Compromised for Christmas

by Jane Charles

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 hand 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?”

  He slid that one across the table.

 
A quick glance offered up few details of Napoleon’s return to France. At the bottom of this letter, she wrote Geese and returned it to Claude. “I will follow you as you deliver these and then take you back home.”

  He nodded and bit his lower lip

  The servant came over and glared at her. They really should not have taken a table if they weren’t going to order anything. “A baguette and croissant to take with us, please.”

  He nodded and walked away. A moment later he returned. She paid for the bread and left the café with Claude.

  “You need to go alone, like you always do. I promise to follow close behind.” She pressed the croissant into his hand.

  He nodded and turned away from her. Lisette tore off a piece of the baguette and followed, remaining almost a block behind until Claude stopped before the door of Pasquel’s home. She had only met the man twice but knew him on sight when he opened the door. He took the note, turned, and saw her. He paused for a moment, his brows furrowed. Lisette gave a slight shake of her head, and he disappeared inside. The moment he read the word falcon, he would be packed and gone.

  The boy continued on to Etienne’s. A servant came to the door this time and as much as Lisette wished to explain, she feared getting too close. If they already knew Etienne’s involvement, someone could be watching him now. It was the same reason she remained across the street from Pasquel’s door and traveled opposite of Claude.

  Still, she was confident he would understand they had been compromised and needed to