Plain and Proper by M J Marlow (beach read TXT) 📕

window. “What he wishes from me belongs only to my husband!”
“You are in France now, my dear,” Napoleon laughed at her. “Here we do not hold such beliefs. You are a beautiful woman, lady Strathmore,” he continued as he approached her. “You were fashioned by the gods themselves to give pleasure to men. If I choose to give you to my loyal servant,” he smiled at her nastily, “as a bed mate; than it shall be so.” He reached up to rip the front of her bodice open. “If I wish to take you myself,” he snarled as he pulled her to him and kissed her as she struggled to be released; “that shall also be so. You are a hostage, and have no voice here.”
He released her and Marianne backed away from him, her hands holding the tatters of the dress around her. He laughed and left the room without another backwards glance. Marianne burst into tears, her fear no longer controllable. She could not stay here! She had to get away from these monstrous people before they harmed her or her child. She looked at Gerard in despair and saw the rage in his eyes, the clenched fists. He would kill Napoleon before he would let her be taken by him. She collapsed to the floor, sobbing as the horror of the situation hit her full on.
“I will kill him before he lays a hand on you again,” he said as he took her into his arms. “Hush now, my love,” he crooned as he picked her up and carried her to bed. “I’ll get Dominique…”
“No, Gerard,” Marianne cried and grabbed his arm as he turned to go. “Please stay here with me a while. Just hold me?”
The next two weeks went by in a routine of walks, dinners, and outings. The D’Arbanville were their constant companions so there was relative safety from the Emperor’s threats. Gerard was called to the Emperor and told that his services were needed. He was to act as a courier to the Spanish court. He was to go alone, the Emperor told him; his pretty mistress would remain with the D’Arbanville until he returned. Gerard knew he was being set up for assassination and he met with Henri to make their plans. Robert and Stephen sat in as he set out the action for them to take.
“There is a chapel in Aux-la-Chappelle that is quite delightful,” he told them. “Take Marianne there on an outing. He cannot disagree with that.” He was already mourning the loss of her. “Our contacts will be there to take her and Dominique on to Calais. Her uncle will be there to take them on to England.”
“What about you, Gerard?” Robert asked.
“I go to Marseille,” he said simply; “as I was ordered to do.” He saw their worry. “It can be no other way. It will alert them if I disobey the order. I am the distraction that will keep his eyes off of Marianne.” He laid his hand on Robert’s shoulder. “If I do not return, you and your brothers must promise me you will keep her safe.”
“But you will return, Gerard,” Stephen protested. He saw the others’ expressions and his blood ran cold. “We will guard her with our lives, as you would.”
Gerard was satisfied. He had one night with his wife and they parted in the morning. She did not want to go on the outing the D’Arbanville had arranged for her but he had told her to trust them. So an hour after Gerard had left she was in a carriage with the couple, their servants, and Dominique. They visited the chapel and had a picnic on a hill overlooking a picturesque landscape. But as they packed up to go, a band of men rode in, masked and firing weapons. They were taken captive and forced to ride with them for several hours north. Marianne watched as the D’Arbanville and their servants were blindfolded and left in an old barn under the watch of two men. Then she, Dominique, and the boys were taken on. They took only short breaks as they rode to Calais.
“Calm now, child,” a very familiar voice sounded in her ear as Marianne came awake during one of the rests and found someone putting their hand over her mouth. “I have you now. You are safe.”
“Uncle Andrew?” Marianne’s eyes shot open. She threw her arms around him with a sob and he helped her to her feet and led her to a closed carriage. The four ‘fugitives’ sat inside as they were taken to a ship. They were given cloaks to hide their faces and hurried aboard. Marianne collapsed on a bunk and fell into a deep sleep.
When she woke again, she was in a cabin on a ship. There was a dress laid across the foot of the bed. She slipped it on and walked out on deck where Andrew, Dominique and some unfamiliar men were waiting. Robert and Stephen were with them. She embraced them happily; glad that they had been safe. They were already halfway to England, Stephen told her.
“And Gerard and the D’Arbanvilles?” she demanded of him. “Please tell me they are all safe!”
“Henri and Stephanie are quite safe,” Andrew nodded. “There was a ransom demanded, that their man of business paid quite easily. They spun a little fiction that they had overheard their abductors saying they were taking you and the others to Morocco for sale as slaves. The authorities are looking for you from Paris to Marseilles. Gerard will find a ship in Marseilles and make his way back to you.”
