They would be in the cemetery until well after supper, he suspected. It was a task they needed to complete by day’s end so that his father’s body could be returned and left undisturbed.

“We have our work cut out for us.” Ben gestured toward the collecting items.

Remi touched his arm and shared a sweet smile. “We certainly do.”

“We’ll have to catalog and label everything,” he said.

Jacques groaned.

Remi seemed excited by the idea. “Then we certainly won’t be bored.”

Ben nodded his agreement.

After everything, they wanted to make certain that the “treasure” his relatives had stolen and collected, would find their rightful homes. It would not hurt to have a pretty penny as some form of reward. In fact, it was almost necessary if they were to restore the family home.

“That reminds me,” Ben reached into the breast pocket of his vest and produced the envelope that Lamotte first gave him, “I have a letter to read.”

“You found it?” Jacques asked, shocked.

“Marceau returned it.” Ben unfolded it carefully. “Our clever friend Sylvie stole this out from under me, it seems. May she rest in peace.”

Remi sucked in a breath. “I wonder why.”

“She must have been under instruction to take anything she noted of import,” he said. “I can only imagine that she would have eventually handed it over to Arnaud.”

Remi quieted. He did not have to guess at what she must have been thinking. If only Sylvie had opened up to them, they could have helped her escape her fate.

“Go on then,” Remi whispered with a gentle touch on his arm.

Ben turned it over in his hands, once again, and for the final time, acknowledging his father’s signature. Jacques and Remi waited as he broke the seal, practically on edge as he produced two pieces of paper.

“Is that a check?” Jacques asked.

Ben nodded wordlessly. His jaw nearly dropped. It was a check made out to Remi, with a sum that caught him completely by surprise. He passed it to her.

She was instantly worried. “What could this be for?”

Behind the check was a folded piece of paper. He unfolded it to a sea of sprawling words written in his father’s unique hand.

Dearest Ben,

I am entrusting this note to you in the hopes that it will find its rightful owner, Mademoiselle Remi.

It is the total collection of sums from her uncle; the other half of her dowry, which he kept hidden from me, and extra from his allowance. I devised a hasty, reckless plan to expose his scheme to acquire funds that did not belong to him. My intention was to give her some semblance of freedom from the people who would have been rid of her for less.

Ben, if you are reading this, I hope that you will forgive an old man for his foolishness. I should never have sent you away. After your mother and your sister, I was desperate to keep you alive. My fears won out in the end. It was a cruel thing to do in the midst of your grieving. The failures are my own burden to bear, and I will carry them in life and well after. I am merely hopeful that this finds you in good health, and that you are home, where you belong.

Please tell Mademoiselle Remi that her company brought me joy. Because of her, our home had warmth again. I hope that she may shine a light in those old and darkened halls for many years.

With Undying Love,

Your Father

P.S. Please tell Lamotte that he has been instrumental, and an excellent friend.

When Ben finished the letter, he was surprised to find a weight lifted from his shoulders. He could feel the damage from the last sixteen years, spent far away from home, chipping away. It was an incredible relief.

“God rest Lamotte’s soul,” Jacques said, lowering his head in respect.

“Edgar shouldn’t have.” Remi sniffed. Her nose was red and tears brimmed in her eyes.

“But he did,” Ben said.

Jacques crossed his arms. “Do you think he knew he might die pursuing Arnaud?”

“He might have.”

His father’s plan was bordering on mad, but he’d followed through on something he intended to finish. It was a short letter that brought solace, but it also left them wanting more. Ben would have liked to know about the valuables hidden under the mausoleum, and just how his father knew; how he’d found it soon enough to mention it in his will.

Or had he known all along and kept it a secret? He wondered.

“It was too good of him,” Remi sniffed again.

Ben took the check from her shaking fingers and put it back in the envelope with the letter. Tucking it inside his jacket, he brought Remi into his arms. She folded around him.

“If you two are going to nestle up like a couple of lovebirds,” Jacques groaned, “then I’ll excuse myself. If you need me, I’ll be dragging more dusty crates up the steps.”

Ben chuckled.

“What do we do now?” Remi asked after a few comfortable, quiet moments.

“As you said, there is plenty to do.”

She looked into his eyes, resting her chin softly against his chest. “I mean, what shall we do first?”

Ben purred, “We shall open a bottle of wine.”

“And then?”

Ben leaned down, grazing his lips along her ear. He felt her shiver as his breath skirted across her neck. He nipped at her smooth skin and grinned when she jumped.

“Ben!” Remi’s hands pressed to his shoulders, bracing herself against his sturdy build.

“The rest,” he murmured, “we’ll leave to the wine.”

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

This book was a labor of love for the last four years. I started writing during Covid and took a long break from it during the time after. I'm so glad I came back to this book and made it happen! I couldn't have done it without my amazing support system.