The Forbidden Rose

Forty-seven

MARGUERITE SAID, “THEY’LL BE SAFE. EVERYONE who leads them has done this, or something like this, before.”

“You have interesting friends,” Guillaume said.

The last of Justine’s smugglers departed, taking with them the last of the prisoners—a dark-haired Polish man, a quivering seamstress, and a tight-lipped, frightened counter-revolutionary from Nantes.

La Flèche would be busy for weeks, spiriting this many men and women out of Paris.

Voices became a scratching on the surface of the silence and then silence itself. The great cavern was empty. Now it belonged to Guillaume and to her. Candles burned at the far edges of the stone galleries, small lights left behind, floating in the darkness. In a few hours, they would burn down and flicker out, one by one, and the dark would come back.

“You’re cold. Every part of you is cold to the bone.” He touched her face. Her upper arms.

“A little chilled. I don’t feel it.” There had been no time in the noise and confusion of the rescue to hold him. Now she did. She pulled close to him and pressed to his chest. She did it carefully, because he had been hurt. The first men to descend the ladder in the well shaft had come out speaking of Guillaume. How he had given them their lives and how he had been beaten in prison.

He stroked her hair. Soft. Soft. Tucking it behind her ears where it had come loose.

“Victor hurt you. Everyone heard it happening.” She drew away from him to look down at his body. Her hand hovered over his ribs, without touching them. “I wasn’t fast enough to spare you this.”

“My own fault, for getting arrested. If I hadn’t walked off and left you alone with him it wouldn’t have happened. I should have kept you with me. Protected you.”

“I am pleased to be protected, as any woman would be. But it also happens I am well able to decide when I shall go to my own house and when I will be carried off by a handsome seller of political texts.”

“You can do any damn thing you decide to.” He put his hands down upon her shoulders. “Keep away from Cousin Victor. He knows you’re in La Flèche.”

That was hard news, though it explained Victor’s behavior, which had puzzled her. “He knows and you know and your colleague Hawker as well and these many odd men who came to take the sparrows away. I am utterly revealed. If I were one of my couriers I would send myself to England.”

“If you don’t, Victor’s going to try to lock you up someplace to keep you from making trouble for him. He might have worse in mind. There’s not much I’d put past him.”

“That is what Jean-Paul says. He says that Victor poisoned me with foxglove leaves.”

Guillaume’s hold tightened. “I’ll have to make sure he doesn’t do that again, won’t I?”

“You sound very threatening, I think, but I shall handle my Cousin Victor. It was the night I was so sick and came to find you in the café—that night—I drank some of a tisane Victor brought me. But I withhold judgment in the matter. I do not say Victor would not poison me, because he is a man lacking the most elementary scruples, but there is no real proof that—”

He kissed her, swiftly. Claiming her mouth, once, and letting go. “I’m going to kill him.”

“It is a thoughtful offer, but no. I have no proof, only guesses and the evidence of his character. If one set about murdering all the men who are without scruple, one would depopulate Europe. Let us instead go find hot coffee and a bed. As it happens, I have never gone to bed with a married man.”

He continued to hold her and look at her, his face serious. “Why did you stay here in the quarries all night?”

He knew very well why she had stayed. “I was waiting for you. I will always be waiting for you.”

“You . . .” He breathed out. “Damn.”

She had deprived him of speech. That was satisfying. She said, “Make love to me.”

He shook his head. “Not here. Not underground. And I’m filthy.”

“Then we will go somewhere else and wash you. Then we will make love.” She picked up the end of the twine that would lead them out of the dark. Poulet’s coat was lined with silk and smelled of musk. She put it around Guillaume’s shoulders to keep him warm and they left the dark.