Chapter 221 Chauesser Was It?

Dear faithfuls:

I will not be updating next week as I will be out of town supporting a friend as she graduates from the Marines! I will update the last week of June, and promise that it will be worth the wait!

The men stood in the woods, watching as peels of flames moved over the roof edges. Looking at each other and nodded. They'd be on their way now. Moving deeper into the woods, a third horse was likely to draw some attention, especially one with such a royal mount. It was Abbas' horse, and was part of the royal stable; they could no sooner leave it behind than they could have left the building unburned. It was of the rarest equestrian bloodline, and as a steed, its usefulness could not be parted with. It had sired more than a hundred horses, and all but one had remained in the stable until their deaths. It was the Sultana's wish to honor her father's dream of keeping the bloodline pure and accounted for. It had been one of her great distresses that the one stallion had gone missing from the stable, and she'd oft remarked that she hoped it had died along with the thief who'd rode off on it.

The men rode on in silence for nearly half an hour before they stopped, switched saddles, one mounting Abbas' horse, lashing the third horse to make it appear just purchased. None would question a man with a humble horse purchased and in tow.

Feeling now a safe distance, the first man took liberty to speak. "Who do you suppose took Abbas' life?" The first stared at the second, in a bit of disbelief as he rubbed the leather pouch that contained the last of Abbas' possessions.

The second shook his head. "It could not have been the property owner, for the place looked abandoned." He scratched at his chin. "An exchange gone poorly, it only stands to reason that the dealer of art had to have come upon and surprised him, that is the only way that Abbas could have met his present fate, for no fight could any man win against Abbas without such a clear advantage." The second shook his head, the first nodding in agreement.

"It would behoove us, at the next village, to send a post to the prison where the other is held. It will be time to finish that as well." He stared up at the sun that was beginning to warm the air. "It will be a good day for travel. If we've any fortune at all, we will be with the Sultana before the night is over. We shall let her decide hmm?" The man nodded.

"You are right, it is for her to decide. I pity the poor man, for if he's not to give what she wants he shall suffer even greater pains before he's put out of his misery, permanently."

The men nodded at each other in agreement. They'd seen far too much of the Sultana's temper. If the man produced nothing of any consequence, his end would be pitiful.

XXXX

The shopkeeper and undertaker kicked at the sides of their horses as they saw a great cloud growing in the otherwise blue sky. They'd not have far to travel now, and though they could not yet see the winter house fully, they were certain that the origins of such black smoke indeed came from that direction.

"No," the shopkeeper said "not the man's home."

Perdue looked at the shopkeeper. He'd neither seen the home of which he spoke, nor fully understood the man's concern for a man whom he now considered with such great suspicion. If it were a fire, there would be little that they could do, for the fire brigade would never arrive from Chauesser to be of any use to them.

They rounded the last group of trees, and the billows of black smoke came into view. The shopkeeper breathed a small sigh of relief, it was only the stable that was burning, and was of sufficient distance without wind, that the structure would run its course and pose no threat to the home itself. He'd have to send word on to Monsieur Courtland of the loss. He shook his head, unless Monsieur Courtland already knew of it. He could hardly allow himself to think of the man as anything less than a gentleman, but now he'd reason to wonder. A third dead now seemed far too much to be a coincidence.

The closer they came they could see others coming from arriving from neighboring homes, though they were indeed few. There was nothing to be done now, great high peels of flames rose from the roof of the building, and fire and smoke billowed from every window.

The men sat on their horses on a hill, a safe distance from the fire, just watching.

Perdue looked over at the shopkeeper. "To know of any real evidence of the man whom you saw dead on the ground, will be impossible." He nodded toward the burning structure. "A fire such as this will deprive even the bones of any flesh. There will be little more that we can do other than collect the bones and bury them."

The shopkeeper looked at Perdue, pursed his lips and replied, "I shouldn't have waited…" it would be his great lament. He felt torn. Was all this coincidence? Did Monsieur Courtland have enemies, the likes of which would terrify him? Why had three died? What correlation was there? Perhaps all a profoundly sad coincidence, but that line of thought seemed unlikely…one making excuses for the actions of another. He shook his head. Monsieur Courtland did not seem the type. A wife with child, a loyal household, a positive disposition, so sure of himself, so seemingly of royal birth.

