Where Voices Speak Out

The Comtesse de Rochefort slid the case in front of the waiting SS Officer.

"Open it," he ordered. Ice blue eyes studied the elgant woman's every move with absolutely no amusement evident within them anywhere.

Francoise gave a slight sigh and slid the clasps of the alligator luggage open. Pushing back the lid, she revealed to the German officer a complete suite of heirloom jewelry that glittered brightly in the low light of le grande bibliothèque. The diamonds and pigeon's blood rubies had been in the Rochefort family for centuries. There was a heavy tiara, an ornate necklace that had ages ago adored the neck of a Mughal Maharanni and every single Comtesse of this district in France since the time of Charlemagne. The earrings, bracelets and brooches, hairpins and countless other treasures were meticulously and perfectly matched, priceless to the family. Now they were to be surrendered to German hands. Fracoise's heart ached dully with having to part with them, but she knew that such were the times they were living in.

"If Sebastien were alive he would kill me rather than see these lost to the four winds," her tone was sad, edged with the inevitable finality that only war could bring. She pulled her black sweater tighter to herself. "I trust they will make it to their destination safely." It was not a question so much as a statement and was meant more of a reassurance to herself as much as it was a warning to the SS Colonel Robert Grayson, who was also called Dieter Haag among his men.

"If Sebastien were alive, Frances, I doubt any of this would be necessary," he said closing the case again and locking it. Don't worry. I will see that these reach Switzerland. I will let you know as soon as they are safe."

"Safe..." the words died in the room and Francoise nodded. Her dark and lovely features were looking pinched and the occupation was beginning to take its toll. "Will that be before you reach Africa?"

"Before," he donned his cap and straightened the collar of his jacket before putting on his leather coat once more. "I probably won't see you for at least a year or two. I join Rommel in Egypt in two weeks."

Shaking her head she turned toward an immense window and looked out over the gardens and to the approach road beyond. "You should not be telling me that, ma ami," she said. "The Reich would frown on you being so familiar with one of the French."

In spite of the friendship borne years before this war or the one before it began, the whole situation and being regarded as a collaborator by some made Francoise de Rochefort uneasy. But she would never show her trepidation to any but him. The quiet dignity of the Comtesse had to show through. The morale of the entire village rested upon what the lady of la Grande Chateau in Rochefort du-Gard would do. So far they had been protected. But the protection was an uneasy one.

Colonel Grayson moved toward the door and gave his longtime friend a perfunctory nod and click of his heels. "Nevertheless, you will hear form me soon," he said, "Au revoir, Francoise."

"Au revoir et bon journee," she gave him a wan smile and then turned back to the window. Goodbyes were always hard but inevitable in times like these. Her eyes settled on a vehicle that was making its way up the approach road toward the Chateau de Rochefort, "Hopefully it's not Rommel that is coming t meet you now," Francoise cracked.

The SS Colonel did not seem at all concerned with the impending arrival, "Whether it is Rommel or Hitler Himself, I cannot wait any longer." He took her hand and gave it a kiss. "Give the girls my regards Frances and apologise that I could not be here when they return from their lessons."

"Jocelyn will be furious with you," the Comtesse said.

"Yes," he smiled, "but my little fiance' will wait for my return, no doubt."

It was a private joke between Grayson and the de Rocheforts. The youngest daughter, Jocelyn, at the tender age of four announced in front of an entire ballroom of important guests that she as the heiress and a Princess in her own right, was going to grow up and make Robert Grayson her husband. Even among the titters of laughter from the other guests, Colonel Grayson had found the pronouncement both amusing and endearing and he never contradicted his godaughter on the topic. After making her proclaimation, Jocelyn then clambered into his arms, claiming her territory and promptly fell asleep. There she stayed for the rest of the evening, Grayson neither giving her up that night, nor Jocelyn ever giving up her resolve to marry her mother's oldest friend.

With that, Colonel Robert Grayson went out of the library, through the Great Hall and outside to the circular drive in front of the Chateau where his car was waiting. Francoise was not far behind and gave him a small wave which he returned by touching the bill of his cap in salute, the precious cargo having been safely locked away in the trunk of the car. Within moments, Robert Grayson and his driver were heading away from the Chateau toward the airfield at Toulouse. She could not see from her vantage point if the two vehicles met on the approach road or merely passed each other.

Be that as it may, she mused, there was a new visitor arriving now, one whom she certainly was not expecting. She had to make certain that Robert and the jewels were not intercepted. And went outside to greet the visitors who had just arrived on her doorstep.




Muse: Francoise de Rochefort
Fandom: Original Character
Word Count: 970

Many thanks to both civ_barbarian and his amazing scribe for allowing me to include him in this storyline.