Page 62 of A Castaway in Cornwall
Alexander managed to keep up better than Laura had expected. Surprisingly, his ankle did not seem to much hinder him.
Eventually, François LaRoche appeared from wherever he’d been and stood on along the side, watching the dancers, arms crossed and smirking at Alexander’s imperfect performance. Laura barely noticed. To her, Alexander seemed to dance competently beside her, step for step, hand in hand. There was no one she would rather dance with, secrets or not.
Alex enjoyed the feeling of Miss Callaway’s smaller hands in his, and the warmth of her smile as they skipped down the line and back again. He gazed into her lovely face and shining brown eyes, relishing being so near to her. Looking at her, touching her, talking with her, he felt smitten and happy, the dark days of fighting and betrayal seeming so far behind him. He was already dreading having to leave her.
After the set ended, he escorted Laura to the punch table for refreshments. François joined them, apologizing to Miss Roskilly for missing the promised dance.
François drank his punch with his little finger raised, candlelight glinting on the gold ring he wore. Seeing it, anger again simmered in Alexander’s soul.
When François set aside his glass, Miss Roskilly took his hand and raised it, studying the ring.
“Is this your family crest?” she asked.
“Ah, you notice my ring. You flatter me. I was hoping someone would notice.”
He held up the back of his hand toward Alex, fluttering his fingers.
Alexander clenched his jaw.
“This is the crest of an old family in France,” François said. “It belonged to a friend of mine, Capitaine Carnell. I don’t suppose you, Mr. Lucas, were acquainted with this family? No, I did not think so. The ring of a French naval captain could holdno interest for you.” He gave a melodramatic sigh. “Sadly, the Carnells are becoming extinct, the line dying out.”
Miss Roskilly clucked sympathetically. “Why?”
“The elderly father is sick, and his two sons in mortal danger.”
“Oh no,” Eseld said, eyes wide. “Because of the war?”
“Perhaps.”
Alex fisted his hands, every muscle tense. He longed to reel back and punch François, decrying him as the thief he was. But to claim the ring would be to reveal his identity in front of everyone, including several militia officers. François knew that as well, which was precisely why he taunted him in this blatant manner.
Oh, but he was tempted to rip the ring from LaRoche’s finger. To wipe that smirk from his face...
Calm down, he told himself, summoning all his self-control. Now was not the time or place. But soon, he would take back his ring and his name, and do whatever it took to save his brother. Enora, however, was lost to him forever.
After the party, they returned to Fern Haven and bid one another good night. Miss Callaway and her cousin went up to their bedchambers, and Mr. and Mrs. Bray retreated into the parlour to dissect the evening over small glasses of sherry. Alexander, however, was too agitated to sleep or engage in polite small talk.
Receiving permission to borrow the vicar’s horse, he set out for the Fourways Inn, known to be frequented by smugglers, according to Jago. As he rode along, thoughts of François and the past filled his mind.
Alan had not been the only young person to admire François LaRoche. Young women were drawn to him too. Enora Le Gallhad been one of them. Enora was exceptionally beautiful, and she knew it. Sensual and flirtatious, she could have had any man she wanted, and she wanted François. Even so, Alexander fell under her spell. He admired her from afar but kept his distance, knowing she preferred François above all others and believing he had little chance with her.
The only other woman he had ever cared for with a flicker of romantic love was Léonie. They had grown up together. Their families had even rented neighboring houses for their seaside holidays. Léonie was beautiful too. She had not Enora’s sensual appeal but rather a ladylike elegance, though she was not afraid to deliver a well-deserved setdown when he or Alan teased her too much.
As she matured, Léonie became everything good, lovely, and noble. And she was fond of Alex. Léonie might have accepted him, had he asked for her hand. He had, in fact, considered a proposal during his long days at sea. But when he returned home on leave, things changed.
François had left. No one seemed to know where he’d gone, though some speculated he’d taken refuge on Jersey with one of the defeated rebel leaders to avoid arrest. There were rumors he made clandestine visits to Brittany, trying to foment actions against the “usurper,” as they saw Napoleon. But he had not returned to their village to see Enora.
Shortly after Alex came home, Enora turned her attentions to him, leaving Alex to assume she had become disillusioned with François and his prospects. Whatever the reason, he rejoiced in what he foolishly thought was his good fortune. Enora assured Alex that she and François were through and he would not be returning to her. He believed her and asked her to marry him before he left on his next commission. Everyone was surprised when she accepted. Perhaps it was disloyal of him—toFrançois and Léonie—but Alex let his desire for Enora overwhelm his better sense and higher principles.
When he became engaged to Enora, Léonie accepted his choice with warm, dignified congratulations. Alan saw his chance and swept Léonie off her feet. Alexander sincerely wished them both happy.
But in the days leading up to his wedding, Alex knew something was not right. He sensed Enora’s uncertainty and wondered if she harboured lingering feelings for François. He also wondered if she’d accepted him only because her family had persuaded her to, reminding her that Alexander was heir to his family’s estate and that her life with him would be far more comfortable than if she married a rebel like François. Either way, Alexander could see Enora was having second thoughts. But when he broached the subject, she declared all was well and insisted they go through with the wedding.
Alexander’s father attended their small, quickly arranged wedding, as did Léonie and Daniel—his friend fromla Marine Royalewho’d grown up in a neighboring village—but Alan did not.
After the wedding, Léonie said, “I am sorry, Alexander. I thought he would be here.”
He pressed her hand. “That’s all right. I am glad you are here. Thank you for coming.” Alex gave her a brave smile, but his bravado was shaken when he stepped out of the church.