"Sir?" Perdue said, pulling the man out of his stupor. "It might behoove us to check the house now. It is unlikely anyone would have remained to be caught, but it would be best to see that the home itself is secure."

The shopkeeper nodded, he couldn't agree more.

XXXX

The meal now finished, DeChagny stood and walked toward the window looking out at the City of Paris. "How very excited everyone will be to embrace you Raoul." He turned, smiling at his son. "A hero is always welcome in a City, but you," he walked over extending his hand and laying it on Raoul's shoulder, "you were already loved before this." He looked his son in the eye, a long serious gaze, "Now you are destined to become a legend spoken of a hundred years from now." He patted his shoulder.

Raoul slid his hand under the table, joining it with Meg's, squeezing it ever so slightly. "That is of little consequence to me father, though I am happy that it pleases you." He smiled at Meg. Glancing over at his sister who was sipping at her cup of tea, he smiled. "I would suppose that you ladies have things to tend to now?" his eyes traveling among Meg, his sister, and Madame Giry.

Meg lowered her head, a smile crossing her face. She'd a wedding to plan…a sister in the making, a father-in-law that had finally accepted her, a mother who was happy…the only thing that could have made that moment more special was having Christine there. If only she'd be able to tell her, share with her…it was the only thing that took just a bit of shine off of that lustrous moment. It was so much like the moments that they'd spent dreaming in the old dormitories of their kings and castles. If only she could see her…if but for a few hours…if only.

XXXXX

Erik helped Christine into the fresh garments that hung from the trellis above. Her swollen abdomen growing a bit more each day was beautiful to him. He bent over placing a kiss on it, rubbing his hand along her flesh up to her neck, pulling her toward him. "I love you Christine." He leaned away looking into her eyes. She smiled at him with all the trust he could imagine a woman ever having for a man. Only a year ago he'd yearned for her…and then she'd thought of him only as an apparition. Today, he could reach out and touch her flesh, see their love growing within her, and look into those eyes. No one could have predicted that future…and for a moment he was thankful…thankful he'd not been able to see the future, for surely he'd have wished away every day of his life knowing what was waiting. And had he not gone on his journey as he had…would he have yet ended in the same place? He thought not. Kissing her once more he lifted her hands and guided her to stand. "We've a journey ahead of us my dear…" he was sad to have to break the happy spell of the moment to tell her they must leave that peaceful place. "We must…"

Christine reached up and ran her hand along Erik's prominent jaw line. "I know my love…I know." She smiled at him, her finger lingering on his chin and then lightly brushing across his lips. "Paris?" she said looking up into his eyes.

Erik blinked. "You knew?"

"Not in my mind my love, but in my heart. It is the only safe place left for us…for surely none would look there." Christine slid her arms around his waist, resting her head on his chest.

Erik held her for a moment, and then slowly started to walk with her toward the house. She was far wiser than she'd given herself credit for. He'd seen so much in her before they'd been together, but this…this Christine was all new to him. He was watching as she grew into a wife, a mother, and it…it was as beautiful a thing as he'd ever beheld. This…he was not teaching her…this she was doing…all on her own.

XXXXX

Misty watched through the windowpane of the kitchen that faced the gardens. Monsieur Courtland and Elizabeth were walking toward the house. She sighed. Oh what a love, a great love was theirs. She did not covet it, but rather admired it with wanton affection. Theirs was what she imagined Plato had spoken of in his works. Two halves split apart from one another…destined never to be happy or fulfilled, lest they find one another and become a whole. She ventured it would not have mattered if they'd been paupers. Their love would have been as strong and true as it was now. Fortune and possessions were but window dressings to what really mattered in life. To one blessed with wealth it added sweetness no doubt. But even a life spent searching, scrounging every day to earn their keep, would have been as fulfilling. Their love would have shone as brightly in a small one room abode as in the palatial house and grounds of Courtland Manor. She sighed, just watching them walk. His arms wrapped around her protectively. She looked up at him with such adoration.

Misty turned away from the window, and suddenly it hit her. Andre was Monsieur Courtland…Erphan was the man she'd just been imagining as a less fortunate soul, and yet in both she was utterly happy. She sighed again. Andre had been her first blush, her first real attraction, and she'd no doubt she'd begun to fall in love with him. A life with Andre was certain to be exciting, and of good standing. She blinked, but in the last hours she'd begun to question. Holding Erphan in her arms….his confession…the look in his eye…her worry…what did it mean? She felt suddenly torn, and it startled her. She'd never felt conflict of this sort. She swallowed, smoothing down her apron. She'd go to check on him again. Surely he was sleeping peacefully. She walked toward the door, retying the strings about her waist, tucking in the ends as she passed through the entrance.

