Page 87

TWENTY-FOUR

Y ou’re surprised I sent for you?” Danton leaned back in his chair and regarded Jean Marc wearily. “I’m a little surprised myself. I was very annoyed with you at one time. I didn’t like losing a pawn of the magnitude of the Wind Dancer.”

“One cannot lose what one has never possessed.” Jean Marc seated himself in the chair across from Danton’s desk. “Though, of course, I have not the faintest idea as to your meaning.”

“Of course.” Danton smiled sardonically. “However, you should know I was so annoyed that I failed to inform you I was paid a call by a mutual acquaintance of ours several weeks ago.”

“Indeed?”

“Raoul Dupree.”

Jean Marc froze.

“You did good work on the bastard. His body is crippled and his face would do justice to a nightmare.”

“Not good enough, evidently. I meant to kill him.”

“I know. He told me. He was frothing with plans for vengeance. He said he’d take the statue from you and the two of us would share the glory of the Wind Dancer.” He smiled faintly. “Naturally, his plans called for your very painful demise.”

“How surprising, and I thought he was so fond of me.”

“He also mentioned your cousin, Mademoiselle Catherine, and Juliette de Clement.”

“And?”

Danton shrugged. “I told him I wasn’t interested in obtaining his services. I was quite busy at the time trying to keep Robespierre from chopping off half the heads in Paris and certainly wasn’t interested in having yours served up to me.”

“I suppose I should be grateful you were otherwise occupied.”

“Dupree swore he’d go to Robespierre when I refused him.” Danton frowned. “But since you’re still alive I doubt he did as he threatened.”

“May I ask why you’re suddenly concerned for my continued well-being?”

“Oh, I’m not. You must take your chances with the rest of us,” Danton said bitterly.

“Then why are you warning me?”

“It’s come to my ears that your cousin now occupies the quarters of Francois Etchelet in the Temple. A romantic, foolish gesture on her part.”

“I agree. I couldn’t persuade her to do otherwise.”

“If I know she’s in Paris, then it’s reasonable to assume Dupree knows also. He has many contacts in the city and Pirard, his former lieutenant, is now serving in the Temple. It would be wise of you to safeguard her.”

“I’ll endeavor to do so.” Jean Marc stood up. “Thank you for your warning. May I ask why you bothered to give it?”

“I remembered her face that night at the abbey…” Danton shook his head wearily. “She’s suffered enough. So many innocents dying…Did you hear about my wife Gabrielle?”

“Yes, my deepest sympathy, Citizen.”

“I’m married again now. Lucille is Gabrielle’s cousin, a fine woman. After I married her we went away to the country for a number of months. We were very happy there.” He sighed. “I didn’t want to come back.”

“But you did.”

“I have to try to halt it,” Danton said. “The tumbrils keep rolling to the guillotine. Robespierre thinks terror is the only way the revolution will survive.”

“Good luck,” Jean Marc said gravely. “I’d not like to wager on your chances of stopping that madman.”

“I’m not sure I would either. God, I’m weary of it all.” Danton stood up. “Good day, Andreas. Guard your cousin well.”

“Francois will guard her.”

“Francois.” For an instant an expression of sadness crossed Danton’s face before it hardened. “I hope he gives her more loyalty than he showed me.”

“Good day, Danton.” Jean Marc turned away.

“Juliette de Clement.”

Jean Marc glanced over his shoulder.

“He mentioned your cousin only in passing, but he was quite venomous on the score of Mademoiselle de Clement. I think he’d go out of his way to hurt her badly. If he doesn’t dispose of her himself, I’m quite sure he’ll find a way to send her to the guillotine.”

“He said that?”

Danton nodded. “If she has value to you, I’d send her out of harm’s way.”

“She has value to me.”

Jean Marc opened the door and left the study.

“Set a date,” Jean Marc told Francois tersely. “I want it over.”

“Even if I set a date, we may have to change it,” Francois said with a frown. “We can’t be sure—”

“I told you what Danton said.” Jean Marc whirled away from the window to face him. “It’s Dupree , for God’s sake. You know what he’s like. Who knows when he’ll decide to move against all of us?”

“He’s held his hand this far.”

“Set a date. I want Juliette safely away from all this.”

Francois nodded, staring absently at the portrait of the Wind Dancer on the wall in the corner of the room. “Very well, we’ll take the boy from the Temple on January nineteenth.”

“January nineteenth.” Nana pulled the gray wig on her hand and began tucking her hair beneath it.

“They’re going to tell Simon and his wife there’s a threat of rescue by William Darrell.

They’ve bribed four of the guards to act as escort and Juliette de Clemente is going to forge Robespierre’s signature to a writ to have the boy released to Etchelet’s custody and removed to a place of safety.

