Susan Johnson (28 page)

Mingen immediately went to fetch Tamyr and the baby seemed to realize it now had an audience for a flurry of kicking ensued. Teo held her hands over her stomach and felt a quiet contentment that despite the political machinations, Duras’s despicable wife, and the wrenching decision that faced her, she would have Andre’s baby.

“That’s a healthy kick,” Tamyr declared, delicately touching Teo’s stomach. “A boy kicks like that, wouldn’t you say, Herr Mingen?”

“I wouldn’t hazard a guess,” Mingen diplomatically replied.

“I don’t care whether it’s a boy or girl,” Teo happily asserted. “I feel so much pleasure, I feel connected to the universe,” she expansively exclaimed. “And in this benign mood, tell me, Anton, what of Talleyrand’s conversation is to be believed?”

“Let me question some of my sources for a kind of consensus. Although,” he went on with a negligent shrug, “the plotting and conspiracies are endless.”

“First Barras and now Talleyrand. They’re nervous at least,” Teo said. “And if the possibility of Andre becoming a Director is genuine, I could never stand in his way.”

The pressures had begun; the coup must be very near, Mingen thought. “Let me ride into the city this evening,” he neutrally said, “and see what’s in the air. The cafés are a hotbed of factional debate.”

“Talleyrand has resigned as foreign minister. Is he aligning himself with this new regime? Do you think they’ve contacted Andre yet?”

That was the pertinent question, Mingen thought. Or were they sounding out a dozen other generals as well?
Would Duras accept if a directorship were offered him was an added question. “I’ll see what I can find out this evening,” he replied, faintly alarmed for Teo’s safety if the conspirators feared her presence. None of them was above the most vicious acts. And Claudine’s threat of prison wasn’t to be taken lightly.

That evening with his authorizations from Duras, Mingen sent a telegram to the general enlightening him on Barras’s and Talleyrand’s visits. It was a brief message in code, ending with the suggestion he remove Teo to a more secure location. Advise, he closed.

News from the Prussian agents he contacted that evening suggested an authenticity to Talleyrand’s conversation. Lucien and Joseph Bonaparte were keeping a close surveillance on their brother-in-law Bernadotte. Apparently, they feared he was being offered the position of “sword” in Sieyés’s plot while their brother Napoleon was exiled in Egypt. Lucien had been sending frantic messages for weeks to Napoleon imploring him to come home before it was too late. But they’d received no reply and assumed their messages hadn’t escaped the British blockade.

Before Mingen and Teo could discuss what he’d learned the previous night, their morning breakfast was interrupted by another caller. Emmanuel Sieyés was at the door.

Interested in what had brought him out so soon after Talleyrand’s visit, Teo agreed to meet with him.

Once described by Robespierre as “the mole of the Revolution,” the plump former Jesuit priest, in his element in the atmosphere of plot and counterplot, greeted Teo with effusive compliments. But once the courtesies had been exchanged, the weather had been disposed of, the state of the garden and grounds praised, he said with an oily charm, “I understand Citizen Talleyrand was out to see you yesterday.”

“He came with General Duras’s wife,” Teo said. “Naturally I was surprised.”

“He inquired, I presume, into the general’s activities?”

“What activities precisely?” Apparently Claudine was dismissed as irrelevant.

“The state of the war, madame.”

This was the man who had betrayed first Danton and then Robespierre in the days of the Terror, so Teo spoke with caution. “As I mentioned to Citizen Talleyrand, the general never confided in me. Our friendship was separate from his military activities.”

“You rode with him to Bregenz, followed him in the retreat to Zurich, were in daily contact with him for months. Fouché led me to believe the general was very close to you.”

Teo took notice of his deliberate mention of the minister of police and carefully selected her words. “I understand a full-scale battle is imminent. It was a question of the archduke’s advance.”

“The archduke’s no longer in Switzerland.”

“Where is he?” Teo innocently inquired.

“I thought you might know, madame.”

“He was in Switzerland when I left for Paris.”

“Ah,” Sieyés murmured, his pale eyes chill. “And you have no contact with your husband?”

“None.”

“Your physician, Herr Mingen, was in Paris last night.”

