Free A Daughter's Destiny by Jo Ann Ferguson Page A

Jean-Baptiste.”
    â€œI should—”
    â€œTomorrow is early enough to face everything you have to.” Closing the armoire door, he put a lacy nightgown in her hands. “Don’t ask. Our host seems to have entertained his mistress here.”
    She looked down at the lovely garment. “I am sorry for all of this, Evan. I had no idea that we would repay your hospitality like this.”
    â€œI know.” Bending, he kissed her lightly on her cheek. “Good night.”
    â€œGood night,” she whispered. She did not move until she heard the door close.
    Rising, she saw a small bolt above the latch on the door. She slid it into place, wondering if Evan’s friend wanted to be certain no one disturbed him and his mistress here.
    The bag, which Evan had left on the bed, drew her gaze. She lurched to the bed and upended the bag. Ignoring her father’s picture, which rolled along the blue coverlet, she picked up the wooden box that had been under her mother’s bed and opened it. She pushed aside the money that was all remaining of her hard work at L’Enfant de la Patrie. Her fingers shook as she reached for the ball of unbleached linen.
    She carefully unrolled it. As the blue vase appeared, unharmed despite its rough treatment, tears fell from her eyes. She ran her fingernail along the gilded streak of lightning etched across it.
    â€œI promise, Maman. I will take it home. No matter what, I promise you that I will take it home for you.”
    â€œI do not understand why you want to come back here,” Evan said. He rubbed his nose which was itchy with the pall of smoke. It was thicker on this narrow street than anywhere else in Soho. Although he had become accustomed to the heavy odor of London smoke, this was different. It held the reek of destruction.
    â€œI need to see it in the daylight.” Brienne gasped with dismay as the ruins of the salon came into view. “ Mon Dieu! ”
    He looked over the top of the straw bonnet that had come as had her black dress from the armoire in her room. He batted away a feather that was the same shade of bright blue as the ribbons beneath her chin. She would need to get a more sedate hat before her mother’s funeral.
    Swallowing his curse, he stared at the blackened timbers that were piled together like straws. Passersby had paused to stare at the rubble, forming a half circle around it.
    When the carriage stopped, Evan opened the door and climbed out. He handed Brienne out, but did not release her fingers. She did not seem to notice as she continued to stare at the reeking remains of the salon. Holding up the hem of her dress, she stepped over the puddles that still gathered among the cobbles.
    â€œIt is really gone,” she whispered.
    â€œWill you rebuild?”
    She raised her shoulders and lowered them slowly. “It will cost more money than I have to clear this away and build a new salon.”
    When she stepped away from him, Evan did not follow. He watched her in silence, wondering what she would do now. She could not be thinking of going to France any longer. Her mother had died, saving Brienne from the imperial madness Napoleon was spreading across the Continent. His lips straightened as he recalled his last trip to France. This, most definitely, was not the time for a social call on long-lost relatives.
    As she threaded her way through the crowd, he heard grumbles from the people who had paused to gawk. He wondered what she hoped to find. Splinters of glass sparkled in the sunshine, but could not brighten the depressing sight. A few spirals of smoke still wisped up into the garishly blue sky.
    He followed as she bent and picked up a blackened item by what had been the front door. It was a silver fork, tarnished black by the flames. He guessed scavengers had already picked through the ruins.
    â€œGood morning, Miss Laclerk.”
    Evan kept an innocuous expression on his face when he turned to see Haviland