“If it’s really bad, maybe two shifts?”
“I think,” he decided, “there might be worse places to be than an Irish stable yard.”
“And it’s my Irish stable yard…it’s never dull.”
“Lots of ladies?”
“Everywhere you turn.”
“Pretty ones?” Bastien sat up straighter.
“Try stunning,” Adam confided in the boy. “But they’re all the finest you’ll see.”
“Maybe I’ll give it a go then.” He felt a tiny flicker of something that might, perhaps, be hope.
“One thing you need to agree to.”
“What’s that?” Bastien narrowed his eyes, betraying his suspicion—there was always one thing.
“If ever you think I’m not paying you enough…you make sure to tell me?”
Bastien felt his eyes grow wide, disbelief clear in his voice when he demanded, “What, I’ll be getting paid?”
“You’ll be working, so you’ll be getting paid.”
“Well, then”—he almost managed a smile—“when do we go?”
“As soon as these storms clear. We’ll have to go via England.” Adam pulled a face. “But we’ll be in Ireland soon enough and you can get on with admiring the lassies—just don’t let Miss Dee catch you.”
“I won’t,” he vowed, “and I’ll leave you the prettiest, of course.”
“Well, I’m the foreman, so you should.”
“I might,” Bastien decided with a smile, slowly uncurling from his unhappy bed of straw, “be ready for that bed now.”
“Come on then.” Adam offered his hand. “And have a nip of brandy to see you to sleep?”
A pause, then he reached out, closing his fingers gratefully around Adam’s before he got to his feet. “If I told you something,” Bastien found himself venturing as they made for the door, “would you tell anyone? If I told you not to?”
“It’d be tough to know until you said it,” Adam mused. “But if you trust me, you can give it a try.”
Bastien battled with himself, not quite able to bring himself to name Tessier as he told Adam, “That man, the one that killed my mum—she said he was my dad.”
“If that’s true, then he’s got a finer lad for a son than he could ever deserve,” Adam said after a moment’s thought. “The best lad I know.”
He had nothing to say to that, feeling once again that everything might somehow be all right, his hold on Adam’s hand tightening as they walked out into the fresh air.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Gaudet awoke before the dawn the following morning, listening for any sign of the storm that had raged as they’d slept fitfully. He heard nothing, breathing a sigh of relief that, perhaps, they might be safe in England within the day. As he opened his eyes, his gaze found William immediately, settling lovingly on the man who rested in his arms, who had saved him in more ways than he could ever say. Now, in the gray light, he told himself that whatever happened, William would be saved, no matter what new hazards faced them in these closing stages of this long, arduous journey.
I would give my life for you, he promised silently, stroking William’s hair. I love you.
“In a moment,” came the sleepy response, William stirring to cuddle closer, “I promise.”
He kissed William’s hair in reply, smiling at the characteristically unexpected observation. Those closed eyelids flickered a second later, William blinking awake to just gaze sleepily at Gaudet.
“The storm has passed, chérie. We will sail for home today.”
“Home.” The Englishman actually smiled. “It will be good to find out what that is.”
“You are welcome to my own nest,” Gaudet whispered. “It will be yours, too, if you wish it. I have marvelous people who look after me.”
“Then I look forward to joining the household,” William whispered, snuggling into Gaudet’s arms “If you will have me.”
Gaudet’s answer was a lingering kiss, his heart fit to burst with happiness, and when he spoke again, it was in a whisper. “I feel that for all of us, things will be righted when we are home.”
“And the boy,” William added after a long pause, “he’ll be all right, too.”
“To lose one’s mother to violence…” Gaudet ducked his head, pushing away the wave of sadness before he concluded, “We must make sure that both of our young charges are kept safe and happy from this day forward.”
“Your sister still doesn’t like me.” There was a definite smile, though. “Is it treason to refuse to wear rouge when commanded by the king?”
“My sister has lost her husband, her friends,” Gaudet commented between soft kisses. “And she liked few enough people as it is. She will soon warm to your many wonderful aspects.”
“My aspects are indeed somewhat warm as we speak,” came the grave response.
“We have a little time before that rather dashing professor whisks us away to safety. Shall we use it wisely?”
“What exactly,” the decidedly breathless murmur told Gaudet that William was more than open to suggestions, “did you have in mind?”
