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The French Encounter: Christian Historical (Window to the Heart Saga Book 2)

By Jenna Brandt

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Window to the Heart Saga:
The French Encounter

Jenna Brandt


Chapter 1


1863 Le Havre, France


Lady Margaret, Countess of Renwick and widow of Henry William Wiltshire, the Viscount of Rolantry, held on to the rail of the steamboat. As she approached the French shoreline, her long, raven locks blew in the wind and she could feel the fall air on her pale skin.
As she clutched the vessel’s edge, she wondered what lay ahead for her. Not only was she afraid, since it was her first time on the open sea, but also because everything was so unknown. She had barely been out of her province in England, and now she was about to step foot in a foreign country. This new place held the possibility of a completely fresh future for her and her newborn son.
She never thought she would leave her homeland of England, let alone run away in the middle of the night because she feared for the safety of her family. But with her parents dead and having no family to protect her, she had no other recourse.
The events that led to her fleeing to France still haunted her. She would never forget the brutal attack on her body by Richard Charles Crawley III, the Duke of Witherton, or how he set the whole ordeal in motion to look like she willingly betrayed her husband. The horrified look of anguish on Henry’s face when he saw what seemed to be an unfaithful liaison would not leave her. She had tried to convince him it was not her doing and that she had been trying to protect him because she loved him, but he did not believe her when she told him that the duke had tricked her so he could use her to hurt Henry.
So much mistrust and damage had been done by her naïve belief that she had been in love with the duke that, by the time she uttered the words out loud, saying “I love you” could not fix what had been destroyed. Her husband died in a duel over her honor, believing she never loved him. Margaret could not reconcile her guilt from his death.
As punishment, her late husband’s sister, Catherine, enforced the banishment Henry had placed on her, confining her to their London estate. In an ironic twist, two months into her exile, she found out that she was with child. It was only her faith in God and her choice to live for her unborn son that made it possible for Margaret to survive.
Every day had been a battle to live without the love of her life. Basic things like eating and sleeping felt like impossible feats. And the most difficult part was living in fear of the outcome of the paternity of her son. She recalled Catherine saying to her, “Once the baby is born, I will come back and make the decision of what will be done with it. You better hope and pray that it is Henry’s child, because if it is not, you will have to figure out how to survive on your own. Additionally, there is the possibility that the duke will want to lay claim to his bastard.”
But God protected her. Through her exile, she was given the opportunity to plan her escape. When she gave birth to her son, whom she named Henry after her late husband, she was able to keep Catherine from intercepting her and carrying out her plans.
Even though she had never been to France, Margaret knew more about it than any other country. Her twin brother, Randall, had been lost at sea when his ship went down outside of France. She had vigorously researched everything there was to know about the country, hoping that one day she might be able to take a trip to France to find him. But her father dealt with Randall’s presumed death by focusing on anything other than finding out what happened to him, which left no room to allow her to pursue her hopes of finding her brother alive.
Flash forward eight years and Margaret had finally made it to France in the most unexpected way. When she decided to flee the country, she made the decision to go there so she could carry out her long-hidden plan to search for her brother. If she had to leave behind everything she loved and knew, it was not going to be in vain. If her brother was alive, she was going to find him.
As Margaret stepped off the ship, she was greeted by a tall, well-dressed gentleman with a thick French accent. “Welcome to France, Countess. I am so delighted to see you again. I am glad that you have arrived safe, and I have arranged for you to stay at my estate.”
Pierre Girard, the Vidame of Demoulin, was an old family friend and had visited her family right before her marriage to Henry. He had approached her father to discuss the possibility of courting her, but her father had declined his offer, opting to keep his promise to Henry’s late father instead.
Margaret studied the vidame; he had a chiseled body that was made evident by his tailored, stately suit in light grey. He was quite handsome with his straight, jet-black hair that stood out in contrast against his pale skin. His face was set off by his dark brown eyes that drew her in and held her attention. He was confident but not arrogant, which was refreshing in a nobleman, and there was something about him that exuded sensuality.
She had not been able to see Pierre’s admirable qualities when he previously visited because she had been infatuated with the Duke of Witherton. Nothing else mattered to her, and she had no idea who the duke really was or of what he was capable.
