Chapter Seventeen: Abducted

Blaise Gaultier fixed Giles Charbonneau with a withering glare. "Giles, you fool! Why did you send her a note?"

Giles shrugged, "It does not matter now. I had hoped that De La Shaumette would be placated by it. But then you," he shook a finger at Blaise, "you jeopardized all of this in Paris! That was entirely your doing; you can't blame that on Trahan!"

"I had to follow him to Paris. He was supposed to have the money. If he hadn't been the one to panic and tear a hole in the boat Madame Griggs was on no one would have ever known."

"No Blaise." Giles shook his head. "How would you have explained to your father where the money came from when he is ready to sell the small boat, eh? Told him 'sorry father I've been smuggling on the side to afford this'. And Trahan being picked up by one of De La Shaumette's boats? Good God, Blaise. Of all the errors we have made, this is the one that will cost us. De La Shaumette will not let it go if he finds someone has been running contraband to England on one of his boats. We will go to jail."

"He won't know. How his Madame Griggs learned of your writing the note is not clear. If he knew that you were involved, wouldn't you already be in jail?" Blaise led the way through the conservatory of his family's home. "She told you she could reassure him. We will give her the time for that. Tomorrow I will have Trahan take care of Madame."

"What? Do you have some perverse wish to invite disaster upon us?" Giles exploded, looking towards the doors that connected the conservatory with the main house. "Madame Griggs found out somehow, if anything else befalls her De La Shaumette will be on guard! The man is reputed to have spies everywhere! There is nothing he cannot find out!"

Blaise sneered, "Have some backbone, Giles. If we have his Madame Griggs, he will be using his contacts to find her." Blaise reached for the door adding in a lower voice, "We need to keep her hidden until Father decides to sell the boat. You will act as the agent of the sale for our imaginary company, we will have the boat, and Phalene will have her drugs without Father's knowledge."

Still not convinced, Giles Charbonneau entered the house behind Blaise. They were doing this for Phalene. But what would befall her if anything were to happen to Emily Griggs?


Erik stepped from the dock to the deck of the Nyx. Going down the steps to the small cabin area on the first deck he quietly approached the young man slumbering in the bunk. "Trahan," he said, lighting a lamp.

Alain Trahan woke with a start and turned to see who had called his name. Leaning against the cupboard was a tall man silhouetted in the light. "Yes, I'm Trahan. What do you want?"

The man turned up the lamp revealing half a face covered in black material. The hard expression in his one good eye fixed Alain like a bug captured under a glass. He crossed his arms over his chest. "Answers," he said in a toneless voice.

Alain Trahan felt dread spreading though his belly like cold fingers. The scarred man was De La Shaumette's henchman according to local gossip. "Martin?" he asked. The man nodded. "I work for De La Shaumette," he stammered.

"As do I," Erik assured him, "as long as the pay is enough for the job."

"What are you talking about?" Alain replied slowly swinging his legs off the bunk. Maybe he could get up and make it out the door before Martin could catch him.

Erik saw the furtive glance towards to door and placed a booted foot against the end of the bunk to keep the boy from bolting. Reaching down into the boot he made a show of pulling out a very slender and dangerously sharp stiletto. "No games, boy," he said holding the knife carelessly. "'Shaumette knows that you damaged the boat. Now you and I are going to have a chat about why you did, and who you did it for."


Monday was going to be a busy day for Emily, but she dashed off a note to Monsieur De La Shaumette hoping to get a reply.

Monsiuer,

I spoke with G.C. He admits to the note.

He also implicates Blaise Gaultier. It has

something to do with the sister. I do not

think that Jules Gaultier knows.

I have meetings today, but only one before

noon tomorrow. Should we meet?

E.G.

Sending it by cab to the house, Emily went back to the apartment and gathered up her supplies for the day. She had two short meetings in the morning, and an afternoon planned at one of the smaller colleges in the old section of town. According to Phillipe the school was small but had students from some of the more influential families in Rouen. Hopefully she could meet more people interested in the typewriter. Monsieur was planning to send for fifteen machines. She wanted to line up interested parties for the next group to be ordered.

As she stopped to pin her hat into place she looked down once again at the small black box he had sent to her with the earrings in it. She thought of that moment on the stair, how he had brought her hand to his face, turning his cheek in her hand. Was Javier right? She never pictured herself as a woman a man could not resist. If he was right, what would it mean to her?