A small shiver went down her spine; they were being watched. “He’s vastly interested in politics,” she lightly replied. “He tells me the Parisian cafés are alive with debate.”

“Are you interested in politics, madame?”

“Not in the least, Citizen Sieyés. I leave such concerns to men.”

“Will you be staying here long?”

“The general gave me leave to stay as long as I wished.”

“Does he plan on joining you soon?”

“I’m afraid the state of the war makes his plans uncertain.”

“I understand you’re with child.”

“Forgive me, Citizen, if I find that too personal a comment.” She kept her voice cordial although his grilling interrogation made her extremely nervous. He wasn’t a man to be trusted.

“Duras has a reputation for the ladies, you know.”

“His wife mentioned that. I find him devoted to his career. He’s been of great service to France, I understand.”

“He could perhaps be of greater service to his country. How would you respond to that, madame?”

“I would be pleased for him.”

“You’d be in the way.”

Certainly a blunt, misogynist delivery, Teo thought. “I see,” she said, not feeling any more explanation was required to such rudeness.

“If he’s recalled to serve his government, you could have no public role in his life.”

“You’ve made yourself perfectly clear, Citizen. Is there more on your agenda?”

“I think that will suffice for the moment,” he crisply said, rising. “Pray stay out of Paris. Fouché has orders.”

“As you wish,” she politely said.

Mingen walked into the drawing room shortly after Sieyés left and, walking to the window, watched his carriage disappear down the drive.

“You heard,” Teo said.

“He doesn’t have Talleyrand’s charm.”

“He has no charm at all. Do we leave or stay?” she inquired, alarmed by Sieyés’s ruthlessness.

“We leave tonight. He and Fouché are far too dangerous.”

“They saw you in Paris last night.”

“They saw me only when I wished them to. We’ll leave by the river after dark.”

“And they’ll cast us as spies for our flight.”

“Better than rotting in the Château d’If. Tell Tamyr to pack only a small portmanteau and it might be prudent to stay inside the house today. One can’t be certain with Fouché; he sometimes exceeds his orders. Will you manage without me today? I don’t wish to leave you in fear.”

“I’ll help Tamyr pack and take a last stroll about Andre’s home. I don’t expect Fouché to strike so quickly since they might need Andre on their side.”

“That necessity, I hope, will give us sufficient time to find more amenable surroundings. Would you consider Prussia as a temporary home?” He needed to obtain passports today and travel authorizations through the German principalities.

“Would you take me home to Siberia instead?” she quietly said, somehow in the past seconds understanding what she must do for herself and Duras.

“Could Korsakov find you there?”

“Not far back in the forests. I find the solitude appeals to me suddenly. And how would Korsakov know what happened to me in the chaos of war? I could have been killed.”

“What name would you like on your Russian passport?” Mingen asked with an understanding smile. “I could see to a fictitious death certificate as well.”

No trumpets sounded but Teo knew she’d made the right decision because a calm enveloped her as if a great struggle were over. “You’re the dearest friend, Anton,” she softly said. “Can a death certificate really be issued?” And when he nodded, it seemed for a moment as though she were invested with all the power on earth. “In that case,” she said with a warm, encompassing smile, “give me a southern name on my passport—something from Georgia. So when I cross the border no one will think of Siberia.” And then ruthless reality erased the smile from her face and
a flicker of anguish showed in her eyes. “Do you think I might see Andre before I go away?”

“Perhaps,” Mingen carefully replied, considering the possibility remote. “I’ll telegraph our plans to him, although there’s no way of knowing if he can reply.”

“I understand,” Teo said, steeling herself against the ache in her heart.

“He never thought your presence here would cause such controversy; he won’t be expecting us to return. He wasn’t aware of the newest conspiracy to gain power. With the failure of Bonaparte’s Egyptian campaign, those who wish a change of government have renewed hopes.”

“While I only hoped to wait for the birth of my child and Andre’s homecoming.”

“The course of events have overtaken us. It was a short holiday,” he said with a rueful smile.

“I don’t envy Andre working with the men who came to call. They would betray their own families.”

“Duras knows them. He knows their limitations.”

“They need him, don’t they?”

“As you saw. Each man in his own way is counting on Duras to bring him to power.”

