Normally he returned to the stables and let Lisette make her own way back to the house. Tonight he stayed in the shadows to make sure she made it to the safety of the palace before he returned to his own room.
Lisette leaned against the closed door once she was alone in her small attic room. Her hands shook, and she chastised herself. She was well-trained and knew better than to let a broken pot shake her. They didn’t know if anyone overheard them or what they might have overheard. What she needed to do was proceed with caution but not let this event upset her. Everything must continue as it had been.
She hung her cloak on the peg before she sank down on the edge of the bed. She stood just as quickly and lifted the mattress. Her black traveling dress was still neatly folded, and she shook it out before searching the pockets. The papers were still in place, as were funds in the event she had to flee. After tonight, she may just have to do so.
No. She banished the though from her head. She must not think that way. It could have been anyone, and maybe they weren’t even aware she and Jean Pierre were also in the building.
Lisette knew it was too much to hope for, but it helped give her some peace of mind. However, if they weren’t there to spy on them, who were they and what did they want?
She folded the gown once again and moved the mattress to cover it. Jean Pierre was right. She couldn’t return home. At least not now. Somehow she needed to come up with an excuse to write to grandfather and pray he understood.
Lisette rose with the sun. It was a fitful night of sleep, and if she slept at all it was to doze. With every sound that woke her, she feared that Savary or one of his men was about to arrest her. The Minister of Police didn’t bother to wait for normal hours. If he decided to imprison someone, it didn’t matter if it was three in the afternoon or three in the morning.
She put on her serviceable gown and brushed through her hair. She needed to put her worry aside. Had they been discovered, soldiers would have come for them by now. Besides, she needed to think of an excuse to write her grandfather. The thought of defying him made her as ill as the thought of being arrested by Savary.
She checked her appearance in the mirror, noted all was in place, and left her room for another day of work. As she rounded the corner before descending the stairs, the voices of two other maids drifted up to her.
“What do Savary’s men want with Lisette?”
Her stomach tightened, and Lisette ducked into a small closet. She kept the door cracked so she could still hear them.
“Who knows, but I doubt they will find what they want. I can’t imagine why Lisette would be of interest to him. She barely speaks, and I’ve not known her to leave the palace grounds since she was hired. Lisette is the last person who would be a threat.”
“I heard they also wanted to speak with Jean Pierre Bouvier.”
The taller maid looked at the other. “The groomsman?”
“Oui. Don’t you think it odd?”
“I think Savary is chasing shadows, is what I think.”
The other maid gasped.
“Don’t you dare tell anyone I said that. I have no wish to be imprisoned.”
“I promise, I swear.”
The taller one knocked on Lisette’s door and waited. She knocked a second time. When nobody answered, she turned the handle and stuck her head in the room before straightening and closing the door. “She must already be at breakfast.”
The two retreated down the stairs, and Lisette bolted to her room. She wasn’t about to waste a moment wondering what Savary and his men wanted, because she could already guess. She didn’t dare risk an audience to put aside any suspicions or be arrested on the spot.
Lisette slammed the lock into place and pulled her gown from beneath the mattress. Even though she had checked her pockets the night before, she did so again. Everything she needed was there. She quickly changed her clothing before she grabbed her cloak. Now, to make it out of the palace without being caught. She had gone over this route several times and knew it by heart. She could navigate it in the dark if necessary. She just hoped she didn’t encounter anyone.
She hastily made her way down the back set of stairs and exited a door that led to the gardens. This one opened behind tall bushes, so if anyone was within the grounds they could not see her. She shut the door and peered through the foliage. Nobody was about. She slinked along the back of the building to peak around the corner. Officers employed by the Ministry of Police were mounted on horses. Between them was a wagon used for hauling prisoners. They were not here to simply ask questions, but to arrest them. She had to get word to Jean Pierre before it was too late.
Lisette tightened the bow at her chin that held her cap in place and slipped the handle of the basket over her arm. She knew that from a distance, she looked like one of the kitchen maids and hoped the disguise would last until she was far away.
Slowly, so as not to draw attention, Lisette wandered down the rows of the herb garden, studying the plants. This was December and they were all dead, but she hoped those on horseback were too stupid to realize that or they would think she was checking on how the garden was doing in the winter. She chanced a glance over her shoulder when she reached the end. She couldn’t even see the drive or the officers from this location, and nobody else was outside either.
She quickened her steps and made her way to the stables, keeping within the tree line. More soldiers on horses were in the yard. Lisette held her breath. Had Jean Pierre been arrested? Should she wait to find out, or make her own escape? Yet she couldn’t leave without him. What if she was his only chance at being rescued? What if he hadn’t been warned or didn’t know? He could walk into a trap. She had to get to him first.
Two officers stepped out of the stable and approached the others on horses. “He is not here.”
Lisette sighed with relief and stepped further back into the shadows. Had he made his escape, or was he just lucky enough to be gone when the soldiers came?
“Where did he go?” demanded a man on horseback.
