Chapter Seven: An Invitation

The home of Françoise Desloges was a small row house in Eslettes about 4 miles north of the river. Even in the drizzle and overcast skies, Emily enjoyed the cab ride, as she got to see more of the older side of Rouen. Known for a plethora of churches, she noticed spire after spire and at one o'clock was treated to a chorus of bells from all directions ringing out the time.

Françoise seemed a little shy, but Emily patiently worked with her to learn the features of the machine. As they began, Françoise drew on a pair of eye glasses and sat with hands folded in her lap like a schoolgirl. Emily estimated her age at around thirty; she dressed modestly in a simple house dress with her brown hair pulled back in a chignon. A light layer of lipstick adding color to her lips. Françoise had a delightful set of dimples. Behind her glasses long dark lashes framed her hazel eyes.

After they had done some practice with the typing, Emily asked why she had bough one of the machines. "Actually, I am working on a novel," Francoise told her. "I have had three stories published. That is one of the reasons I saved up and ordered the typewriter; my novel has turned into a much larger project than I had anticipated." She rubbed the wrist of her right hand. "Using the pen for so long cramps my hand, so I give up until I can get the muscles to relax."

Emily offered her services as a proofreader to Françoise, and told her not to hesitate if she had any other questions.

Calling a cab, Emily checked the time and noted that it was about four-thirty. Not to late in the afternoon, but she wondered if Monsieur De La Shaumette had forwarded her note or if he expected her to return to the house and fetch it. Still a little full from lunch, Emily though she would check for the note and then go for a cup of tea.

Arriving at the hotel, she was greeted by the same young man who had been perched outside her room in the morning. This time he handed her a note and a small white box tied with a little golden bow. Noting the "DLS" embossed seal on the envelope; she unlocked her door and sat on the bed to read the note:

Dearest Madame,

I regret that our timing this afternoon left us

at cross purpose, as I was prepared to deliver your

invitation to an event to be staged on Sunday afternoon.

Speaking with my staff, I have decided to meet again this

evening at my home at seven o'clock and require your

presence as we have some news about the unfortunate

occurrence that affected your travel earlier this week.

I would wish to impress upon you the importance that

we examine these findings as they will have

impact upon my decision to work with Remington.

Accompanying this message is a small token which

we offer for your approval.

My Deepest Regards,

DLS

Emily untied the bow and opened the box, peeking inside her jaw dropped. Nestled inside tiny paper cups were small chocolates. "Clever man," she breathed. She popped one of the confections in her mouth and found it was an almond covered in nougat and chocolate. Savoring the candy with closed eyes, she finally swallowed. Maybe he was a sorcerer, how else could he have known that chocolate was one of her weaknesses?

Sorcerer indeed, could she sit their quietly discussing business after the events of last night? Despite her years of working with people, Emily was getting nervous. How they handled business together was one thing, how she could expose herself to that penetrating gaze and not get flustered or embarrassed was something else entirely.


Realizing he had to be ready for Emily's visit, Erik had requested that dinner be moved up by half and hour. Agnes met this challenge cheerfully, producing a salad and a main course of thinly sliced fillets of chicken in a Roquefort sauce with sautéed potatoes and green beans.

After all those years living on his own, his one indulgence to sweets was usually chocolate. Having sent one of the boxes to Emily this afternoon, he wondered at how she had received it. His hope was that it would smooth over any remaining feelings she had from the previous night in the alley.

His dinner finished, he quickly climbed the stairs and went to his water closet. Cleaning his teeth, he took a moment to check his reflection in the mirror. Heaven forefend he should be found with crumbs on his jacket. He stepped back and wondered if he should divest himself of his suit coat and cravat for something less formal. Checking his pocket watch, he had little time to change and decided against it as Emily was usually punctual.

He went to the study and his chair by the fireplace. Sitting down to wait he heard Javier arriving downstairs. The clock showed it was six-forty. A short interval later, he heard Philippe's voice downstairs as well. He glanced at the clock; the hands now displayed six-forty-three. Crossing one knee over the other leg, he sat back in the chair and looked about the room. Fingers drumming on the table beside him, he glanced again at the clock; it displayed six forty-eight.

Pursing his lips he noticed his fingers were tapping harder on the surface of the table. Glancing again at the clock, it was now six fifty-one. He arose from the chair and went to stand near the fireplace. He turned and walked to his desk, turning back, the mantel clock said it was six fifty-five.

He stood with brows lowered. She was not going to come. He cursed himself and twice damned Phillipe and Javier, his accomplices in the chocolate plot. He should have written her a note in sterner language demanding her attendance. He stalked over to the fireplace, composing in his mind the next message he would send to the woman, when he heard another knock at the door.

He stood listening to Etienne greeting Emily. He let out the breath he had not realized he was holding. Shaking his head, he credited his nervousness to having to deal with the female of the species. He wondered if other men felt like this around women, or if this was just a special circle of hell reserved for him alone.

Finally a knock upon the door sounded, Erik instructed them to enter. Etienne stepped into the room, holding open the door for Javier, Phillipe and Emily who filed in with polite nods to Erik.