She had to admit to herself that he was an intriguing man, but was she ready for another man in her life? She really didn't know that much about him to know if he was searching for a wife or a companion. The French were renowned for keeping mistresses, what if that was what he had in mind?

Emily had been raised to believe that a man and woman married. Although her marriage had turned into a disaster, and she had committed the unthinkable by divorcing, could she marry again? And what if he was only after a dalliance? After the emotional turmoil she felt after the divorce, she doubted she could be so casual as to go to a man's bed. She knew in the quiet corners of her heart that she could not give herself to a man without love.


Erik quickly sketched out his plans for the next two days to Javier and Phillipe. He handed a folder over to Phillipe with all of the current contracts and bank drafts to keep business going for the time it would take to close the affair of the sinking boat.

"What are you going to do with Emily," Phillipe asked.

"According to Trahan, she is going to be the bait they hope to keep us busy with. I have arranged for her to be taken to one of the boats. We will then meet at the warehouse where we will finish closing the snare on our would be villains.

Javier whistled softly and shook his head. "She will be 'mad as a wet rooster'."

Phillipe put in, "That's 'madder than a wet hen', Javier"

Erik looked from one man to the other. Another of Emily's American sayings, it seemed as illogical as having bagged cats. "I promised her I would protect her, and it is not a promise that I would make lightly. If everyone follows my instructions we will get through this without causing more than a minor annoyance to Emily in the form of a few missed appointments."

"And if anything goes wrong," Phillipe asked.

"There will be hell to pay if anything happens to her," Erik replied darkly, "I will promise you that." He wouldn't allow anything to befall Emily Griggs; he did not want to face a future with out her.


As Emily left the building where her last appointment of the day was, she walked a short distance to a shop and picked up a small bag of apples to make Clafoutis Normand, an apple-butter pudding. Adding a bottle of Brandy, she would take home to Livy and Perrine as her contribution to the evening's dinner.

Arriving at the apartment, she stepped out of the cab and paid the driver. As he urged the horses away from the curb she turned and saw a young man standing at the corner of the street. He was tall with the kind of rawboned body that could be deceptively stronger than his angular frame seemed. He saw her, and removed a rather large floppy brimmed hat, nodding to her.

He seemed familiar, and Emily paused a moment to try to place the face. He smiled slightly as if he recognized her as well. She picked up her bag and walked to the corner. "Hello," she said, "we have met before?"

He seemed a bit shy, glancing around the street. "Yes, Madame. My name is Alain Trahan. I was with you on the canal boat with the typewriters."

"Oh yes. You were the one that was sent to round up men from Jumieges to help get cargo off."

He clutched the hat to his chest, and took a few steps backward, bobbing his head "Yes, Madame." He stammered, "Ah, how are you finding Rouen? It is a very large city."

She nodded in agreement "I am getting settled in. It is a pleasant place." She shifted the bag on her arm.

"Here, let me take that for you," he said grasping the top of the bag.

"That's alright," Emily said, but he was already lifting it out of her arms.

"I will help you," he said cheerfully.

"Well, thank you Monsieur," she said. The idea women were helpless creatures that needed a man around must be universal. Every one of them seemed eager to help her in some way.

Standing in the small square with traffic moving in and out, Emily did not pay attention to the sounds from the approaching carriage. When it came close enough, a door swung open and a man stepped down, wrapping an arm around her waist and a hand over her mouth.

Emily froze for a moment as she felt herself pulled backwards. Reverting back to the days she used to wrestle with her brother, she stepped back bringing her heel down sharply on the man's instep. Feeling her foot stop and the muffled sound in her ear she knew she had hurt him, but had not surprised him enough to make him loosen his grip. She reached up with her hand to try to push his hand from her mouth, going limp at the same time to try to slide beneath his arm. Unfortunately the nice young man named Trahan reached down and grabbed her legs lifting her, and the man who held her from behind pulled her into the carriage.

Alain quickly climbed in as well slamming the door. He hit the roof twice with a closed fist and the carriage began to move. "Please Madame, do not struggle." She was kicking, and he once again captured her legs. "We are not going to hurt you, but you must not struggle," he added emphatically.

