Page 126 of The Other Woman

He smiled. He was standing before the votive candles, gazing upward toward the statue of the Madonna and Child. Charlotte glanced around the nave. It was empty except for a couple of quite-obvious bodyguards.

“I see you’ve brought along an entourage.”

“No matter how hard I try,” he said, “I can’t seem to get rid of them.”

“It’s probably for the best. The Russians must be furious with you.”

“They usually are.”

She smiled in spite of her nerves. “Did you have anything to do with the decision to send her to Moscow?”

“Actually, I did my best to prevent it.”

“You’re vengeful by nature?”

“Pragmatic, I like to think.”

“What does pragmatism have to do with any of this?”

“She’s a dangerous woman. The West will live to regret the decision.”

“It’s hard for me to think of her in that way. To me, she’ll always be the little girl I knew in Paris.”

“She’s changed a great deal.”

“Has she really? I’m not so sure.” She looked at him. Even in the red glow of the candles, his eyes were shockingly green. “Have you spoken to her?”

“Twice, in fact.”

“Did she mention me?”

“Of course.”

Charlotte felt her heart begin to flutter.Her pills... She needed one of her pills. “Why hasn’t she tried to contact me?”

“She was afraid.”

“Of what?”

“Of what your answer might be.”

She lifted her gaze toward the statue. “If anyone has anything to fear, Monsieur Allon, it’s me. I gave away my child and allowed Kim and Sasha to turn her into that creature I saw sitting next to the Tsar.”

“It was a long time ago.”

“For me, yes, but not for Rebecca.” Charlotte crossed the nave to the altar. “Have you spent much time in Catholic churches?” she asked.

“More than you might imagine.”

“Do you believe in God, Monsieur Allon?”

“Sometimes,” he answered.

“I don’t,” said Charlotte, turning her back to him, “but I’ve always loved churches. I especially like the smell. The smell of incense and candles and beeswax. It smells like...”

“Like what, Madame Bettencourt?”

She didn’t dare answer, not after what she had done. “How long will it be until I hear from her?” she asked after a moment, but when she turned she found the church deserted. Forgiveness, she thought as she went into the square. It smells like forgiveness.