Mary Blayney

by Traitors Kiss; Lovers Kiss

It was not until Georges closed the door that Charlotte spoke. Odd, Gabriel thought. Was there someone else in the house they needed to fool? Or someone else they needed to protect?

  “Georges, would you please show our guest to the second-floor bedchamber in the front of the house?”

  Her voice was neither the toneless mouse nor the flamboyant Charlotte. Even as he considered what that might mean, Georges moved to obey her. Gabriel shook his head, stepping farther into the room. He folded his arms across his chest. “May I remind you, madame, that we are together until I am in England.”

  “It is as I said before,” the woman spoke, sounding more reasonable than Charlotte had. “The less you know, the safer we all are.”

  “Be that as it may,” he bowed to her slightly, “I will not be led away. A struggle would gain the attention of everyone in the house. You can only accept my word that your safety will not be compromised.”

  She closed her eyes for a long moment and he felt not one bit of remorse for making her task more difficult.

  He could see Georges moving about the room as if to light more candles. Gabriel kept turning to keep him in sight, sure that the man would be willing to knock him unconscious to accommodate his mistress’s wish. In the end it was as it had been in the prison. Charlotte was between the two of them.

  “Exactly what are you going to do, my lord?” Charlotte asked as she turned to face him. Her curiosity was sincere, judging by the confusion in her eyes. “Call for help? In my house? Leave and find your way back to Madame Rostine’s or to the soldiers at the tavern?”

  “I have no plan, other than to cause turmoil.” He looked at Georges and then at Charlotte. “It would endanger not only me, but whoever else might be in residence.”

  He let them consider his ultimatum for no more than a moment. “I know you must devise a new plan, and in the worst case you would sacrifice me to save your people. I will not be separated from you.”

  “Oh all right,” she said with a sharpness that made her sound like a wife annoyed beyond endurance.

  Gabriel nodded and leaned against the wall. He had what he wanted. He knew when to be quiet.

  “I am sorry, Georges,” she said. It was her apology that convinced Gabriel the man was more than servant. “We do not have the time to make him do as we want. Last night was rife with complications, but it has convinced me that he has every wish to see home.”

  “As you wish, madame.” Georges nodded and turned to Gabriel. “If we are trapped I assure you that you will be the first of us to meet your maker and our secrets will die with you.”

  It was far from a welcome into the inner circle. More like a giant step into a pit of snakes.

  10

  THANK YOU, GEORGES,” Charlotte said, her face as implacable as her servant’s.

  Did she thank him for his promise to kill? That puts me in my place.

  “You are welcome, as always, madame.”

  “Tell me what happened last night.” Charlotte pulled off her gloves. She walked to the settee but did not sit down. She clasped her hands, giving Georges her full attention.

  “When the soldiers came to the beach I knew you would not be coming.” Georges turned his back on Gabriel. “I gave the signal to the decoy and then talked to the soldiers awhile, long enough for me to allay their suspicions that I was there to assist in an escape.” He rubbed his hands together. “I spoke to them and convinced them that I was sleeping on the boat after an argument with my wife.”

  “Only a man would consider sleeping on that scow of yours.” She shook her head as though erasing an unpleasant memory. “It smells of dead fish.”

  “Merci, madame,” he said, as if it was the greatest compliment. “After we shared a bottle I directed their attention to a boat making its way from the harbor. I mentioned that it was unusual for someone to leave in the middle of the night.”

  “Very good.”

  “It was a fine idea, madame, to hire the other boat as a distraction. It served a purpose, even if it was not the one we anticipated.”

  “And the man thinks he was aiding an elopement?”

  “Yes, and if he has been questioned, then he can tell the truth and that will keep him safe from the soldiers.”

  She nodded.

  “I left to fish at first light and made my way back early, my empty boat proving the fishing was poor. I thought it was an adequate excuse, though no one asked.”

  “Very good,” she said again, nodding with satisfaction. “We will have to adjust our plan. He will come with us. He will take your part and play the wounded soldier,” she said, nodding to Gabriel. “If anyone should ask, we will say that he has a grievous head wound, was once a fisherman and we are taking him out to sea in an effort to remind him of it. His family is depending on him.”

  Georges nodded. “I will see to it, madame.”

  “We can be convincing as friend and family, I think.”

  She was only revealing the meanest of details. What was left unsaid?

  “You, Georges, will become his partner in the fishing venture. That will be the only change. Can it be that simple? Do you see any flaws?”

  Georges considered the question for a long moment. “It will work.” He eyed Gabriel. “The children are the key to making it convincing.”

  Charlotte nodded.

  “Children?” Gabe straightened. “What do children have to do with this?”

  “As I said, we will be posing as a family down on our luck.” Charlotte spoke slowly. Did she think he did not understand?

  “Are you telling me,” Gabriel said, not bothering to hide his shock, “that you are going to endanger children to make our vignette more convincing?”

  “They will not be endangered.” Charlotte shook her head as she spoke. She turned from him to pick up her gloves.

  “This discussion is not over, Charlotte.”

  “What else is there to say?” She turned to him again, her face a mask of indifference. “If we are discovered, they will be returned to an orphanage.”

