Alex hesitated. “As long as we are not engaged with our objectives,” she said.
“Oh, you’ll be done with that nonsense by then. Darling,” she turned to the Marquis. “You promised we would have the ball as planned.”
“Yes,mapoupette. I will do everything in my power to be sure the ball is not interrupted,” he replied, still angling his fork. “It is my birthday,” he said with a smile, “but I believe it is more important to my wife than it is to me.”
Satisfied, Emily turned to Philippe. “And you too must come. I will not miss the opportunity to have the son of the Duke at the ball. When else will we have the chance?” She fluttered her hands as she spoke.
“I wouldn’t miss it,” he said.
The maid served bread and soon another brought a fragrant tomato bisque. Emily chatted again about old times in Chevalerie, avoiding any sensitive topics, and asked Alex question after question about being amercenary. Philippe watched and listened as he ate. Emily was right where he always expected she would land. Girls like her, flouncy and stylish and set on a title, always managed to find themselves a suitable husband. It was true she had once pursued Philippe in that way, but he knew what she was after, so he never took her seriously. And after the debacle with Alex years ago, he had backed away from Emily at a hundred miles per hour, eager to forget everything that could remind him of what he had done.
Now there the women sat, so friendly with one another. The last time he had seen them together Alex had Emily in a chokehold that could strangle a troll. They were just so different, and he couldn’t fathom the sudden friendship. Emily was formal and haughty, while Alex was quiet and unassuming. Even visually, they looked like they came from two different artists. No one would say Emily wasn’t comely, but Alex, she needed no bows or ribbons or yards of lace to shine. Whether she wore a gown or breeches, he thought, watching her lips as she spoke, Alex was a symphony.
He wondered what in the world Emily had said to her that afternoon.
He’d really thought he’d broken through to Alex the night before, when they had stood bared before each other. But today she seemed distant again. He wasn’t so dense that he didn’t realize part of his fervor came from the fact that he never had to work very hard to bed a woman. But he didn’t just want to bed her. He wanted… what did he want? His turmoil over her was so profound it was affecting this mission. Even now, as he sat with the Marquis, when he should have been focused on the task at hand, he couldn’t help imagining what it would feel like to trace the skin just above the neckline of her dress with his tongue.
Alex, came the only answer to his question. He wanted Alex.
He stifled a sigh and looked down at his soup.
After the first course, tortured as it was for Philippe, the Marquis directed the conversation back to the pressing issue. “Philippe,” he said, “I thank you for indulging my darling wife in this gossip of her hometown, but we have more important matters to discuss. Now that your guide is at your side, will you detail your plan to rid us of these problems with the raids?”
Philippe realized he had slouched down insolently into his chair. He sat up straight as he responded to the Marquis’ question, relieved for the invitation to get out of his own head. “Well, as I’ve told you, we believe these agitators to be hiding in the caves west of here. Alex has personal knowledgeof the area and we plan to use it to trap them, or at least the faction of them who are hiding. If they have discovered our intentions and they scatter, we will cut them off from their base and stall the attacks long enough to uncover their objective. Though I hope that’s not the case.”
“How will you trap them?” the Marquis asked.
“There is a third entrance,” Alex jumped in, “tucked into rocks and vegetation. There is no reason to believe they would know the third entrance. Or, if they have discovered it, they shouldn’t suspect that we also know of its existence.”
“We’ll have men stationed at each outlet,” Philippe said. “We plan to make use of your guards.”
“The caves,” the Marquis said. “I never even considered…” he trailed off. He took a slow sip of champagne and swished it in his mouth. Then he spoke to Alex, “I am embarrassed to say you know my territory in a way that I don’t.”
“There is no reason to know these caves, My Lord,” said Alex. “Unless you are hiding or running.”
“And you?” Philippe asked her impulsively. “How did you learn them so well?”
“Perhaps I was doing both,” she said, looking at him with an impish smile.
The Marquis flicked his eyes from Philippe to Alex and then back to Philippe. “And what of these men?” asked the Marquis. “What will you do once they are caught? I should like to have them to myself.”
Philippe flushed with sudden embarrassment. It was unprofessional to inquire about his guide’s experience, and the Marquis hadn’t missed it. Philippe continued back on topic, he wouldn’t let this misstep challenge his authority. “I understand,” he said to the Marquis. “But we will take them to Chevalerie for trial. My father also wishes to avenge you and the people who have suffered.”
“How does he wish to avenge me?” the Marquis responded, agitation growing in his voice. “Does he know the extent of the terrorism? Does he wish to pay the reparations to my people? It is my responsibility to support those who cannot support themselves, and I cannot do it alone. You may see finery before you,” he waved to the room at large, “but it comes froma finite amount, and I can only stretch it so far. The region is in debt. Terrible debt.”
“We do not mean to dismiss your challenges,” Philippe said, his own voice becoming terse. “But the attacks are not confined solely to your territory,” he said.
“You and I both know the majority of the damage has been done above theCanyon de Cuivreand that has traditionally fallen under my authority,jeunehomme.”
“And you, in turn, are under the authority of the Duke,” Philippe said, not missing the jab at his youth. “I assure you, your strife will not be overlooked.”
The two men eyed each other, nothing to be heard in the room.
The Marquis was the first to continue, his voice a tidal wave. “Ponce is not a city to be forgotten. We are the gateway to the North. We regulate commerce for all of Provence and, dare I say, France. The Duke has long concentrated resources in the southern part of the region and look what it has caused.” His brows were turned down and his eyes fierce. “I will not be disregarded.” He pounded his fist against the table, causing the dishes to rattle and the silverware to jump.
“Etienne,” Emily said, calling her husband by name with surprising sharpness.
The Marquis looked at her, and he drew in an audible breath.
