by Jane Feather
“I own I’m starving,” she said. “Did you eat?”
“While we were waiting for you to come in out of the cold,” he said, a trifle drily. “However, the eggs are for you. Sit there, drink this, and don’t move.” He poured wine for her, set it in front of her, and went to the range.
“Can you cook, too?” she asked with mock surprise. “It seems there’s no end to your accomplishments, sir.”
“You don’t know the half of them,” he responded, breaking the eggs into a bowl.
“Then I can’t wait to discover the rest,” she murmured with a suggestive smile, for the moment forgetting that they were not alone. The fierceness of William’s silencing scowl reminded her with a sharp shock, and she felt herself blush, burying her nose in her wineglass even as she thought with a touch of defiance that it could hardly matter if their companions knew of their intimacy. It was no one’s business but their own. Alec might be entitled to an opinion, but he certainly wouldn’t judge his twin or challenge William to a duel to defend his sister’s honor. She suppressed her laughter at the latter thought, reflecting that in present circumstances, the still-scowling William would certainly consider it unseemly levity.
It was strange that he should have this prudish streak, she thought. He seemed such an adventurer, a man prepared to take life on its own terms even as he steered for his own true north. A deep yawn suddenly overtook her, and her eyelids drooped as a wave of sleepiness swept over her.
“Here, eat this, and then you can sleep.” William set a plate before her. She glanced up at him with a tentative smile and was relieved when he returned it, saying lightly, “I trust my omelet meets with your approval, madame.”
“It looks perfect.” She took up her fork and pierced the golden brown exterior. It tasted as good as it looked, delicately flavored with herbs.
“You and Marie Claire will share the bedchamber on the top floor,” William continued. “I’ll take the first watch. Marcus, you can take over in four hours.”
Marcus nodded. “Do you expect trouble?”
“I don’t know.” William spoke thoughtfully. “But I have a feeling that they’re close, and we can’t afford to be taken unaware. I want to assume that whoever was following Hero did indeed lose her, but I’m not prepared to take any risks, so we leave at first light.”
“All together?” Stephen asked.
“No, in twos. We’ll rendezvous at Châtelet and go down together to take the underground route out of the city.”
Marcus grimaced. “I suppose we must, but it’s a loathsome route.”
“We haven’t had time to make preparations for a more conventional exit,” William pointed out.
“Marie Claire needs clothes.” Hero scraped up the last of her omelet.
“Yes . . . she’ll have to wear the britches and shirt you were wearing. You’ll stay dressed as you are.”
“At least they’re washed,” Hero observed.
“Believe me, dear girl, in these circumstances, it would almost be better if they weren’t,” William stated.
“No, indeed,” Marcus agreed with a grim smile.
Hero looked puzzled, but before she could ask for enlightenment, Alec stood up with Marie Claire in his arms. “She’s asleep. I’ll carry her upstairs. Come with me, Hero. I won’t leave her alone.”
“No, of course not.” Hero got up from the table instantly. She glanced a little ruefully at William. There was nothing to be done, of course, but she had hoped they would be spending the night together. His eyebrows flicked upwards in amused comprehension, and she felt a touch of resentment that he should treat her obvious disappointment so lightly.
With a cool good-night, she followed Alec out of the kitchen and upstairs. He laid his burden gently on the tumbled bed, and Hero moved swiftly to rearrange the coverlets over the sleeping girl.
Alec smoothed Marie Claire’s hair before straightening. “I’m guessing your plans for the night have been disrupted.” He regarded his sister with narrowed eyes. “Are you sure it’s wise? William Ducasse is no Tom.”
“If he were, I wouldn’t find him attractive,” Hero responded, her voice, like his, barely above a whisper. “Any man who could be in any way compared to Tom would . . . would be anathema. I couldn’t abide the possibility of making comparisons, Alec. William is so different, and, well . . .” She shrugged. “He suits my present mood. I find him exciting, invigorating. Life seems worth living again.”
“Then I have no more to say on the subject.” Alec smiled at her, although his green eyes still contained the touch of concern they had held since the news of Tom’s loss. He looked back at the sleeping girl and gave a deep, worried sigh. “Dear God, I don’t know how Marie Claire will hold up on the journey. She’s so weak.”
“I think you’ll find her stronger than you believe,” Hero said softly. “She has survived all these months in hell. A good sleep and some decent food will do wonders.”
“I hope you’re right.” He bent and kissed his sister’s cheek. “Don’t leave her, will you? I couldn’t bear her to wake and not know where she is.”
“Don’t worry, love, I won’t let that happen. Now, go and get some rest yourself. I have a feeling that tomorrow’s not going to be an easy day.”
Alec shook his head. “That’s for sure. But call me at once if Marie Claire needs me.”
“I will do.” She shooed him out of the chamber and sank onto the bed to take off her shoes, swamped once more with invincible weariness as she undressed. She was about to slip naked into bed beside Marie Claire when the door opened softly and William stepped in, closing it softly behind him.
His gaze ran over Hero’s naked form, poised with one knee on the bed as she prepared to get in. “Oh, dear,” he said softly. “That really isn’t fair, you know.”