  “And if we do escape?”

  “The children will be better off in England than in an orphanage here.” She walked toward the window. She straightened the drapes. Then she moved on to the first wall sconce and blew out the candle.

  “You are heartless,” he said with emphasis. He looked at Georges, whose face was as unreadable as ever. “Lives cannot be played with, surely you understand that. Unless you have an orphanage in England that needs more children?”

  “Now you are being ridiculous.” Her voice was sharp with denial.

  “I do not need to know you well to understand that you have been too long from an honest life if you think to use children to further your ends.”

  “I do not need you as my conscience, my lord. I do what needs to be done, for reasons you cannot even imagine.” She moved to the next sconce. Her back was straight. Her shoulders were tense.

  “Then tell me your reasons, Charlotte. I want to see you as something other than a cold-blooded bitch.”

  “That is precisely what I am, and you would do well to remember it.” She whirled to face him as she spoke.

  He had never in his life used that word to describe a woman. It did not seem to faze her in the slightest.

  “We will have something to eat now and I will tell you what we are going to do next.” She moved toward the door. Gabriel took a step to block her exit.

  “What orphanage will give you children without question?”

  “We are in the midst of war and there are children who lose their parents every day. There are women who would sell their children rather than feed them. I can send Georges to hire two off the street and he will be back with them in the time it takes you to shave and change your clothes.”

  It disgusted him even as he admitted it was true. It would be easier than buying a horse. He shook his head. “I am not worth that kind of sacrifice.”

  “That may be. But what your brother is willing to pay me is worth almost
anything.”

  “Almost? I am relieved to hear that you do have limits.”

  “Yes. I do.” She said it quietly, almost whispering it.

  As before, he saw in her eyes what her stance hid. Regret. More than regret, he saw shame.

  His shock faded in the light of her honesty. “If I want to see home, I must accept your choice.”

  She nodded and stepped closer to the door. He stopped her with a raised hand. “I will have my say. Knowledge brings power. It also brings responsibility. Now that I know what your plan is, I tell you that I will not sacrifice children even for my freedom or for your wealth. If something goes wrong, I will put them first. Before you, Georges, myself or any man who would harm them.”

  Charlotte looked at Georges with a slight smile. He drew on his pipe.

  “This is not a choice, Charlotte. If it is that hard to accept, then you might as well end it here before anyone is put in more danger.”

  “No, sir, on this we agree completely.” With a look over her shoulder she included Georges in the statement. He nodded. Once.

  “Then I will rely on your judgment.”

  “As I must rely on your cooperation.”

  Relying did not mean trusting, he reminded himself.

  “Come,” she said. “You must be hungry.”

  Gabriel did not need Georges at his back to encourage him to follow her. Yes, he was hungry. In fact, hunger was too mild a word. Last night’s bread and cheese had reminded his stomach that there was food worth eating.

  Some unseen hand had left soup on the hob. There was a fresh loaf of bread on the table.

  “Who takes care of this house and never shows himself? Or is it the cat?”

  The tom stretched its length near enough to the hearth to feel the heat. It leapt up and came to Charlotte as they sat down.

  “Georges is a man of many talents.”

  An answer that was not an answer. Hadn’t Georges been fishing all night?

  They both ate. Gabriel listened while Charlotte spoke between dainty spoonfuls of the chicken stew. Georges did not sit with them. He stood near the door, smoking his pipe.

  “Do you remember that Raoul made me promise to come to him?”

  Gabriel nodded.

  “I must go to Aux Trois Oiseaux. Alone.” She set down her spoon and reached for the bread.

  “I will not be separated from you.”

  “Nonsense. For one hour.”

  “Five minutes would be too long.”

  “Monsieur,” Georges said, “you will let her go or I will knock you unconscious and tie you to the chair so she can do as she wishes. It is what I should have done earlier.”

  It was quite a speech for Georges. Gabriel raised his hands in mock surrender. “All right,” he said, and surprised them all. “It will give me a chance to become better acquainted with you.”

  Even Georges smiled a little at that absurdity.

  “I will change and leave now,” Charlotte said as she stood and scooped up the cat at her feet. She left through the door that opened into the hallway.

  Gabriel watched the door, willing her to come back. He had a thousand questions. He turned his attention to Georges. Now, there was a challenge.

  Gabe sat back and laced his hands across his stomach. “I notice that she never addresses me by name when you are with us. Why?”

  As expected, Georges did not answer but only shrugged his shoulders.

  “Which means that you do not know either.” Gabe looked down for a moment and then spoke his conclusion aloud. “She protects you.”

  Georges narrowed his eyes and pulled out his pipe and lit it with one quick movement. Gabe straightened in his chair, pleased to see a reaction. “She cannot collect her money or complete her work from prison.”

  Or if she is dead, Gabriel silently added. He looked down at his empty bowl. “But I am her work here, am I not?” Gabe asked, raising his hands as he did so. “I am the cash prize.”

  Georges shrugged.

  Gabe was learning to read those Gallic shrugs. Not in the movement of the shoulders; he read the facial expression that went with it. Georges’s shrug meant probably.