"Ahh...uh" she stumbled back a few steps having run headlong into someone, grabbing at them trying to catch her balance, nearly tumbling to the ground. "Pardon me!" She exclaimed, her eyes trying desperately to adjust to the dimmer light of the hallway.

"It is alright, I assure you."

The deep voice, the warm hands as they embraced her and did not let go even though she no longer stumbled, nearly undid her. "Erphan what on earth are you doing up? You…should…." Her voice dropped off as she stood looking up into his eyes. He neither smiled nor frowned, a serious expression on his face as he looked into her eyes. She could not explain, but she'd no desire to pull away, to look away….to think.

"Misty," he said, his voice low and steady. "I remember what I said to you last night." He waited for her reaction. She did not look away, encouraging him to continue. "My intentions were not to confuse you, or make life difficult for you." He looked deeply into her eyes, a serious tone taking over his voice. "It seemed I was staring death in the face…and I could not bear to leave this world without…without having told you." He paused. She'd not looked away, not pulled away, but simply stood before him, her eyes wide yet believing. "I want you to know my feelings are not altered by present circumstances." He swallowed, he needed to say it… "my heart longs for you to know, that no matter what you choose….I will always….forever…love you."

Misty looked down, blinking rapidly trying to stave off the tears that had come without warning. She swallowed, taking in a breath and held it.

His hand moved from the small of her back to her chin, lifting it gently so he might look into her eyes. "My only desire Misty is that you be happy…that you go where your heart leads you." He paused. "No one can make that decision for you, nor shall I influence yours. Listen to your heart." He looked into her eyes, those beautiful eyes, and leaned down placing a tender kiss on her cheek. Slowly he released her as he heard the door from the back gardens opening. Surely Stephan and Elizabeth were returning from their breakfast, and soon they'd be off. He'd listened to the preparations as he'd lay trying to rest. He could only hope now that his services would not be turned away simply because he'd had an unfortunate event the night previous. He wanted to be at Monsieur Courtland's side, as he'd promised, faithful until the end.

XXXXX

He ran his hand mindlessly along Nicole's shoulder. A happy silence had settled over them. Breakfast had been brought to the bedchamber but only half eaten, the tray lay off to the side of the bed, precariously on the table. There was a peace in that place that had not been there for a great many years…the promise of life.

John Paul turned his head, kissing her temple. The courtship had been anything but normal, but the night previous, had removed any doubts in their minds that the attraction had been real, very real.

Nicole's skin tingled. There was so much of life she'd never known, so much she had ignored, pushed aside, wondering if it would ever be hers, and in one night, John Paul had erased every trace of it from her mind and heart. She smiled, closing her eyes taking in the scent of his skin. Somehow intuitively she knew she'd never grow tired of smelling it to her dying breath.

"John Paul…today…could we…" She opened her eyes, feeling his hand move across her collar bone.

"Stay inside, all day?" He smiled looking down at her.

She laughed, "yes, that would be lovely." She'd wanted to ask if they could go for a stroll, so that she might display her ring, cry out to the world of their happiness, but his words were more than wise. Perhaps it was best for them to become comfortable with their togetherness before they shared it with the world. There were truly only a few days when a couple could bask in the glow of new love, and they…they'd just begun to taste the first fruits of it.

XXXXXX

Andre walked the short distance back to his room. He sat down on the edge of his bed, loosening his cravat. He'd change into something more suitable for the journey, and then once more just shy of Paris. While the bridges were restored, he'd no illusion that the water would have washed out many things between there and Paris, and he'd want to be prepared to assist the carriage driver if it were needed. He sighed, rubbing at his eyes. He could sleep in the carriage.

He stood, turning around to lay his waist coat on the bed, and gasped. There in the corner sat the woman. A terrible smile on her face at having surprised him. He reached for his waist belt, but alas it was on the table next to the woman. He stared at her with stern eyes.

She laughed under her breath, repositioning herself. "So tell about this little city of yours…" she smacked her lips… "Chauesser was it?"