his protégé, Serena would have to be careful around him, as well. From what Felicity said, he had a romantic interest in her. And a rebuked man could be a dangerous one at any time.
Thus, she smiled back. The conversation turned to Bonaparte’s bold plans. He wished to return the French flag from royalist white to the familiar tricolor, which had begun to happen even as he’d marched toward Paris, and he intended to abolish the hated slave trade through the Senate, if they were willing. Serena could find no fault with either aspiration. Indeed, she felt no antipathy toward the dynamic ruler.
If only he hadn’t plunged her grandparents’ country into so many years of war.
When an officer came in a few minutes later, wishing to speak privately with the emperor, Serena was relieved to curtsy and leave his presence. Unfortunately, she was escorted out by Guillaume and Monsieur Christoff.
“We are going to the Café Montansier. Will you come?” Guillaume asked her. “Felicity will be there soon, and Jean-Paul and Suzanne.”
“No, I have been kept longer than expected.” She didn’t mean to sound censorious.
“It is an honor to be personally asked by the emperor,” Guillaume chastised her, his tone annoyingly superior. “That is, unless you don’t believe in the cause of a true republic.”
“France hasn’t been called a republic for six years,” she reminded him. “It’s an empire, if you recall. A very different thing. But I’m not quibbling with you. It is only that I must get back to my grandparents. They worry when I don’t turn up as expected.”
“Perhaps you can meet us later.” This from Monsieur Christoff. “I had forgotten, but you were at the Aveugles when that idiot Englishman tried to recruit me to the side of the Bourbons.” He ended by spitting on the street. “Pah!They can go to hell and their useless king with them. Can you believe they thought I was going to assist them?”
“Hush,” Guillaume cautioned. “Better to be discreet, my friend.”
At that moment, Serena decided she would go to the café that night after all. Housed in a former theatre, the Café Montansier had become the gathering place for those who supported the emperor. They sang songs in his honor, and were already handing out bouquets of violets, as much a badge of the Bonapartists as the tricolor cockade.
Malcolm’s allies, and specifically his faction working in Paris, were depending upon the wrong people if they thought such men as thetête de noeudto be potential allies. Perhaps she could discover if any more were behaving as false friends.
And why would she help Malcolm over her friends?She hoped it wasn’t solely on account of a perfect kiss.
“I will meet you there later,” she promised, letting Guillaume kiss each of her cheeks and blocking Monsieur Christoff from doing the same before she departed.
As she walked away, she heard Guillaume’s arrogant laughter at how she’d thwarted the other man from getting close. It sent shivers up her spine. Either man could become a terrible threat if they knew her family’s true loyalties.
