Her grandparents!
“Papa! Maman!” her mother cried, racing down the stairs and beginning a quick-paced flurry of French. She’d turned from an elegant baroness into an excited daughter in seconds.
“I’m so happy to see you. Why are you here? It doesn’t matter. I’m thrilled. But are you both well? Is everything fine? What about the winery? How is Paris?” Hélène was encircled by her parents’ arms, held in a tight embrace.
Will and Frances, who must have met their grandparents’ carriage were also speaking French, circling the group of three like young lions.
Baron Elmstead entered the front hall, too. Seeing her father standing to the side watching his wife’s happiness, Serena joined him while her grandparents both speaking at once answered all their daughter’s questions.
“Do you wish me to translate, Father?”
“Don’t be cheeky,” Edward Elmstead said, but he smiled at her. “I can understand most of it. I take it Napoleon has been vanquished again. Hopefully for good this time.”
“Where is Waterloo?” Serena asked, overhearing news of the final battle.
“In Belgium, about ten miles south of Brussels. I suppose it will be famous forever,” her father mused. “Hélène,” he called to his wife over the noise, “invite your parents into the drawing room, unless they want to go upstairs and change or rest first.”
Serena knew better than to think her grandparents would want to rest. With a parent on either arm, her mother escorted them into the blue drawing room, her sons following.
“Bring coffee and some sort of biscuits or cake,” Lord Elmstead said to their butler standing by. “And if we’re not out of there in an hour, bring brandy.”
“Yes, my lord.” Mr. Tewles strode off to the back of the house. Then her father took her by the arm, and they trailed in behind the Renault side of the family.
“It sounds as if they’re here for an extended visit,” Serena said. “Isn’t this fun?”
“Mm,”her father answered noncommittally.
There had always been a little coolness between him and his wife’s parents. Since that heartfelt discussion with her grand-mère, Serena thought she knew why. Her father had swept into Paris as a dashing officer, stolen a young woman’s heart, and whisked her off to faraway England. Of course, her grandparents had taken the loss of their only child to another country quite hard.
As Serena entered the drawing room, her grand-mère held out her arms.“Ma chère fille,you look well.”
She kissed Mémère’s cheeks and had just put her arm around her when she suddenly heard Malcolm’s name fall from her grand-père’s lips.
“Monsieur Branley accompanied us over La Manche — the Channel, as you call it — and made sure we weren’t detained in Portsmouth.”
“Branley?” Serena’s father repeated.
“Malcolm Branley,” her grand-père said. “A viscount’s son.”
“Lord Branley!” her father said. “I don’t know him personally, but I know of him. Not an officer, but firmly in service to the Prince Regent and Prime Minister Jenkinson. Also not surprising he would be in France at such a time.”
“Your daughter knows him,” Serena’s grand-mère said, and suddenly, all eyes turned to her.
“I ... I, that is,” she began.What was wrong with her?It wasn’t as if they all knew she’d given herself to him, both heart and body. “I ran into him in Paris. Actually, he ran into me,” she babbled. “Literally, sent me onto the pavement. And then we met a few other times.”
“But the ball,” Mémère reminded her. “And then the Louvre.”
Serena sighed. “Lord Branley and I went to a celebratory ball after the emperor—”
“No longer,” her grand-père declared.
“After Bonaparte returned,” Serena continued. “We danced at the Jardin du Luxembourg.” She hoped her cheeks didn’t pinken, but she couldn’t help thinking of the Medici Fountain and the darkened grotto. “Then there was a masquerade at the Louvre,” she added.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” her mother asked. “I so love both the gardens and the museum.”
Serena merely shrugged, hoping her grand-mère wouldn’t mention how she’d been being dragged off to the Tuileries, nor her—
“Then there was her grand escape,” her grand-père said cheerfully. “Your daughter was extraordinarily brave, don’t you think?”
