“However, you must let events play out as they should. Too many men think they can shape history with a whisper here or a shout there. It is not for them to do. All power resides within the throne. I alone represent the people and will guide our destiny.”
“I understand,” she said, although Serena knew the emperor couldn’t control the members of the Seventh Coalition or those seeking to oust him from his throne of power. He couldn’t even control Malcolm.
Bonaparte looked at her a few seconds longer, and then he nodded.
She was being dismissed. Curtsying low, she couldn’t believe she was about to walk out of the palace, a free woman.
“Don’t think I am sending you away, mademoiselle,” the emperor added. “Not forever. As before, if you hear of anything useful, I welcome your return. Not for my sake but for France, I know you will come again. With your wine, of course. The Renault family is important to me now.”
She wished he hadn’t mentioned her family.Was it a threat?
As she turned, Bonaparte offered one more word of caution.
“After all, it would be foolish for anyone with your unusual hair color to attempt the dangerous pastime of subterfuge. Only see how easily you were picked out from a crowd.”
She smiled. “You are correct, Your Imperial Majesty.” Her grandparents had asked her to wear a bonnet that was more concealing every day when she first arrived, but she’d been too vain. Today, it could have cost her dearly.
“Good day, Your Majesty,” she said, but he’d already walked away toward his private inner chamber. And with that dismissal, two of the three thousand servants reputed to be part of his household came instantly to usher her out.
They left her when she reached the first floor, and as swiftly as they did, Malcolm appeared. The juxtaposition from the tense moments she’d recently endured to his silly disguise as a baker made her want to laugh.
He shook his head, walking past her and out the door toward her family. She followed behind. Malcolm went past her grandparents, his head down, not stopping, nor did they seem to recognize him.
And then she was being hugged.
“Mémère, Pépère,” Serena greeted them. “I’m fine.”
“Of course you are,” her grand-père said. “You are a Renault first and foremost.”
Her grand-mère nodded, took her arm, and directed her toward the waitingfiacre.
“You will tell us every word he spoke,” Adèle said, “as soon as we are home.”
Chapter Sixteen
Serena wasn’t surprisedwhen Malcolm showed up at the Halle aux Vins the next day in his disguise. Her insides fluttered as usual, although she wished it were otherwise. Of all the men to have captured her interest, Malcolm Branley was certainly not a good choice.A spy and a rake!