“He is putting himself in harm’s way, Uncle,” Marianne cried and put her fist to her lips. She did not want him hurt. “Please excuse me. I’m not feeling well.”
She went back to the cabin and locked the door. Then she held a pillow to her face and sobbed as she thought of Gerard. She could not lose him now! He had to come home to her and their child. There was a knock on the door and she refused to answer it.
“You must eat, niece,” Andrew’s voice sounded on the other side of the door.
“I don’t feel like eating, Uncle,” Marianne told him. “Please leave me alone.” She curled up on the bed and began to cry again. She felt so miserable. If Napoleon’s soldiers caught Gerard, he would be executed for espionage. She could not bear the thought of him dying because he had tried to protect her. She fell asleep crying and woke up later to find dinner waiting on a tray on the table. Her uncle was sitting on the window bench looking out to sea. She ran to him when he opened his arms and cried some more as he stroked her back.
“You must trust him, Marianne,” Andrew told her. “He is doing what he must to get you away from Napoleon.”
“But he – he could die, Uncle,” Marianne protested. “What will I do then?” She began to sob again. “I will be left alone with no one to help me with our child.”
“You will cease this weeping at once!” Andrew snapped at her. She looked up at him in shock and he kissed her on the forehead. “You are of Macalester blood and will face whatever life sends you with courage and strength.” He shook her. “That young man loves you more than life itself, Marianne,” he told her bluntly. “He will find a way home to you.”
He set her on her feet and made her sit at the table and eat. He was frowning as he heard her break down again. He sent Dominique to see to her and tried to think what he could do to make this better for her. As much as he believed Gerard would get home, he was worried. Napoleon had sent the boy out on a mission with the intention of doing him in. Gerard was no fool! He would do what he had to do to give the dogs hunting him the slip. Andrew knew that word had been sent among their contacts to aid the young man every way they could. It was up to Dame Fortune now.


Marianne sat up with a cry of fright and found that she was shaking. It had been the same dream she had been having since the day after Gerard had left her in France, over three weeks ago. It was nothing, she assured herself as Estelle arrived at the sound to check on her. She assured her maid that she was fine and struggled to return to sleep. But sleep eluded her now; she had to find out if Gerard was all right. The dream of him falling to enemies was too vivid. It was almost as if she had been there when a bullet struck his shoulder and he fell from his horse. She finally quit trying to sleep and got out of bed. She went downstairs and surprised her uncle and aunt in the kitchen. They jumped apart as she walked in on their affection.
“I had a nightmare,” she told them when they asked why she was awake. “Gerard was shot and abducted,” she continued. She looked at her uncle and her worry was plain. “Has he sent any word at all, Uncle?” Andrew shook his head and her worry mounted. “He’s been gone nearly a month.” She was pacing in her anxiety. “I don’t like this!” She took the cup of milk that Dominique poured out for her and took a sip. A moment later her stomach was boiling. She ran for the bathroom and was sobbing after she lost the contents of her stomach. “I can’t let myself be sick now! Gerard needs me. I know it.”
Dominique saw her back to bed and Marianne finally fell asleep. She woke up in the morning and was sick again. Estelle was shocked when she could not keep her breakfast down. She had a footman run for the Doctor and settled down to tend to her mistress. When the Doctor finally arrived Marianne was quite pale from being unable to keep any food down. He examined the girl and came out of the room to a very worried Andrew and Dominique.
“Your niece has contracted the flu going around the country right now,” he told them unhappily. “Her illness is to be expected, given the way she is worrying herself sick over her young man. I’ve left a medication to help her with the nausea. Tell your Cook she should be given light nourishing meals several times a day until the worst of it is over.” He grew serious. “And try to keep her from worrying. It is not good for her or her child.” He frowned, knowing that was not going to be easy. “I’ll check in on lady Eustacia while I’m here. Don’t tell her about her niece’s condition.”
Dominique went into Marianne’s bedroom while Andrew went to see if his inquiries had born any fruit at all. She found her niece seated in bed pale and shaking. Dominique sat down next to her and put her arms around the girl. Marianne leaned into her and whimpered. She had always hated being sick, but it was worse for her now knowing illness would harm her child.
“You need to think of yourself now, Marianne,” Dominique told her bluntly. “The doctor tells us worry is not good for you or the child you are carrying.” Her hand joined Marianne’s on the girl’s swollen abdomen. She had just begun her fifth month of pregnancy. “You want to be healthy when he comes back to you, don’t you?”
“I want to go to London, Domi,” she told her former governess and now aunt. “I need