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

to find out for myself what is being done to help him.”
“We will discuss this with Eustacia,” Dominique suggested. “Are you feeling strong enough to dress and go to her?” Marianne nodded and Dominique turned to Estelle. “See to your mistress, Estelle, and then pack a case for her. We shall call it a shopping trip. We will bring Lady Margaret with us.” She kissed Marianne on the forehead. “We’ll probably arrive to find him already there and this worry will seem like nonsense.”
Eustacia seemed much improved this morning and she was quite approving of the plan to go ‘shopping’. The distraction, she told Dominique privately, would help Marianne. She was looking far too peaked, Eustacia said. She sent a note over to Tremayne Manor and two hours later a carriage arrived bearing Margaret and her trunk. Samuel and Stephen rode alongside on their stallions, chosen to be their guard. It took an hour more for the Tremayne’s to make their greetings to Eustacia and the servants to settle Marianne into the carriage. They drove off with the ladies; Marianne, Dominique, and Margaret, and their maids; Estelle, Celeste, and Molly, inside. The other women clucked and fussed over Marianne until she was ready to scream. She finally fell asleep and slipped into blessed silence.


Gerard looked up as the door to his cell opened and saw the old hag bring in his dinner. For the past several weeks he had been shut up in this room and seen only the woman. She did not answer his questions until he realized that she did not speak English. He was still in France, a prisoner of whom? Gerard was worried then. Marianne was probably fretting over him by now and she did not need to be worrying over two people. He had a shackle on his ankle to keep him in place and his shoulder ached from where he had been shot when the soldiers had caught up with him just north of Marseilles.
“I am not permitted to tell you anything, Monsieur,” the old woman answered when he asked her in French where he was and why he was a prisoner. “I am to bring you food and tend to your needs only.”
“Enough, woman,” a man’s voice snapped from out in the hall. “His lordship is not interested in idle gossip. Tend your other charges.”
Gerard saw a very tall, very large man with small dark eyes come in. He was wearing a uniform that Gerard recognized. The man smiled as Gerard sat down, looking stunned. He knew where he was now. There was no denying it when he saw the uniform. The man bowed mockingly and pulled up a chair to face his charge.
“His Excellency was very pleased when you were caught, Lord Travers,” the jailor laughed. “He is most annoyed that you managed to get your wife away from him. He would have words with you and the lovely Marianne over the matter.” He nodded towards the food. “He has asked us to provide only the best of fare for you until the lady joins you.”
“Leave her out of this!” Gerard snapped. “She is where she belongs!”
“She is your wife, Monsieur,” the man laughed. “The Emperor wishes her to be here for your execution. Then he shall marry her off to one of his English agents; a man who will see to it she is kept under control.”
Gerard rushed the man and the jailor struck him over the head, laughing. He left Gerard lying on the floor with a sore head. Gerard heard the door being locked and he got up, groaning in pain. Marianne was not safe yet. He had to get to her and keep her safe. If she were returned to France, she would be forced to marry some odious sycophant of the Emperor; a man who would not treasure her as the precious and glorious woman she was.
Where was she now? He went to the windows and knew for certain he was imprisoned in the Bastille. Was she a prisoner even now? Or was she safely at Pumphrey Manor under the watchful eye of her uncle and aunt? He prayed it was the latter. The Bastille was no place for a pregnant young woman. He could not let them hurt his child or Marianne by carrying her off like a piece of baggage. But he was trapped here, shackled like a beast in a cell in the Bastille, and at the mercy of a man of mercurial temperament. He could just as likely be dead by evening if Napoleon grew impatient.
“Why so glum, Monsieur,” the jailor taunted him when he returned a few hours later. “You have the best accommodations, the best fare, and you will soon be presented with your pretty wife to keep you company.” He laughed as Gerard threw the stool next to the bed at him. “You should be grateful the Emperor intervened when he did. The original plan was to torture you for information. Our Little General refuses to allow such treatment. He does not wish to distress your pretty lady unduly.”
Gerard watched him go and wondered why it was so important to the Emperor that he remain alive. His rank in England was such that the Emperor could be in trouble with the English throne if they knew he was being held prisoner. Did anyone in England even know he was here? And just how had he come to be here? There were too many questions and he did not like that one bit. He sat down to dinner and frowned as he saw a slip of white in his loaf of bread. He looked towards the door to make certain he was not being spied upon and pulled it out. ‘Help is nearer than you think’ was written on it in big bold letters. Gerard heard someone coming and swallowed the note, praying whoever was coming would hurry before it was too late for Marianne.