“What isn’t?” Her fatigue seemed to diminish as she read the lascivious look in his eyes.
“You know quite well. For the love of God, get under the covers.”
Hero chuckled softly but obliged. It was not fair for either of them to continue a game they could not possibly conclude.
“I came up for my jerkin.” He went to the chest for the garment and then walked to the window, looking down on the street far below. “I wish I knew where they were.”
“You don’t really think I led them here, do you?” She sat up in bed, hugging her drawn-up knees.
“It doesn’t matter if you did. It was going to happen sooner or later,” he responded with a dismissive gesture. “We’ve already overstayed in this house for safety’s sake. Usually, we move every couple of weeks, but we’ve been busier than usual just recently. They seem to have stepped up the rate of executions, and it’s as much as we can do to get one family out a week. And now . . .”
He didn’t finish his sentence, and after a moment, she prompted, “And now?”
“And now we have to get out of the country for a while. I am convinced we have the Lizard’s attention, and once he sets his mind to a certain quarry, he doesn’t rest until he has it in the net. I’m not so altruistic that I’m prepared to stay in the dragon’s den and offer my head on a platter.”
Hero shivered and drew the cover up tighter beneath her chin. “No. So you’ll come to England with us?”
“For a while.” He turned back from the window. “Which means that we leave a host of people with no hope of rescue.” His expression was dark, his eyes unreadable.
“You cannot take responsibility for every one of them, William,” she said softly. “No one could expect you to feel that you must.”
“Maybe not.” He shook his head briskly. “But I do, nevertheless.” He snuffed the single candle, but bright moonlight lit the room through the unshuttered window. “Someone will wake you before dawn. Can you help Marie Claire get dressed?”
“Of course.”
“Good . . . then
we will leave at first light. You, me, Alec, and Marie Claire.”
“But isn’t that too many of us together? You said we would go in pairs.”
“Alec cannot manage Marie Claire alone.” He put his hand on the door latch.
“Then you accompany them, and I will make my own way.”
“Oh, no, that you won’t . . . not after this afternoon,” he said firmly. “We’ll all go together, and you, my dear Hero, will play your part exactly as I direct. Understood?” His eyes held hers with unmistakable determination.
“If you insist, sir,” she said with feigned meekness, fluttering her eyelashes at him.
His eyes narrowed. “Tread lightly, my dear. You’re on perilous ground.”
Hero merely chuckled. “I bid you good night, sir.” She slid down beneath the covers as William opened the door, his own good-night hanging for a moment in the air before the door closed behind him.
TEN
They were like rats, just like the huge sewer rats scurrying through the evil darkness. Hero suppressed a shudder of revulsion as she splashed barefoot through the foul-smelling water of the underground stream, careful to keep her hands from touching the slimy walls on either side. No one spoke, all unwilling to open their mouths to take in the filthy air any more than they had to. She breathed only when she had no choice. Alec was just in front of her, supporting Marie Claire, who struggled to keep her footing and gamely tried to keep herself from leaning too much weight upon Alec, who was having his own difficulties keeping his balance.
William came behind Hero, holding aloft a pitch torch that sent the eerie shadows of the little procession climbing the concave walls of the tunnel. It illuminated the rats but also served to send them scurrying into the shadows ahead.
It was hard to believe that above them lay the city, with its shrieking mobs and yelling vendors, the broad, dark waters of the Seine and the great buildings and wide spaces, the thronged crooked alleyways and narrow medieval streets. They were in the underbelly of one of the greatest cities in the world, the place where the glittering grandeur of palaces and grand hôtels of the aristocracy excreted their waste into the underground streams that crisscrossed the metropolis.
They had been walking through the reeking stream for so long that Hero had lost track of the time. She knew they had five miles of these waterways to traverse before they would emerge beyond the city walls at the river, and until then, there was nothing to be done but to put one foot in front of the other and try not to think of what she was walking through.
Marcus led the little procession, holding his own pitch torch high. He disappeared around a corner, and when Hero turned it herself, she saw that the group had stopped on what looked like a makeshift beach at the side of the sewer stream. She stepped out of the water onto relatively dry ground with a sigh of relief. Alec held Marie Claire close to him, supporting her weight.
William stepped up beside Hero. “Is the skiff here, Marcus?” His voice sounded unnaturally loud after the silence of the last hour.
“Aye, we’re in luck.” Marcus stepped gingerly around the huddled group and came over to William. “It’s tied to a stake just a few yards ahead. I reckon it’ll just hold Alec and the girl.”
“Good . . . she can’t go any farther under her own steam.” He spoke softly to Alec. “You and Marie Claire will take the skiff. There’s a paddle of sorts. Just follow the stream, and it will take you to the grating at the end. Leave it unlatched for us.”
“Hero should go with her in the skiff, not me,” Alec declared.
“No,” Hero stated firmly. “You’ll be better paddling the boat than I will be. I’m perfectly all right as I am.”
“I don’t want the women going alone, and Hero’s perfectly strong enough to keep walking.” William’s decisive tone settled the matter.