” She went to the mirror and took the heart-shaped beauty patch from the silver snuff box.

“Once away from the Simons, the boy will be escorted by the guards through the front gates and taken out of Paris to Le Havre.”

“Very clever. That beauty patch is too close to your mouth. Move it a little to the left.” Dupree looked thoughtful.

“The de Clement bitch will have to practice the signature in order to get it right. I want one of the papers she discards, but it must contain only the signature. Nothing else. You understand?”

“I’m not stupid.”

“You have a saucy tongue. You’re fortunate I’ve been pleased with you in other ways. I told you what I did to Barshal.” Dupree gazed at her critically. “Stop fussing. You look fine now. Come here.”

Nana stiffened and then turned and moved slowly toward him. “We move on January nineteenth, then?”

“Why not? It would be amusing to use their plans to augment my own. I spoke to Pirard today and he’s eager to earn a generous stipend for a day’s work. Kneel down.”

She knelt before him. “You’ve told Pirard about the count?”

“I’ve told him nothing beyond his duties in the enterprise. Men like Pirard are only tools. You hate kneeling to me, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“But you do it anyway.” His index finger touched the beauty patch on her cheek. “Camille rather liked it. I think I prefer your attitude. It’s more satisfying.”

“Shall I begin?”

“In a moment.” His hand stroked the fullness at the sides of the wig. “Someday I’ll take off all your clothes and put you in that armoire across the room. That’s what you did to me, remember? It was a chest in the cellar and you said I must learn—”

“I didn’t say that to you.”

He slapped her, hard. “Of course that was you. Say it.”

“It was…me.”

“And then you put the roaches in with me. I couldn’t have done anything so naughty as to deserve that, could I?”

“No.”

“But don’t worry. After I take you out of the chest, I’ll hold you and stroke you and tell you what you must do to be a good girl and please me.”

Her voice shook with a terror that was no pretense. “Don’t…put me in the armoire.”

“Not now,” he agreed. “One must savor such discipline.” He leaned back in the chair. “You may begin.”

Nana’s voice still trembled as she altered her tone to the high, pleading pitch he preferred. “Promise me we’ll always be together. You’re my own sweet boy, Raoul.…

“The forgery is quite good.” Nana handed Dupree the blank paper with Robespierre’s signature at the bottom of the page. “It was the best of the lot, but I told her they were all only adequate. I slipped this one beneath the fans in my basket when she wasn’t looking.”

Dupree critically scanned the signature. “Very good. She’s really quite gifted. I couldn’t tell the difference myself.”

“Shall I put on the gown?”

“What?” He glanced at her impatiently. “No, I have no time for it tonight. I have to see Pirard and arrange a few matters. You may go.”

Nana looked at him in surprise.

“Go.” Dupree turned away. “I told you, I have some arrangements to make with Pirard.”

“I cannot help?”

“They don’t concern you.” He was limping toward the desk across the room “Come back tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow is the seventeenth of January. We should be preparing for—”

“You dare try to tell me what I should do? Perhaps you should put on the gown.”

“No.” She hurried to the door. “I’ll come back tomorrow.”

The hammering assaulted Juliette’s ears as she came down the stairs.

“What’s going on here?” Juliette hurried into the Gold Salon. “Dear heaven! What on earth are you doing, Robert?”

“Packing.”

“So I see.” She looked around the room in bewilderment. All the paintings had been stripped from the walls and several boxes and trunks set around the room.

Robert looked up from the painting he was boxing. “Monsieur Andreas said we must pack all of these for travel.” He went back to his work.

Juliette wandered around the room, looking at the vacant walls. All the Fragonards, Bouchers, even the portrait of the Wind Dancer were gone. “Where is Monsieur Andreas now?” she shouted above the hammering.

“He went to see Monsieur Bardot,” Robert said. “He left directly after breakfast.”

Juliette paused beside a familiar brass-bound oak chest. The Wind Dancer itself. “He had you bring this up from the cellar?”

Robert nodded. “He asked particularly for that chest. Everything of value must be readied to leave. You’re going on a journey, Mademoiselle?”

“I…don’t know.” For an instant she felt panic surge through her. Perhaps Jean Marc was tired of her and sending her away. No, he wouldn’t pack up the entire household just to rid himself of a mistress.

“Make sure you pack all of Mademoiselle’s paintings in her room, Robert.” Jean Marc stood in the doorway of the salon. “And tell Marie she’d better start packing Mademoiselle’s clothing as well.”

Her clothes. No mention of his. The panic came again and Juliette tried desperately to keep it from showing. “We’re going somewhere?”