“To the house for his meal.” The officer gestured towards the palace with a tilt of his head.
“Very well, we will arrest him there.”
The other two men mounted their horses and rode towards the palace. Lisette didn’t wait to find out what would happen. She made her way out of the gardens and to the streets of Paris. She couldn’t risk returning to help Jean Pierre, nor would he expect her to. She would just have to wait and see what happened. Others could rescue him if necessary, but if they were both taken, there was nobody to alert their contacts before it was too late.
Tuileries was large. Hopefully it would be hours before anyone realized she was actually gone.
Her first order of business was to make her way to the safe house. Given the circumstances, she would have to leave France now. It would be too dangerous to remain. She would be with her grandfather at Christmas after all, but she would be lacking her husband.
Jean Pierre waited at the end of a dark alley, hoping to see Lisette. Had she managed to escape? It was fortuitous he had been unable to sleep, otherwise he would have never heard the horses this morning. From his room, he could see the main drive to the palace. As the sun lightened the sky, several riders and a wagon for prisoners arrived at the front gate. He didn’t wait to find out what they wanted. His gut knew. He didn’t waste a moment before he started gathering the necessary papers and funds, and changed for travel.
He wanted to get word to Lisette but knew of no way into the palace other than the most commonly used doors, which would only get him arrested on the spot. Instead, he stood in the shadows of the bushes contemplating his many options when she emerged from a hidden door. Knowing that she was well on her way to safety, he made his escape. Had he left too soon? Was she caught? Should he go back?
Her profile came into view as she passed before the entrance. Jean Pierre reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her back into the darkness. Her mouth opened in what he assumed would beco
me a scream, and he muffled it with his hand. Light glinted off the knife in her hand aimed towards his neck.
“Lisette, it’s me, Jean Pierre.”
She relaxed, and her arm dropped to her side.
When he removed his hand from her mouth, she sighed.
“I am so relieved you escaped. I heard one of the stable hands tell an officer you’d gone inside for your meal. It was too risky to enter the palace again.”
“You did the right thing.”
“How do you suppose they found us?” Worry marred her brow, and she bit her bottom lip.
“It had to be the letter.”
“But why didn’t it go through normal channels? I don’t understand. My grandfather has only the address of our fictional chateaux, so by all rights the letter should be on its way south. As it reached me at the palace, it went through the proper people, so why wasn’t it coded?”
“I don’t know, but I intend to find out.” Jean Pierre peeked out onto the road and ducked back in. “I don’t see any soldiers.”
“We should hurry. I don’t know how long we have until they realize we are no longer at the palace.”
Did she think he was going to loiter in this alley all day? Instead of commenting, he nodded and offered his arm. They both knew the direction of the safe house, if anything went wrong.
“Should we go together? Wouldn’t it be safer to split?”
Jean Pierre looked down at her. “Normally, but we don’t know what we’ll find when we reach Vaux.”
Lisette nodded and took his arm. They exited onto the street, and she kept her head down. He wished he had bothered with a hat as she had, but his face was on view for anyone they passed. He could only hope nobody paid them any attention and that they encountered no soldiers. At least their clothing was appropriate for this hour. They blended in well with the rest of the working class going about their business.
He paused at the corner and looked in both directions. No soldiers so far. He forced himself to relax, yet his heart thumped heavily in his chest. The tempo increased the closer they came to the Vaux residence. Not only was this the one place they were to go for instruction or to send warning, Vaux was also the man responsible for coding and sending messages back and forth. His young son, no more than five, had made the deliveries for the past year. He feared as much for the son as he did the father. Yet the boy had been alive yesterday. Jean Pierre hoped he still was.
Lisette’s hand tightened on his arm. Jean Pierre glanced down at her. Her eyes were fixed on the buildings across the street and up a block. In front of the Vaux household were more soldiers.
He patted her hand, and they continued walking past the row of houses crossing at the intersection. They continued for two more blocks without a word between them before Jean Pierre directed her across the street and down another block, until they were at the narrow street that ran behind the Vaux home.
“What do we do now? Continue on to Etienne?” Lisette asked in a hushed tone.
Etienne was the backbone of the operation in Paris, and he would be their second stop. “We need to find out what has happened to Vaux.”
Her chin shot up, blue eyes blazed. “You wish for us to be killed?”
“They could only be questioning him.”
“Or they could have been arrested, or worse, killed. Then what?”
“We leave.”
Her shoulders slumped. “Of course, you’re correct.”
Jean Pierre squeezed her hand. “We were lucky to have managed as long as we did.” He could remember the first time he had to flee after discovery. He’d even had more training than Lisette, but it still hadn’t stopped the small amount of panic that settled in his gut. Given the circumstances and that she had never really faced the danger, she was holding up rather well. Of course, the Home Office would have never placed her here had they not thought her capable.