“Yes, tough as old boots, I am,” Hero said with an attempt at jocularity. “What’s a little sewage between friends when all’s said and done?” She felt William’s quick glance of approval, and it warmed her. He expected nothing else of her, and that gave her renewed strength.
Alec still seemed to hesitate, but then Marie Claire moaned softly and bit her lip hard to keep the sound from escaping again. “Let’s go, then. The air down here is probably plague-ridden. She doesn’t have the strength to combat it.”
“Come.” William lifted Marie Claire easily and carried her to the tiny skiff, little more than a raft with low sides and a single thwart. He set her down on the bottom of the boat, and Alec stepped gingerly in to sit on the thwart, taking up the paddle. “We’ll see you in the fresh air, then.”
“Just follow the stream.” William stepped back, and Alec dipped the paddle into the scum, propelling the small craft down the dark tunnel.
“Let’s go, people.” William waved a hand forward, and the group set off again, splashing doggedly through the stream.
Hero let time slip away, concentrating only on breathing as little as possible and keeping her eyes on the torch Marcus still held at the front of the line. He and William had replenished their lights at the beach, and they flared more strongly now. After what seemed an eternity, Hero caught a sense of something against her cheek, the merest sensation of moving air. She snapped back to full awareness, seeing Marcus’s torch flare and gutter as a draft caught the flame. Ahead was the faintest glimmer of light, real light, daylight.
William’s hand had been on her back for hours now, a warm, encouraging pressure, propelling her forward. “Light at the end of the tunnel,” he murmured into her ear. “A few more yards.”
She increased her pace as those in front of her surged ahead. The skiff was tied to a post at the end of the tunnel, with no sign of Alec or Marie Claire. Closing off the end of the tunnel was a grating. Marcus pushed against it, and it swung open. He wriggled sideways through the gap, jumping down from the ledge onto a narrow sandy strip at the edge of the river. The sewer stream debouched into the river at this point, and above him rose the riverbank.
Hero followed the others into the air, jumping onto the sandy strip. Instantly, without a second thought, she paddled into the river shallows, cleansing her feet in the water with a sigh of relief.
“There’s no time for lingering,” William said briskly. “Get up onto the bank.”
Reluctantly, Hero left the cleansing water and began to scramble up the steep bank to the flat ground above. William’s hand was under her backside, pushing her upwards as she felt for toeholds in the unstable soil, and a hand came down from above to haul her up the last foot. She stood, breathing deeply of the fresh air, wondering if she would ever feel truly clean again, ever get rid of the stench in her nostrils. Alec was kneeling on the bank beside Marie Claire, who lay full-length, her eyes closed, her breast fluttering unevenly with each shallow breath.
William hoisted himself onto the bank behind Hero. He went to kneel beside the supine figure, lifting her wrist to feel her pulse. He shrugged off the knapsack he was carrying on his back and set it on the grass. “Brandy,” he instructed, taking out a flask, which he held to her lips, forcing a few drops into her mouth. She choked and coughed, and her eyes opened.
“Forgive me,” she said. “I don’t mean to be so feeble.”
“You’re not,” he said gently. “You’re a trooper, my dear. Once we put a few miles behind us, we will stop, and you may rest for as long as possible. But we cannot stop here.” He stood up, taking a swallow of brandy himself as he did so. “We’ll carry you until we can commandeer a boat. Hero, you need a swallow of this, but not too much. You’ve still got a fair way to go.” He gave her the flask.
Hero took a deep draught. It made her head spin but seemed to clear some of the noxious fumes of the sewer from her throat and chest. She passed it to Alec and then sat down abruptly on the grass. She felt suddenly as weak as a kitten, but there was no way this enterprise could carry two invalid ladies. And Marie Clai
re had a lot more right to protective treatment than she did. She pulled the knapsack towards her and rummaged for her shoes, which William had carried with his own.
William shot her a quick assessing glance. She was very pale, but he could not afford to be overtly considerate. From what he had seen of Lady Hero in the last few days, he had the feeling that she would gain more strength from the assumption that she would manage because it was expected of her than from sympathy.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” he said, and went over to where the other men were gathered on the riverbank.
Hero remained where she was, watching the conclave, wondering only idly what they were discussing. It didn’t seem to matter too much in her present enervated state. She wasn’t particularly surprised when, with brief handshakes, they went off in pairs. She knew now that they never traveled together in the open.
William came back to where the three of them were sitting. “Come now,” he said briskly, giving Hero his hand to pull her to her feet. “We can’t hang around here; we’re still too close to the city, and there are spies everywhere.”
Hero nodded and resolutely looked around at their surroundings. The walls of the city were only about half a mile away, and she could just glimpse through the trees lining the riverbank the narrow roadway leading to the city gate. She could hear voices and rolling cart wheels. They were certainly too close to city traffic for comfort.
“Which way do we go?”
William gestured along the bank. “That way. We’ll steer clear of the road for as long as possible.” He bent to pick up the knapsack. “Do you think you can carry this, Hero? Alec and I will have to carry Marie Claire.”
She nodded, and without saying anything further, William held out the straps so that she could sling it onto her back. It was heavier than she expected, but gamely she settled it into the small of her back, supporting it with her hands behind her.