Emily was not at all happy with this turn of events. Besides the indignity of being set upon by two men and abducted in a carriage, was the fact that she was in the lap of the one whose hand still covered her mouth. Part of his hand cupped her chin, his forearm across her collarbone; he held her head securely against his chest in a manner that prevented her from twisting her upper body. Held in such a way with Trahan holding down her legs, all she could do was calm down and wait until the next opportunity she had to get away.

She watched outside the window over Trahan's shoulder as the carriage swung into a turn. It was not a very long ride and she had tried to catch some of her landmarks in the window. When it finally rolled to a stop she saw only the side of a building. They must have pulled into another alley, undoubtedly to keep from being seen. The man behind her still held her firmly as Trahan spoke. "I am going to get out now. I don't want you to start fighting again. You understand?"

She couldn't move her head, and the hand still was clamped over her mouth. She focused her eyes on Trahan and blinked slowly for a yes. Trahan nodded back and the man behind her slid forward moving her towards the door of the carriage. Trahan reached out and took her arm. "We are going to cross the street to a boat. If you start to make any sounds, we will be forced to knock you senseless."

Emily made a muffled growl but blinked her eyes again. The hand slowly came away from her mouth and she pursed her lips to show that she wouldn't make a sound. Trahan watched her carefully, and offered her a hand, helping her out of the carriage. The man behind her kept a hand on her shoulder near her neck. She didn't dare try anything here although it was light and people were moving about on the street. With the man behind her, he could easily club her head or choke her. She kept her eyes trained on Trahan and let him lead her by the arm to a canal boat.

She was guided down two steps as Trahan held open the cabin door for her. Still clutching her arm in one hand he pulled her gently into the dim room. He indicated the bunk next to the wall, "Please Madame, sit over there." He continued to guide her over, but she felt the hand of the man behind her fall away. Good, if the second man left she would stand a better chance of getting away.

Erik backed out of the cabin and looked around the dock. Dressed as Charles Martin, very few people would take note of his being on the boat. He walked back to the carriage, his foot still stinging from Emily's attack. He'd never dreamed that his first chance to hold this woman in his arms was when he would be her abductor. He shook his head; evidently old habits did die hard.

Emily sat down on the bunk, and scooted to place her back against the wall. "How long will I be here?"

"I cannot tell you that, Madame. Please make yourself comfortable. We will not touch you, if you continue to behave."

Not a very good chance of that, she thought. She noticed for some inexplicable reason he had brought her shopping bag, placing it onto the cupboard across from her. She glanced around the compartment. "This is only the second canal boat I have been on," she commented. "As you know, someone tried to sink the first one. I am not going to have to repeat that experience am I?"

He had brought a stool over and sat watching her. At her comment he shook his head, "No Madame! I told you, you are to be here a little while, and then we will move you to someplace more comfortable for you."

She gave a short laugh, "Well, thank you for that. Someone wants me comfortable?"

"Yes Madame. We have instructions."

"And who has instructed you," she had to ask. Perhaps he would give some clues as to who ordered this little trip.

"I can't tell you. I only know my part in this. I am to keep you here until the man returns who will move you." He pronounced the words carefully as if he was a schoolboy repeating his lesson for the day.

Emily sighed heavily and went back to looking around the cabin. There was a long low window above the cupboard. She could get through it, but not with him here, and having a skirt on would make it difficult. If she got hung up because of the skirt she would be in more trouble for trying to get away. There was the cabin door they had come through. Could it be locked? De La Shaumette had given her a key for a cabin. She could not remember hearing the man who left lock it, but he might have.

Looking towards the doorway to the cargo area she knew from trying to retrieve the typewriters at Jumieges that there was not exit that way either. She reached up and pulled off her hat which had remarkably stayed on her head. Good, that meant her hat pin was still in it. She had a ludicrous picture flit through her mind of fending off a snarling bunch of men with her hat pin thrust forward like a rapier. She could just picture De La Shaumette bearing down upon her with lowered brows, thundering in that commanding voice, 'Madame, have you lost what little sense you have?'

Good lord, that man was going to be able to bite the heads off of nails when he found she was gone. After their argument in his study about taking carriages, he couldn't blame her for not getting into one. It was just her luck that they had provided a carriage for her.