Marianne looked around the pleasant room she had been occupied only a few weeks ago in the Travers town home and smiled. The journey had not been too terribly taxing. The drug the doctor had given her had kept her from being too ill and left her feeling wondrously calm. The chatter of her companions had seemed almost pleasant to her, instead of annoying after the two days were over. She knew it was the effect of the drug, but she didn’t mind. They were all just trying to take care of her and her child, after all. The door opened and Estelle brought in her breakfast.
“I was hoping to eat with the others this morning, Estelle,” Marianne frowned. She had been in this room for three days now and she wanted to be outside. She knew from Estelle’s expression that the decision had been taken from her already. “Oh very well,” she shrugged and laid back with a happy smile; “let them be overprotective. Right now I am content. If Gerard were here life would be quite perfect.”
“We are going to the dressmaker today, lazy girl,” Margaret laughed as she came in an hour later. “Estelle, bring something for your Mistress to wear. She has spent enough time in bed!”
“You are a godsend,” Marianne embraced her friend. “I am dying to be out in the sun. This room, though pleasant, is starting to suffocate me.”
“You’re feeling better, I see,” Dominique smiled as she came in just then. She saw the dress Estelle was bringing out. “Not that one, Estelle. Bring her something in a warmer fabric. It is raining today and we do not want her taking a chill.”
“You’re treating me like an invalid,” Marianne protested even as she laughed. “I am recovering, Domi.” She thought of her aunt Eustacia. “Is there any news of Aunt Eustacia?”
“She is doing well enough,” Dominique replied. “Yes,” she smiled as Estelle brought out a burgundy wool gown. “That will put some color into her cheeks.” She kissed Marianne on the cheek. “The carriage is already waiting outside. Don’t be too long.”
A half an hour later Marianne was settled in the carriage with a blanket around her legs and a muff for her hands. She shook her head and surrendered. It was obvious that her aunt and friend were intent on pampering her after her illness. The dressmaker had tea waiting for them and she was quite happy to see her favorite client again.
“You have been ill, I hear,” Desiree smiled and patted Marianne’s hand. “How terrible! You have missed all the best parties!” She looked to Dominique. “Rest assured, my lady; we shall have your niece looking like a queen!” She turned to Margaret. “Lady Margaret, it is good to see you again. Are your lovely mother and grandmother with you?”
“No,” Margaret told her friend. “I accompanied my friend, Lady Marianne, and her aunt on this trip.” She hooked her arm in Desiree’s and led her off a bit. “She is mourning her missing husband, Desiree; so we brought her to town to try to cheer her up. Being pregnant does not help matters.”
“I shall see to it that she is pampered to within an inch of her life, my lady Margaret,” Desiree nodded. She clapped her hands and her assistants were sent running for fresh fruit and cakes for the lovely ladies. Marianne was measured and then sat back to be shown fabrics and models of the latest fashions for pregnant women. They spent an enjoyable two hours in the salon and the carriage was piled high with boxes filled with hats and shoes and other accoutrements.
“It’s about time you got home,” Andrew snapped. He had been worried when they had taken so long. He was still recovering from nearly losing them both. “You have a visitor, niece.” Marianne turned to see Lord Anthony standing there. Beside him was a tall, pudgy man with a ruddy face and dark eyes. Something about his face was familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it. “You remember Lord Pertwee?” Marianne nodded. “This other gentleman is his associate. Lord Thornton is in charge of research and communications.”
“They have news of Gerard,” Marianne guessed. She suddenly felt quite faint and she had to sit down. “I’m all right,” she snapped as Dominique and Margaret fussed over her. She looked at the two men. “We are all family here. Please tell me.”
“Gerard was arrested near Marseilles,” Thornton said bluntly, “and has been the ‘guest’ of the Emperor for the past three weeks.” Marianne sobbed and held her hand up to her mouth. “He is being treated quite well from all reports.”
“But he is in a cell,” Marianne knew. She looked to Anthony. “He is being used to bait a trap for me, isn’t he? The Emperor wants me back.” She was on her feet. “Tell him he can have me back, only if Gerard is returned to England unharmed. I will leave once I recover from having my child.”
“We can’t allow that, Lady Marianne,” Thornton told her firmly. She looked at him in shock. “In this matter, Lord Travers is expendable.”
“Not to me, he isn’t!” Marianne cried in protest. She was on her feet, her fists clenched in anger. “You did this to us, Lord Pertwee!” she glared at the man. “If you were going to provide a husband for me you should have chosen someone I could not love.” She was running then, sobbing in despair. Margaret and Dominique went with her.
“She loves him,” Anthony sighed and looked worried. “She is the type who will take it into their head to act. We can’t have that Andrew,” he told his man. “Your niece will be taken into custody and Lord Thornton shall have the oversight of her.” They heard gunfire and