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TWENTY

J uliette sat down at the same table at the Café du Chat she and Jean Marc had previously occupied and deposited the black grosgrain satchel she carried at her feet before turning to look around the café.

“You have no escort.” Nana Sarpelier suddenly appeared at her side, quickly setting down her tray and spreading her fans on the table. “A woman who has no escort makes herself conspicuous.” She sat down opposite Juliette. “And you also make me conspicuous.”

“I wanted to talk to you without Jean Marc being here.” Juliette motioned to the satchel at her feet. “Two million livres.”

Nana’s eyes widened. “Mother of God. And you’re carrying it around Paris with no escort?”

“Well, I did hire a carriage to bring me here.”

Nana stared at her blankly and then threw back her head and laughed. “I suppose I should be grateful you didn’t decide to stroll here from the Place Royale.”

Juliette smiled. “I thought it safe enough as long as no one knew what I carried. Jean Marc was planning on bringing me here tomorrow evening but—”

“You didn’t want him here,” Nana finished for her. “Why?”

“My affairs aren’t his concern.” Juliette clasped her hands together on the table. “In exchange for the two million livres I’ll need a writ from the queen giving Jean Marc Andreas legal possession of the Wind Dancer.”

“The Wind Dancer.” Nana’s lips pursed in a soundless whistle. “So that’s the ‘object.’”

“I want the writ at once. Is that possible?”

“It’s more difficult to see her.” Nana hesitated and then nodded. “By tomorrow. For two million livres we can make the extra effort.” Her gaze narrowed on Juliette’s face. “You were secretive enough before about it. Why are you being so open now?”

“I decided I have to trust you since we’ll be working toward the same goal.”

Nana looked down at the satchel. “The two million livres will help. You know they guillotined the king two months ago?”

“Yes, it was the first thing we heard when we arrived in Paris. You could do nothing to save him?”

“We tried, but he was too well guarded. He died with great dignity.” She shook her head wearily. “Sometimes it seems hopeless.” Her lips tightened with determination. “But we must free the queen and the dauphin.”

“What of Marie Thérèse and the king’s sister?”

“By Salic law the princess can’t inherit the throne, so she’s safe enough. If Madame Elizabeth can be persuaded to be a little less royal in her bearing, she should be safe too.”

“But the queen isn’t safe,” Juliette murmured. “They hate her.”

Nana nodded soberly. “And little Louis Charles is now the king of France and a rallying point for all the royalists in Europe. Too many people are beginning to find him in the way.”

Juliette had a fleeting memory of that sweet, sunny little boy she had known at Versailles. “You have a plan?”

“Not yet.” Nana looked down at the fans spread on the table. “We’ve been waiting.”

“Waiting for what?”

Nana looked up. “It doesn’t matter. The waiting is over. We can start to formulate a scheme now.”

“And now you’re not being honest with me. Isn’t two million livres surety for my loyalty?”

Nana hesitated. “Perhaps.”

Juliette’s folded hands tightened. “I need to help her. I thought the money would be enough but it’s not. I don’t want to look back and regret I didn’t do all I could.”

“I’ll discuss it.”

Juliette grimaced. “You can at least permit me to take over the painting of these fans. You have no talent for it.”

Nana grinned. “And no inclination. I’d be glad to be rid of the task. Perhaps we can come to an agreement. I’ll send the materials to the Place Royale tomorrow.”

“I’ll purchase my own. These materials are as atrocious as your daubs.”

Nana chuckled. “You may not find fan-making as easy as you think. Come to me if you have trouble. And don’t make them too elaborate or I’ll have to charge more than a few francs for them.”

“It would do no harm to have a few fine fans to sell to your wealthier clients.” Juliette found herself smiling as she looked at the other woman. Nana Sarpelier’s frankness and warmth were as engaging as she remembered. “But I promise not to make them too beautiful. You’ll contact me?”

Nana nodded. “If you can help in another way, we’ll let you know.”

Juliette hesitated. “Jean Marc will not know of this. You understand? He’s not to be implicated in any way. If there’s any danger of my being discovered, you must find me another place to live. He must be safe.”

“He didn’t impress me as a man who could be easily deceived.”

Juliette’s hands nervously clutched at the opening of her cloak. “He must be kept safe,” she repeated.

“I like her. She’s bold,” Nana said. “And I think she means what she says. She could be useful.”

“Yes.” William gazed thoughtfully out the window at the twisting street below.

“She could paint the fans and also act as courier.” Nana had said all that was needed. She waited for his decision.

“Use her.” William turned and blew out the candle on the table. “We’ll use everyone we can. I want the queen and her son out of there by fall.”