  “It is as much about protection as it is about money, isn’t it? Does she protect you and me to protect herself or out of concern for our safety? Do you think she would be willing to die for you as recompense for guilt? Or for love?” Gabriel waited, but it was clear that conversation with Georges was at an end.

  As he considered love with its urge to protect and defend and guilt with its endless rhythm of pain and regret, he did one thing he had wanted to do since Charlotte left the room. He pulled her near-full bowl of stew from across the table and picked up her untouched bread.

  11

  AUX TROIS OISEAUX was busy. Charlotte stood at the top of the three steps that led down into the tavern and surveyed the crowd, seeing no one unexpected or suspicious.

  Beyond the groups talking and smoking, she saw Raoul in the back corner, playing cards with three other officers. Judging by the coins in front of him, he was winning, as usual.

  Very good, she thought.

  She flirted her way through the room, avoiding the two prostitutes who were working the other corners. By the time she reached Raoul’s table she had no doubt that he knew she was there. His surprise at seeing her convinced everyone but her.

  “Charlotte!” He moved over on the bench seat. “Sit down and bring me luck.”

  She gestured to the coins in front of him. “You have luck without me, mon capitaine.” She leaned across his arm as if pretending to count the coins, letting her breasts rub against his arm. “I would prefer to help you spend some of it.”

  His compatriots laughed as Raoul promptly stood up. He left coins for a round of drinks while Charlotte made her usual arrangement with the owner.

  The room one flight up was a far cry from Rostine’s, but the best that Aux Trois Oiseaux had to offer. With his winnings Raoul could afford to have it for one hour.

  Its greatest virtue was the fireplace and two chairs that made it appropriate for more than an evening tryst. The bed itself was large and inviting and, as Charlotte well knew, comfortable and free from bugs.

  Raoul preceded her into the room, already unbuttoning his jacket as Charlotte closed the door. Before the latch dropped, there was a knock and she opened it again to accept a tray with a carafe of wine and two glasses.

  Charlotte set the tray on the table, draped her shawl on the back of a chair and turned so Raoul could unlace her dress. She let it slide down her arms and loosened her front fastening stays.

  Raoul watched her as he sat and poured wine for each of them. Leaving her stays loose, Charlotte sat in the other chair.

  “Thank you for the warning last night, mon ami.” Charlotte reached for her glass, sipped the dry red wine and wished she had eaten a little more before leaving the house.

  “You are welcome, Charlotte. Though I wish you would not persist in creating more work for me. You must have known that they would have all of us out looking for the damned prisoner.”

  “Yes, but I hardly thought they could have enough soldiers to search and guard the harbor. More are coming from the front every day.” She wondered if that meant that this war would end soon. Was it information the government could use?

  He sipped his wine and did not confirm or deny what she said.

  “The one you were with last night. Is he the man we are looking for?”

  It was her turn to neither confirm nor deny.

  “I did give some thought to arresting him and leaving you as the innocent.” He stretched his legs out in front of him and crossed them at the ankles. “But then I deduced that if I played my role that convincingly and he was the one, you might not be paid.”

  “You have been at this too long, Raoul,” Charlotte said, ignoring this second attempt to wheedle information from her. “I worry that you are beginning to believe that you are a French military officer.”

  “Says a wo
man who has played her part so long that she has convinced herself she is a prostitute.”

  “Touché.”

  “Not that I haven’t appreciated your enthusiasm for the role. That dress is as provocative as the body it covers.” He took some wine, his eyes holding hers over the rim.

  She felt color in her cheeks and wondered where in the world the blush had come from. “Stop trying to distract me.” She said it with a smile, and then turned serious. “You are becoming careless and I cannot afford to lose you.”

  Raoul was quiet a long time. “You are right, Charlotte, it is time for me to go home.” He put the wine down. “But you see, I have no home to go to. No employment. No skills for which anyone would pay an honest wage.” He stared into the fire as he spoke, as if he could pretend he was alone and merely thinking out loud.

  “You have no family?” She asked the question quietly, well aware that he had never spoken of his life in England. His silence was more than she expected. He had not said, “No.”

  “You can always come to me, Raoul.”

  “Thank you, Charlotte.” He abandoned his consideration of the fire and gave her his complete attention, shaking his head. “We both know that would not work. We were never meant to be lovers. We are too alike on the outside and much too different at our core.”

  “Yes, I know, but what I meant is that you could work for me at home in Sussex. There is always so much that needs to be done. And the boys so need a tutor who is as clever as they are.”

  “No, I could not work for you. Teach four boys and none of them older than ten years? I think not. Besides, we may not belong together but I am not immune to your charms, ma chérie.”

  “Thank you. I think.”

  He raised his glass to her in an unspoken toast, and then shifted in his seat. She could almost see him push the too personal discussion out of his mind and return to the subject at hand.

  “There is a good chance that I will be sent to the front before you come back.”

  Charlotte put her glass down and closed her eyes.

  “Oh, do not worry. I will not actually go there. It will be the ideal moment for Captain Raoul Desseau to disappear.”