Beyond a Doubt - By Felicia Rogers Page 0,60

carrying the refuse topside and throwing it overboard several times a day. He scattered hay. He brushed their slick coats. He delivered water to them. When would this be over?

Bryce almost believed the captain avoided Caen but that didn’t make sense. After a couple of days passed, the ship docked at the French port in question. The captain tried to convince him to stay on, but Bryce declined, leaving the ship as fast as possible.

The reins of his horse secure in his hand, Bryce walked into the street and studied the town. Now where did he start in his search for Lucy?

****

“What can we do?” asked Grace.

Lucy stared out the window of her French home. The house in France continued to be maintained, even in her absence. The maid, Grace, had once belonged to her paternal grandfather. After his passing she’d stayed on, assuring the house was ready in the event Lucy needed it.

The maid fluttered about, agitated. Of course she didn’t know the facts of the message, but she did know the Admiral had refused to see her mistress.

“How could the man dismiss you? Doesn’t he know you have something important to tell him? If your father was here, the Admiral would have bent over backward to see him. Why does a woman in the same position not call forth the same respect?”

A sigh escaped Lucy’s lips. How many times had she comforted the maid? Just because the maid spoke the truth didn’t mean they could do anything about it.

“You should send another request. How could he deny you again?”

Only a few days remained before the announcement that would place the Admiral in danger. Time was running out. More than one message had been sent to the Admiral and still every reply received refused her admittance to his presence.

Tonight there was a dinner to honor the Admiral’s friend, Jean Broussard. Lucy had arranged an invitation. In a few hours she would entertain with some of the most influential people in all of France. The pressure would be high to fit in and stay away from the Admiral, but she wouldn’t be listening to pressures tonight. Not even if it sent her to the Bastille would she relent.

The maid fussed and fumed verbally while she prepared Lucy. Covered by a French hood, her hair was arranged in a braid with a few escaping strands. She wore a gown of maroon velvet, with a low square neckline and gold braided trim. Comfortable slippers covered her feet.

“You look beautiful. Your grandfather would have been proud.”

Lucy brushed aside the praise offered by the maid as she gazed upon her own sad face reflected from the looking glass. Misery had been a constant companion since she’d left Bryce. Her pain was well deserved. Bryce would have no doubt followed her, perhaps to the ends of the earth, if she’d asked him.

With her chin propped in her hand, the clear glass showed her wrinkled nose and her pursed lips. The maid had squeezed Lucy's cheeks until the blood coursed through them.

The goal to draw the attention of the Admiral long enough to speak to him for a few moments should be successful. Grace had worked all afternoon to ensure that this would be possible and it seemed Lucy would not disappoint.

“Stand, Mademoiselle Lombard.”

Lucy complied. On point she spun, the wide dress trembling but remaining in place. The large framework underneath was uncomfortable but at the height of fashion. Fur-lined cuffs lay just above her wrist. A lady of means wouldn’t be caught dead any other way.

“You are sure to catch every eye in the house,” said Grace.

“There is only one eye I need to catch.”

“The man will have to be blind to miss you, my lady.”

“Thank you, Grace. You are too kind.”

Grace hurried to the window; excitement filled her tone. “Oh, my lady! The carriage has arrived. They must have sent you the best one. Gold edging, it has. And look, your very own footman.”

“Grace, grab my cloak.”

“Lucy, you must wait until I open the door, then you can come into the room and make a grand entrance.”

“Grace, I hardly think that is necessary.”

“But Mademoiselle, you must make them see you are royal. If you believe you are important, then all others will as well.”

Lucy realized it was easier to agree with Grace than to argue. The maid ran to the front door, stopping as a knock rang out on the other side. The maid straightened her dress then with an exaggerated flourish pulled the