When Margaret realized she was in danger from two different directions, she knew she had to leave England to protect her son. She discreetly contacted the vidame, via letter, to ask if he would be willing to allow her to stay with him while she made more permanent arrangements. She explained her travel and stay with him should be kept quiet as there were safety concerns for her family if they remained in England. The vidame had agreed to her request, and Margaret was relieved to find somewhere safe to stay while she figured out what to do next.
“Countess, by title I am a protector of land and people alike. I assure you that you will be safe and I will not allow any harm to come to you or your son while you are under my care.” The young man bowed deeply, and as he came up, he took Margaret’s hand and kissed the top of it.
She smiled softly at him and spoke in flawless French, “Thank you for your hospitality, my lord.”
His mouth formed an appreciative grin. “You speak French beautifully, Countess. Tell me, how is it that you came to speak my language so fluently?”
“I had a deep… interest in your country since I was a young child and wanted to know every detail about it, including how to speak the language. At my insistence, my father hired a French tutor.”
He took her hand and put it in the crook of his arm. “Come, I will escort you to my estate, and then we can discuss what your plans shall be while you stay with me.”
“I am honored that you have done as much as you already have for us. I am truly grateful.”
“After our last encounter in England, you should know by now that I would do anything you ask of me.”
She blushed at the compliment. It seemed Pierre’s interest in her had not dissipated since the last time they were together. “Your generosity is just one of your numerous admirable qualities, my lord.”
Hearing a noise behind her, they both looked at her entourage. With a hint of mirth, Pierre commented, “It does not seem you travel light, Countess.”
Margaret looked at her devoted servants, Albert, Sarah, Motty, and Francisca, who chose to follow her to France. Along with her son and several pieces of luggage, she could see that she appeared to be ostentatious. However, what the vidame did not know was that this trip had no return date. There was no going home for any of them.
As they walked towards the nearby carriage, Margaret weighed her options on whether to tell the vidame the full details of her predicament. She worried that, if she told him the entire circumstances surrounding her sordid past, he would look at her differently. She did not think she could handle another person judging her for something that was out of her control. She needed the vidame to remain on her side, so she chose to keep the intimate details surrounding her reasons for coming to France private.
“I hope that France meets and exceeds all of your expectations,” the vidame said as he helped Margaret up into the carriage.
She turned her head and looked down at him with her deep violet eyes, replying, “I am sure that it will, my lord.”
***
The vidame’s estate was expansive, one of the biggest in which she had ever been, and she thoroughly valued all the comforts. It had been a long time since she had been treated so well. When Henry died, Catherine had left her with a skeleton staff and a small stipend for her needs. She had saved almost all of it, along with the hidden money she had from her father’s safety deposit box, for her plan to flee England. She had spent the entirety of her pregnancy living like a pauper.
“So, how are you settling into Parintene? Do you approve of my home?”
Margaret took a sip of her wine and then replied, “Yes, Pierre, it is lovely.”
The two of them had grown acquainted over the two weeks she had stayed at his home and started calling each other by their given names.
“I believe that we are friends again, like we were as children. Do you agree?”
Smiling, she nodded. “We are fast becoming that, I agree. I cannot thank you enough for taking us in like this. I have not felt this secure in almost a year’s time.”
“I am pleased you feel safe. I also hope you are enjoying the amenities.”
“Most assuredly. Your home provides a myriad of activities. As you may have guessed, the stable is my preferred destination.”
“I ascertained as much from my previous visit to your home. I remember you wearing that lovely riding habit and knew you would be partial. I am glad the stables are to your liking. I had them refurbished for your arrival, as well as purchased additional horses for your use.”
Margaret was impressed by Pierre going to such a prodigious extent to make her stay agreeable. She found it soothing being in the stables, as she had always found comfort in riding horses.
“I appreciate your care in providing such lavish accommodations. Your stables are magnificent and the horses are wonderful. However, I miss my own horse, Charlie, terribly.”
Charlotte’s Pride—or Charlie, as Margaret called her—was the Arabian filly her family had been working towards preparing for show in England before everything went awry in her life. Margaret had spent countless hours in the stables making sure the trainers did everything right. As a woman, she was unable to do the work herself, but she had read comprehensively on the subject and participated as much as possible. Her father had allowed her to make most decisions in regard to their estate horses, and her late husband had given her the same latitude with the ones they owned. But when she had fled, she was unable to take most of her possessions with her, and a horse was out of the question. Giving up so much, Margaret wanted one day to be able to reclaim part of her hopes and dreams by producing her own line of purebred horses. She yearned to find the finances and land to do it, but all of that would have to wait until she found her brother, if in fact he was still alive. If she did, they could move away together, somewhere remote where no one would ever find them.