Emily walked in with her hands clasped before her. It was customary for a woman to follow gentlemen up the stairs, and so she brought up the rear feeling like the last little duck in a line of its siblings. Flames happily licking at the coal in the fireplace cast a golden glow behind De La Shaumette as he waited for them to enter the room. As they filed in, he brought up a hand smoothly in a gesture that indicated they would retire to the chairs around the desk once again.

Emily turned towards one of the chairs, and was surprised to hear his resonant voice behind her, "Madame is …wet?" She turned towards the voice and found him moving silently towards her. Despite the warmth of the room, she shivered.

Erik noticed her hair, wet strands clinging together, and a smattering of what looked to be wet spots on her shoulders.

"Yes, Monsieur." She paused with her head tilted to one side. "It started pouring rain as I left the hotel." Emily wondered how he could not have noticed the rain as it drummed on the front of the house.

"Come, you must sit by the fire." He indicated his reading chair. "You will catch your death…" He remembered his dream. Christine had been so adamant to warn him of danger to Emily, the vision of her pale broken body lying on the deck like a doll carelessly dropped and forgotten. He stepped backwards to allow her to pass in front of him. Following a step behind, he stopped next to the chair and turned up the gas light for a little more illumination for her. Thinking she must be chilled, he asked, "Would you care for a Brandy?"

"I'll get the bottle," Javier ventured. He left the study before Erik or Emily could respond. Erik moved half way between the sofa and the chair, seeming to hover undecided until he saw Javier enter with a bottle and four glasses. Setting them down, Javier poured out the liquor and Phillipe presented two of the glasses to Erik and Emily.

Emily took hers and waited a moment for everyone to have their glasses. Javier raised his saying, "Salud," to which Phillipe replied "Santé". Emily raised hers to the room in general. "To angels rescued from the fall." Erik had raised his glass as well, nodded in agreement, and they all took their first drink together. As he lowered his glass, he wondered how many times Emily Griggs was going to continue to surprise him.

With Javier and Phillipe on the couch, Erik was left to sit on the piano bench. He gave them a minute to allow Emily the chance to take another sip of her Brandy. He wondered if she still was cold, as she seemed to be shivering.

Emily took another sip and hoped her hand wasn't shaking enough to give away her nervousness. On the way over she had thought about what had happened last night in the street, Javier obviously knew something of this kind of activity, she wondered if Phillipe did. She also wondered about the box of chocolates. Was that an amends for a man unaccustomed to making apologies? Was she expected to say thank you? Emily hoped fervently that Monsieur De La Shaumette had an agenda worked out for this evening.

"I should like to begin Madame on the more pleasant topic that we must cover this evening. You have received an invitation from the Mayor to return to the village of Jumieges on Sunday afternoon for a celebration." Erik watched as surprise registered on Emily's face. She seemed undecided as to what to reply. "In April and the town spends the afternoon cleaning up their public square and planting flowers and such. They make a celebration of it and have invited you as their Guest of Honor."

"Followed by much eating and drinking in the evening," Javier put in.

Emily ruminated on the publicity the Remington would enjoy if this made the papers. "I suppose that would be alright," she conceded.

"I can have M. Dugast cover the arrangements for your travel to and from this affair." Erik noticed her face wore that small smile he had seen before. He heard his own voice asking, "Why are you smiling?"

"Just thinking. My first French party and they invite me to dig up weeds." Her smile grew even brighter.

Erik wondered how it was that she smiled like a woman who knows a secret. It teased him with its mystery, it piqued his interest with its implications, it promised things deep and sensual. One could spend many an hour unraveling that smile.

"It is within proper etiquette to provide you with an escort for the trip. Javier and Phillipe are putting themselves at your disposal for the day. And that leads me to our second topic." Erik arose and went to the desk, putting his glass down. He walked slowly back to the bench and sat down. "After the incident at Jumieges with the boat, I sent Javier to take a crew back and investigate the damage. Although it appears to have happened because of some careless cargo loading, we do not believe that is the case." He paused to let Emily ponder this a moment. "Since the importation of the machines is something new, it might be that one of my competitors has arranged this accident."

Emily felt the pull of his words, his voice rich and persuasive. His eyes never left hers; she felt there was a lot more that he had not told her yet. He sat forward, holding her eyes with his. "Madame, whether it was intended or not, the boat could have gone down with you on board."

He had to give her credit; she did not react overtly to this fact. Her gaze shifted to a point over his shoulder, and her eyes focused on some other time, some other place. She looked back at him. "I understand."

"We could be wrong," he continued, rising from the bench. "But I wish to err on the side of caution. We will investigate the possibility that someone targeted the boat and typewriters. As you have been invited back to the town, I feel it imperative to send both Phillipe and Javier with you. Phillipe has been busy tracing back your travel documents to see who would have access to them. An unwitting accomplice might have passed on dates and times of the boats' travel and as such given enough information for a person to arrange for your unfortunate trip."

"Is that taking into consideration that I was an Emily rather than the expected Emile Griggs?"

"It is my sincere hope that your part in this was only an error in their judgment, an unavoidable coincidence" he replied.

"And if it was not," she asked, glancing at Javier and Phillipe.

Erik moved closer to the fireplace, its glow setting off the fire in the eye on the unmasked side of his face. "Emily," he said fiercely. "I will not allow anyone to harm you."