Her expression was wistful. “Perhaps I can have Andre later when they no longer need him.”

“Take heart,” Mingen said. “He may not be interested in their proposal and you may have Duras beside you as soon as the war ends.”

“But how could Andre refuse them? He’s a man of duty and honor; his country needs such a man.” And she wondered too in the small recesses of her mind whether her callers had been correct in their assessment of Andre’s capacity for permanence in his relationships. Was she deceiving herself in thinking his love for her was more lasting than his liaisons in the past?

“We’ll see,” Mingen gently said, his own perceptions of
Duras’s political aspirations quite different. But Teo needed to be taken to safety, of that he was certain.

“Am I selfish in wishing myself away from this scrambling for power?” Teo quietly asked. “Am I deserting him?”

“It’s a matter of danger, pure and simple. Duras will understand.”

“A log home in the depths of the forest takes on a comfortable, peaceful charm.”

“Then we must see that you find it.”

They left that night, moving quietly down to the jetty on the riverbank, where Mingen helped them into a small dinghy and rowed them across to the opposite shore. A carriage was waiting at an inn nearby and by morning they were well away from Paris.

Twice they changed carriages and once they stopped overnight at an out-of-the-way village while Mingen rode to a military depot several miles away, looking for a reply to his telegram.

None had arrived.

“He’s on campaign,” Mingen said on his return. “It may not be possible to reach him.”

Five days later they were nearing Basel where they would strike out on a northern course through the principalities of Germany and Teo was suddenly overcome with a sense of panic. In her reasonable moods, she could deal with her separation from Duras, telling herself it was an honorable course—her personal feelings sacrificed to a greater good. And there were several alternate possibilities to the political cabal in Paris, she reminded herself, that would restore Duras to her. He could decline their offer; they might find another general more expedient for their plans; Duras might insist she stay with him—felicitous thought—or the war could be over soon and she could return to him. But there was no reply to Mingen’s telegram at any of the
telegram relay points on their journey east and in a day at most she would be outside French territories.

It was no longer possible to view their separation in altruistic terms when her window of opportunity was fast narrowing and she might never see him again. It was no longer possible to think benignly of leaving Duras. She wanted to ride to him wherever he was and plead with him to let her stay.

But Mingen wouldn’t agree, nor would Tamyr, nor would, ultimately, Andre. And in the portion of her brain that functioned despite her pain at losing him, she realized how unlikely it was for her to find him in the battleground of Switzerland.

Duras had been on the offensive all across Switzerland since she’d left, Mingen had told her. The French were taking back lost territory. St. Gotthard had been recaptured; Glaris and Lucerne were theirs again, and the Austrian pickets at Zurich had been withdrawn nearer the city. Duras was never in one location for long.

And when Basel came into view that afternoon, she almost broke into tears. They’d stay the night and in the morning begin their journey north.

The hotel stood on the banks of the Rhine, the room Mingen arranged for her beautiful and large with a balcony overlooking the river. The setting sun gleamed off the buildings across the river, the medieval town looking as if it were cast in gold. A peaceful beauty infused the scene. The war hadn’t intruded yet on this border town.

How close she was to him on the frontier of Switzerland and yet how impossibly far with no imaginable way to reach him.

Where could he be? she wondered. At least he was alive, she comforted herself; news of his death would have been abroad in the town. There was solace in knowing he lived, there was hope.

She sat at the window until the sunset gave way to evening
and the first stars appeared in the sky. And when Tamyr came in to coax her to bed, she complied like a docile child, but she didn’t sleep. She lay awake counting the church bells on the quarter hour, repeating the litany of strokes in a singsong silent chant of lament—never … never … never again—on each vibration, thinking she would die of her pain.

She’d considered herself beyond sorrow and desolation—accepting, surrendering to the circumstances; she’d believed self-denial and honor would sustain her.

But she was wrong.

The sound of horsemen riding fast came faintly to her ears at first, the reverberation intensifying as she listened, horseshoes on cobblestone a distinctive rhythm. The increasing uproar brought the hotel staff to wakefulness as it rolled through the town on the hill and swept down to the river. Teo heard doors slamming shut and footsteps running up and down the stairs. The torches were lit suddenly on the façade, their flickering shadows reflected on the river.