“I am sorry you were unable to bring her with you. I know how much you cared for her.”
Margaret looked away and tried to hide her sadness at the thought of never seeing Charlie again. “Thank you. It has been difficult coping with the many losses.”
Pierre had proven a faithful and devoted confidant, and she knew that keeping her past from him would not serve either of them well. He could not help protect her if he did not know from whom he was doing the protecting, so Margaret had explained her entire situation to him—at least, the broad strokes of it. She still could not bear to discuss the details with anyone. The pain and humiliation felt as fresh as it did the night the duke forced himself on her.
“I am glad that your father was friends with mine. If not, my son might be in the clutches of someone else by now.”
He frowned. “You are sure that you do not want me to help you with your situation? I know many influential people who could take care of your problem for you. You would not have to worry any longer.”
She shook her head. “This particular situation is something that will not just go away simply by contacting the right person.”
Margaret watched as Pierre smirked and raised an eyebrow, as if amused. He then stated, with a hint of danger in his voice, “I would argue it depends upon the person you contact. There are many types of people in this world, and I know the right types that could make both of your problems disappear.”
She realized immediately that he meant he could make the duke and Catherine “disappear.” Though tempting, she could not be responsible for the death of another human being, even one as vile as Witherton or as hateful as Catherine. Her new relationship with God made her value all human life, and she truly believed in the idea that anyone could be saved. It was hard to accept that meant even the duke, but at the core of her beliefs, she truly believed everyone was salvageable. It was not her business to save them, but it also was not her place to remove the chance of redemption. She left justice for the Lord to exact one day and preferred to focus on her future.
Uncomfortable with the conversation, Margaret changed the topic. “There is something else with which you can help me. I am in need of hiring an investigator. Could you help me locate one?”
Pierre leaned back in consideration for a few moments before replying, “I have used one on occasion myself. The one I employ is exceptional, as well as quite discreet. I can set up an appointment with him whenever you wish. But I ask you, why is it that you need to hire one, Margaret?”
She stared at the wineglass and absentmindedly tapped the stem with her fingertips. After a few moments, she looked over at Pierre. “I need to find my brother.”
He furrowed his brows together in confusion. “I do not understand what you mean. I was under the impression that you had no family left. I had been informed of your father’s death, and I went to school with your brother Randall before he was killed.”
“No, Pierre, I know Randall never died in that shipwreck. If he had, I would have felt it. We have a special bond as twins, and I just know that he is still alive.” She glanced over at the window and continued as she stared out. “Randall is one of the main reasons I came to France. I have wanted to search for him for years but have never been able to leave England. You might think that I am on a fool’s errand, and you might even be right, but I have to know for certain.” She brought her focus back to Pierre. “Since I am here now, I need to try to find him. He is the only family I have left.”
Pierre gestured to one of the servants, who immediately came to his side. He whispered something in the servant’s ear and then turned his attention back to Margaret.
“I just sent word to Josef Mulchere. He will help you find your brother.”
“Thank you again, Pierre.”
“I understand your reason for coming here now, but I have to admit I had hoped, before your disclosure, that you chose to come to France because of me. You know I had been interested in pursuing a courtship with you before you married Henry. My feelings for you have not altered.”
“You are a dear friend, Pierre, but I am not ready for a romantic relationship. I am still in mourning over Henry’s death.”
Pierre nodded. “I would expect nothing less, but when you are ready, I will be waiting.”
Margaret’s smile faded and a pang of sadness took hold in her. “You should not wait for me. I am in no condition to be with anyone. I fear I am broken beyond repair.”
“You give entirely too much power to that man. The duke did not destroy you. The woman who sits before me is kinder, wiser, and stronger than the one I knew back in England.”
“You have always seen the best in me, Pierre, even when we were children. When I see you, I think of happier times, when you and I, along with Randall and Henry, played in the family gardens. Life was so much easier back then. So much loss has occurred since those days.”
“You have had more than your fair share of misfortunes. I do, indeed, hope you find your brother. I think it would do the both of us a world of good. When he was lost, it was one of the hardest times in my life, and I know it was for you as well.”
“Randall’s disappearance left a hole in all our lives.”
“Agreed, but there is hope he can be returned to us. If he is alive, Monsieur Mulchere will find him.”

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