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Authors: Nikki Poppen
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caught her staring at him. She quickly looked away and moved towards a group of chairs in the park where a collection
of officers’ wives were gathered beneath a tree.
Talk at the supper tables was taken up by politics and
Napoleon as usual, Cecile noted as she stood a decent
distance from the tables playing a piece of quiet dinner
music. She made it a habit not to listen too closely to
what was said in case she inadvertently heard something she should not have been privy to. But tonight, the
conversation kept returning to a series of disappearances General Motrineau found intriguing, and Cecile
found it difficult to ignore the agitation that ran through
the guests.
“If you must know, Captain, I was not completely
honest with you this afternoon when you asked for a
secretary on loan” Motrineau motioned for a footman
to refill his wine glass. “I let you borrow my secretary
because I want you to keep him busy, keep an eye on
him. I’ve heard rumors about his involvement in a secret society with royalist sentiments.”
Alain did not appear nonplussed by the suggestion.
“Perhaps someone wishes him ill and spreads false rumors in hopes of seeing him imprisoned.”
Waiting to see that he had all eyes on him, Motrineau
continued. “If it is all false, then why have fifteen family members been discovered missing since March? I’ll
wager they preceded him out of the country. Maybe
they are fomenting rebellion abroad and raising expatriates against Napoleon”
Women at the table gasped at such blasphemy. Several guests uttered refrains of “Don’t people know they
are better off now than they were under the Bourbons?”
Cecile wanted to laugh at such uninformed hypocrisy. It
mattered little to her if France had a king or an emperor.
Her life would not change. Her father had once believed
the world could be changed by honest men with honest
ideas. He’d ended up dead and his livelihood destroyed.
“It seems they must have had help. They were all
bakers by the name of Panchette, of no real consequence to anyone except through their cousin by marriage, my secretary. There was no reason for them to
leave unless they were involved in something treasonous” Motrineau spread his hands expansively on the
cloth. “So you see, Captain, I must beg your forgiveness for my hidden agenda”
At the mention of the Panchettes, Cecile missed a
note, giving the tune a sour sound. The Panchettes!
Alain had been looking for them the day they disappeared. She speared Alain with her gaze. What did he
know? She missed another note and had difficulty recovering. Had the Panchettes escaped or had they been
arrested under suspicions of treason? What role had
Alain played in their disappearance? At least she was
justified in not telling him their whereabouts. Her glorious afternoon with her gallant prince crumpled against
the realities. Alain was a soldier for the regime which
had seen her father killed. Quite possibly, Alain had
been the one who’d arrested the Panchettes.
Alain gave a familiar shrug and waved away the general’s apology. “It is nothing. I shall keep an eye on
him.” His voice was blase but Cecile imagined for a
moment she’d seen recognition flicker in his green
eyes. Speculation ran rife through her mind. Had Alain
sought her out today because he hoped to use her to
gain access to the neighborhood where they’d met?
Was he perhaps still looking for someone else? Maybe
his kindnesses today had been calculated measures to
gain her trust. Did he already know she was the one
who now rented the rooms vacated by the Panchettes?
Rooms she was able to rent because of the money he’d
given her? The general’s loud voice from the table cut
through her growing anger.
“I knew I could count on you! You’re a fine man,
Captain. You must understand I cannot risk having a
treasonous viper in my own household. What would
Emperor Bonaparte think if he discovered before I
of officers’ wives were gathered beneath a tree.
Talk at the supper tables was taken up by politics and
Napoleon as usual, Cecile noted as she stood a decent
distance from the tables playing a piece of quiet dinner
music. She made it a habit not to listen too closely to
what was said in case she inadvertently heard something she should not have been privy to. But tonight, the
conversation kept returning to a series of disappearances General Motrineau found intriguing, and Cecile
found it difficult to ignore the agitation that ran through
the guests.
“If you must know, Captain, I was not completely
honest with you this afternoon when you asked for a
secretary on loan” Motrineau motioned for a footman
to refill his wine glass. “I let you borrow my secretary
because I want you to keep him busy, keep an eye on
him. I’ve heard rumors about his involvement in a secret society with royalist sentiments.”
Alain did not appear nonplussed by the suggestion.
“Perhaps someone wishes him ill and spreads false rumors in hopes of seeing him imprisoned.”
Waiting to see that he had all eyes on him, Motrineau
continued. “If it is all false, then why have fifteen family members been discovered missing since March? I’ll
wager they preceded him out of the country. Maybe
they are fomenting rebellion abroad and raising expatriates against Napoleon”
Women at the table gasped at such blasphemy. Several guests uttered refrains of “Don’t people know they
are better off now than they were under the Bourbons?”
Cecile wanted to laugh at such uninformed hypocrisy. It
mattered little to her if France had a king or an emperor.
Her life would not change. Her father had once believed
the world could be changed by honest men with honest
ideas. He’d ended up dead and his livelihood destroyed.
“It seems they must have had help. They were all
bakers by the name of Panchette, of no real consequence to anyone except through their cousin by marriage, my secretary. There was no reason for them to
leave unless they were involved in something treasonous” Motrineau spread his hands expansively on the
cloth. “So you see, Captain, I must beg your forgiveness for my hidden agenda”
At the mention of the Panchettes, Cecile missed a
note, giving the tune a sour sound. The Panchettes!
Alain had been looking for them the day they disappeared. She speared Alain with her gaze. What did he
know? She missed another note and had difficulty recovering. Had the Panchettes escaped or had they been
arrested under suspicions of treason? What role had
Alain played in their disappearance? At least she was
justified in not telling him their whereabouts. Her glorious afternoon with her gallant prince crumpled against
the realities. Alain was a soldier for the regime which
had seen her father killed. Quite possibly, Alain had
been the one who’d arrested the Panchettes.
Alain gave a familiar shrug and waved away the general’s apology. “It is nothing. I shall keep an eye on
him.” His voice was blase but Cecile imagined for a
moment she’d seen recognition flicker in his green
eyes. Speculation ran rife through her mind. Had Alain
sought her out today because he hoped to use her to
gain access to the neighborhood where they’d met?
Was he perhaps still looking for someone else? Maybe
his kindnesses today had been calculated measures to
gain her trust. Did he already know she was the one
who now rented the rooms vacated by the Panchettes?
Rooms she was able to rent because of the money he’d
given her? The general’s loud voice from the table cut
through her growing anger.
“I knew I could count on you! You’re a fine man,
Captain. You must understand I cannot risk having a
treasonous viper in my own household. What would
Emperor Bonaparte think if he discovered before I
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