Free Broken Legacy (Secret Lives Series) by Colleen Connally Page B

simple minded, the ones who had starved and had been treated with prejudice, allowed themselves to be seduced by the promise of rectifying the wrongs of bygone days. The problem lay with replacing one reign of horror with a reign now of unspeakable terror, where if the truth be known, no one was safe, for at any given time the tide could turn against anyone. This alone caused for the unmerited deaths of many innocents.
    Plotting and enlisting a list of suspects had become an obsession. The Republic had set up many Committees of Public Safety across France to handle these supposed threats. Heading these departments with dissident people, proud and high minded, but not wise. No, Eloise thought, wisdom had little to do with anyone’s actions in France as of late. Most spurned used the full force of their disdainful hate.
    Calais, spared a portion of this explosion, hushed down the irritation. Mainly, Eloise believed, because the poverty and starvation widespread in France had not been experienced as it was across the rest of the countryside. In turn, the leaders produced a softer report.
    Her family held positions in Calais, but that in turn wielded little power in Paris. She held little doubt within her that Lenister understood their position. If she allowed, gnawing doubts surfaced that Lenister wanted, needed, her to wield influence over Marc Pierre Bernard. Influence? She questioned whether Marc Pierre wanted ever to see her face again, not after their last encounter.
    She walked down the lane from the village. The landscape showed none of the evidence of the turmoil encompassing its people. The grass swelled in its greenery with a warm ocean breeze. Wildflowers bloomed on the side of the road with birds chirping in song. She breathed in deeply. This she needed. A smile emerged on her face when she rounded the bend.
    The house was pleasant and isolated because of the trees that surrounded it. A quaint old cottage lay before her where the trees fell away in front of a small garden. She strolled up slowly where a grapevine hung over some old wooden chairs. An elderly lady with a head full of gray hair pulled back in a tight bun hidden by a large floppy hat sat on the ground, weeding the vegetables that had sprung to life with the call of the spring. Dressed in an old ragged dress, her dry, wrinkled hands showed signs of the years of hard work she had performed. Her knees were beneath her, but Eloise knew well the lady was tall and lean in appearance.
    “ Nana Adele,” she said simply, but tenderness oozed from her tone.
    The old woman’s head rose to the sound of her name. Immediately, a large smile greeted her ward. “Eloise.”
    Eloise reached down and gripped tight ly her nanny’s hand, pulling her upward in a warm embrace. “Oh, Nana Adele, I have missed you so.”
    “My dear, my dear,” Nana Adele said. Her hand stretched to touch Eloise’s face and her hair, as if seeing if all real.
    “You have come.” Suddenly, she paused. “What is wrong?”
     
    “So it seems you live in a quandary, my dear. What do you plan to do?”
    Nana Adele sat across from her in the tiny kitchen at the rickety table where the two had retreated to converse. Eloise leaned forward, pushing the glass of water away from her.
    “It is why I’m here, Nana Adele. I need advice and know of no other I can trust.”
    The old woman rubbed her tired eyes. “I told you before you began this venture that all would be more complicated than you believed.” She shook her head. “You should not have married the man, Eloise. All was within your grasp.”
    “Do not come back on me, Nana Adele. Do you not know I comprehend well my mistake? I had no time to plot or plan. I had to keep all quiet. There was no other way.”
    “Does he know?”
    “Some, I suspect. I’m not a fool, Nana Adele. I know he is playing me, but I’ve made up my mind.”
    “Because of his children. Because he loves his children , no matter if they’re illegitimate. You