They continued down the curved, narrow cobbled street until they reached the back of the Vaux home. There were no soldiers here. Jean Pierre silently walked up the few steps to the back door. Slowly, he turned the handle and breathed a sigh of relief that it wasn’t locked. He edged the door open, equally glad the hinges were well-oiled, and stepped into the dim interior. Lisette followed close on his heels. He looked down and noted the knife clasped in the palm of her hand, knuckles white against the handle. He slipped the gun out from inside his pocket and made his way towards the door leading to the dining room.
Voices could be heard from the parlor. Jean Pierre peeked through a crack in the door and listened.
“Send this one.” An older officer tossed a parchment on the table. How had they discovered Vaux? His son sat on the settee, watching his father and the officers, face as pale as a ghost.
“Coded?” Vaux asked, his tone dripped with hatred.
“No. I will let your Pasquel wonder why it was not, just as your Lisette must have wondered.”
Lisette placed herself on the opposite side of the door and could hear every word. Her eyes met his.
“The one to Etienne?” Vaux asked.
The soldier laughed. “He will be the last. Code it, but don’t make any mistakes. We now know your codes as well as you do.”
Vaux set his quill aside and looked up at the man. “If I refuse?”
Another soldier grabbed the boy and aimed a pistol at his child. “Do you really wish to ask the question again?”
A thin line of sweat trickled down the side of Vaux’s temple. “Leave him be.” He picked up the quill. “He is only a child.”
“One who will grow into manhood, if you do as you are told.”
Silence followed while Vaux rewrote the message to Etienne. They would have to get to him soon so he could be warned. He was more important than Pasquel. Only Etienne and Vaux knew the name and location of each English spy in Paris.
When he was finished, Vaux blew on the ink and sanded it before handing the parchment to the soldier.
The man skimmed the contents, nodded his head, and folded the letter before he turned to the boy. “Deliver both of these and return. If you say anything, your papa will die.”
The boys eyes grew larger, but he said nothing. Jean Pierre hated the man more with each moment. Only a cruel monster would terrorize a child.
“Oui, Monsieur.” The boy shoved his cap on the top of his head and left the parlor towards the front door. Lisette met Jean Pierre’s eyes and jerked her head towards the back door. He nodded. He would stay here while she went after the boy. The boy needed saving as much as his father.
Lisette slipped out the back door. She entered the small street and turned left in hopes of encountering the boy. She exited onto a main street just as he crossed before her, and she reached out for him.
At the feel of her fingers on his arm, the boy jumped and turned in her direction. A moment later he flung himself at her, his small arms clasped around her thighs, his head against her stomach. The poor thing must be frightened to death. But they couldn’t stay here like this. A soldier could come around the corner at any moment. As much as she hated to do this, she pushed him away and bent down so they were face to face. “I need for you to go down two more streets and turn right. Wait for me in front of the café. Can you do that?”
Tears pooled in his eyes but he didn’t relinquish hold of her black skirt.
“I promise I will be right behind you.” She glanced back at the corner, certain someone would come upon them in any moment. “We could be caught here.”
Slowly his hands fell away from her skirts, but he didn’t move away.
“I promise I will be there in a few moments.”
He swallowed, terror written in his small features, but he turned and ran down the street. She followed at a slower pace, basket still linked over her arm, resisting the urge to look behind and watched the boy round the corner. She didn’t even know his name. A year of delivering messages, and she’d never bothered to know him.
He waited for her as promised. She took his ha
nd and led him inside the café. The place was packed with early morning workers drinking coffee and eating various breads. Lisette settled the boy at a back table, next to the kitchen where if necessary, they could duck out that way. Confident he wouldn’t be seen from the entrance, she took a seat facing the door.
She leaned forwards and whispered. “I am Lisette.”
A small smile pulled at his lips. “I know,” he whispered back.
Of course he knew her name. He asked for her at the palace and pressed the letters into her hands.
“What is your name?”
“Claude.”
“That is a very nice name.” The boy was a bit more relaxed, but not entirely. Who could blame him? There were officers in his house threatening to kill his father. “May I have the letter to Pasquel?”
“I must . . .”
“I know, I heard the soldiers.”
Claude pulled it from his pocket and handed it over. Lisette scanned the message and was thankful it wasn’t anything too damning. Pasquel was to meet Etienne on urgent business at Place de la Concorde. Why so close to the palace? She supposed it didn’t matter, given it was a public location and not one she wanted to spend any time in, especially at midnight. The location was probably haunted by the hundreds of souls who lost their head there during the revolution.
It didn’t matter what Etienne’s instructions were. The ones she needed to add were more important. Lisette glanced around for a writing implement. A pencil sat on a table behind the counter. She moved from her seat and approached the servant. “May I?”
The servant glanced down at the pencil and shrugged. Lisette took this as a yes and returned to her seat. It didn’t write nearly as well as the ones she was used to in England, but it would suffice. Her message was simple. Falcon. Lisette folded the parchment again and handed it back to Claude. “May I have the other letter?”
Compromised for Christmas Page 2
