Beyond a Doubt - By Felicia Rogers Page 0,63
a smile upon his face, extending his hand for guests to shake. He was truly a man of God and of the people.
“He already knows.”
“What did you say, Olga?”
“I said he already knows his life is in danger. But he also knows where he is headed when this life is over. We all make decisions to do certain things based on what we believe to be true. In this case, Gaspard knows that standing up for his faith is right regardless of the risk. This is his cross to bear.”
“But if he dies then—“
“The cause will continue. The work of God will never end. You know He doesn’t really need us or our assistance to accomplish His work.”
“Of course I know this, but—“
Her hand rested on his arm in comfort. “With you, everything has a reason it cannot be done. The Admiral understands his part is small, yet it is one piece of a whole. Remember each part of the body has a part to play. The body cannot move without the head, no?”
Olga’s points were sound. The woman held an understanding unlike most of her gender. But even with Olga’s rational arguments, Jean’s fears would not abate. Their only hope was that something unexpected would happen in their favor.
****
What luck! Perhaps it wasn’t luck entirely. Twisting in the tight, uncomfortable clothing, Bryce studied his surroundings. The atmosphere was littered with pompous, self-important people trying to make themselves appear different and stand out in the crowd.
That was kind of how he’d been discovered. Arrival on France’s coast had been daunting, to say the least. Nothing and no one had been familiar. Bryce had stood still in a moving crowd. All around him people hustled and bustled to known destinations while he rubbed his horse’s nose and stared into space.
Then without warning, someone had bumped him. The well-dressed man had stumbled over himself in apology. Bryce had assured him he’d suffered no harm, but the man hadn’t listened.
“I’m very sorry. It is this infernal celebration, you see? Do you see my hand? Do you see how it trembles with anxiety? Why, if you could see my heart, then you would see it pounding against my ribs, no? But of course you would. I’ve never been so uncomfortable in my own skin.”
The man had continued to talk, and Bryce had listened, trying to make sense out of what he’d heard. The sounds of a thousand different conversations, the screams of babes aching for release from their mother’s arms, all had vied for his attention. The man of means had looked at him then, really looked at him.
“I am keeping you from something, no?”
“Nay.”
“Forgive me, but do I detect a Scottish accent?”
“Aye.”
His hand had thrust forward in greeting. “May I be the first to say, welcome to France. I assume you have a place to stay.”
“Nay, not at the moment.”
“Shameful it is for someone of such extreme stature to remain homeless. This might ring a bit odd, but I feel I should offer you asylum.”
“Do ye always listen to yer feelings?”
A smile had tugged the corners of the man’s lips. “Not as much as I should. But there are always opportunities for restitution, no?”
Bryce hadn’t had to think about it long before he’d said, “I humbly accept.”
****
All these happenings had led him to his current position, attempting to avoid a room full of men. Their gossiping was ten times worse than any woman’s. Of course he avoided the women as well, because they only spoke about men. The situation was hopeless.
“Now you understand my predicament, no?” asked Jean.
Genuine laughter born from understanding escaped them both. “Aye, I guess I do.”
“Is this not ridiculous? A celebration in my honor. I’m still embarrassed by the thought.”
For some reason, Bryce had the notion Monsieur Jean Broussard expected a certain answer or action from him. Since yesterday when they’d met on the docks, Bryce had sensed Jean waited on something, but he wasn’t sure what.
“I hope you enjoy the celebration. Ah, look at the door. That is one of the perks of being honored that I might not tire of — the women. If you will excuse me.”
Bryce nodded.
Left on his own, Bryce watched Monsieur Broussard welcome the newest guests. The ladies of different sizes and shapes bounded up to Jean and dropped into a low curtsey, leaving one lass standing in the background alone.
Breath caught in his throat. With her eyes averted, Lucy had yet to notice his presence. A tall plant stood nearby and Bryce