“I know you’re upset,” Nana said quietly. “We did all we could to save the king, William.”

“It’s not your fault. He didn’t give you enough help.” William came toward the bed. “I find that curious.”

“Monsieur has only limited means.”

“Does he?” William lay down beside her and drew her into his arms. “It won’t happen again. This time we have to be certain.”

“We will be.” Nana’s hand moved down his body and then stilled. “You don’t want me?”

He held her closer. “Perhaps later.”

“It doesn’t matter.” She nestled nearer to him. “I like this too. During the day I forget how lonely the night can be. I don’t like the night.”

He kissed her gently. “Then go to sleep and it will soon be over.”

Silence fell between them and presently they both slept.

“You took the money to the café last night?” Jean Marc’s words were measured. “I told you I’d escort you there tonight.”

“I wanted to give them the livres right away and you had to go to see Monsieur Bardot yesterday.” Juliette bit into her croissant. “So I decided to go by myself.”

“With two million livres. In case you’re unaware of the fact, Paris is teeming with thieves who’d like nothing better than to slit your throat for ten livres.”

“All went well.” Juliette sipped her hot chocolate. “I need to go out today to purchase paint and canvas and it’s becoming troublesome hiring a carriage every time. Now that we don’t have Dupree to worry about, will you purchase a carriage and hire a coachman?”

“You’re changing the subject. Are you trying to distract me?” Jean Marc asked.

“Yes,” she said bluntly. “And I’ve already told Robert to hire whatever help we need for the house.”

A faint smile touched Jean Marc’s lips. “You’ll not be scrubbing any more floors?”

“I’ll be too busy.” She pushed back her chair and stood up. “Now I must go upstairs and get the letter I wrote to Catherine last night. I want you to send a messenger with it today.”

“I sent a message to Vasaro the day we arrived to tell her we’d arrived safely,” Jean Marc said.

“You didn’t tell me.”

“We don’t seem to be communicating in any fashion these days. It can’t last, Juliette.”

“Yes, it can.” She tried to keep the desperation from her voice.

“It must.” The late-morning sunshine streaming into the breakfast salon gilded the night-black of Jean Marc’s hair with indigo highlights and revealed the beautiful shape of his lips.

She wanted to keep staring at him, but then, she always wanted to do that these days.

It was as if, since she’d forbidden herself his touch, she couldn’t get enough of looking at him.

She forced her gaze away from him and started for the door.

“I’ll go get my letter. Even though there’s no urgency now, I’d still like it sent today. ”

He caught her wrist as she passed his chair. “I’ll purchase a carriage for you today.” He lifted her wrist to his mouth and his tongue caressed the sensitive blue-veined flesh.

Juliette inhaled sharply. The tingling in her wrist was spreading through her arm, her entire body. “Let me go, Jean Marc.”

“Why? You like it.” His teeth pressed against her wrist, nibbling delicately. “I like it. Do you know why I haven’t touched you since we left the Ile du Lion?”

“Because I told you—”

“Because I decided to show you how hungry we’d both be if we were deprived of each other,” Jean Marc said thickly. “In truth, I didn’t expect the hunger to be so sharp. You said you liked the way I pleasured you on the island. Come upstairs and I’ll show you a much more interesting—”

“No!” She wrenched her hand away and stepped back. “I won’t do—”

“Monsieur Etchelet would like to see you, Monsieur Andreas.” Robert stood in the doorway, carefully avoiding looking at Juliette’s flushed face. “I’ve shown him to the Gold Salon.” He hurriedly left the chamber.

“Francois.” Juliette’s gaze flew to Jean Marc’s face. “What’s he doing here? How did he know we’d returned to Paris?”

“Danton probably told him. I saw a few members of the convention when I called on Bardot yesterday.” Jean Marc rose to his feet “And I imagine he’s here to express his displeasure at the way I parted company with him.”

She frowned. “He’s a dangerous man. I’m going with you.”

“To protect me?” His brows rose. “I’m touched you’re willing to lay down your life, if not your body, in my service. But I assure you, I’d far prefer the latter.”

“Don’t jest.”

“I’m not jesting.” Jean Marc turned and strolled toward the door. “Come along if you like. I don’t think Francois will become violent”

Francois nodded at both of them with a cool smile when they entered the salon. “Welcome back to Paris. I trust you had a successful trip?”

Jean Marc nodded. “Quite successful. I regret you became too ill to accompany us. I hope the indisposition was only temporary?”

“An extremely bad head and a worse temper. However, I got over both in time.”

“I hoped you would.”

“The object you sought is safe?”