The discussion soon turned rather more practical and as the sun rose over a beautiful day in Le Havre, as their party prepared to flee for its very life, Gaudet was less aware of his surroundings. Instead he was devoted to having as much fun with as little noise as possible, given the close confines in which the lodgings had placed them. What the morning would bring mattered not for now. All that mattered was these moments together.
“Well,” William finally gasped, eyes closing briefly as he gathered himself, “that was highly instructive.”
“And you”—Gaudet let out a long, delighted sigh—“Chérie, you are my dream come true.”
“You have to say that,” William observed, “now that we’re—”
“I say it because you are mine and I love you.”
“I am,” came the admission, “I am yours.”
“Gents!” Gaudet took William in his arms as there was a heavy knock at the door and Dee called, “We sail for home today—out of bed and into boots.”
“Home…” Gaudet could barely believe that the time had come, that he would soon be happily back in the salons and theaters, with William on his arm. “I have missed my house so. When we get home, I shall wear a dozen outfits a day and I shall have my tailor enhance my lovely red coat with some silver adornments.”
“When we get home,” William corrected, “you won’t wear any outfits at all.”
“Just perfume and a smile?” He slapped William’s bottom gently. “And the occasional dab of rouge.”
“I can’t see a problem with that,” was the contented reply. “I suppose you have to get dressed now?”
“I could go like this, but I don’t think it counts as keeping a low profile.” With that, Gaudet sprang from the bed, pulling William along with him. In fact, William’s spirited efforts to help him dress proved something of a hindrance, fresh kisses and embraces taking precedence over urgency. Eventually they were dressed and ready to leave, William pausing at the door to look around the small room with a sigh.
Gaudet slipped his arm around his companion’s waist and murmured, “It has been quite a trip.”
He left unsaid the part about this man, who he had once thought the torturer of the south, changing his life. No mention of how he had taken a creature of vanity who’d lived for the next moment in the footlights, the next note of appreciation from the queen or some other notable, and turned him into a man who could love, could be loved.
“You have changed me”—a kiss to William’s cheek—“for the better, my love.”
“You have made me,” came the reply, “want to live again.”
“André!” Claudine knocked firmly on the door. “Come on, man.”
“He’ll be there in a moment, woman,” William called back, eyes widening. “Now she really won’t like me.”
“Woman?” The door flew open, Claudine wild-eyed as she juggled an as
sortment of luggage. “You may address me as Madame Plamondon, sir. André, come along.”
“Yes, Madame.” Gaudet laughed, exclaiming to William, “Well!”
“Well!” William repeated before shaking his head and following Gaudet from the room.
Downstairs, the party was gathered in the kitchen, the odd atmosphere of anticipation and anxiety palpable. Bastien was the only one to seem anything like cheery, sticking close to Adam as he loaded pistols on the kitchen table, giving the lad a quiet instruction on how to do so. Dee stood by the filthy window, peering out keenly, and at the arrival of the final party members, he turned to greet them with the ghost of a smile.
“This is the end of the adventure, thank the Lord,” he told them. “You are to go ahead. I shall follow behind. This limp, you know.”
“What about Tessier?” William asked the question with obvious care, noting the shock on Harriet’s face at her father’s words. “We should all go together.”
“We know from what the young man told us”—Dee offered Bastien a supportive smile—“that he is alone.”
“You know me and I’m not one to argue.” Adam addressed his best friend. “But let’s stick together this time, so we all get on that boat?”
“Together,” Gaudet agreed. “I am sorry, Professor, but I would not want us to separate. You have saved us all. We would not leave you behind for the sake of a limp.”
“I’m on a stick.” Dee sighed. “I will slow you all down if there is trouble.”
“We go together.” William’s tone was one that brooked no argument. “Stick and all.”
“I will follow along.” Dee patted his daughter’s hand. “Tessier’s quarrel is with me.”
“We will not take no for an answer. We go together,” Harriet told him softly and, after a moment, he nodded and kissed her cheek very quickly.
“Come on then”—Dee turned for the door—“Captain Pascaud awaits.”
“If anything happens,” William murmured to Gaudet, “you must make sure your sister and that boy get to the ship.”
“No, chérie.” Gaudet shook his head urgently as they made their way to the door. “I place them in your care—you are the hero, I am simply a playwright.”
The party made their way out into the new dawn, Dee leading them from the house of Roucelle and down toward the dock. The streets were already busy, the sound of the waking quay filling the air. Gaudet found himself studying every face, examining every passing figure for him.
“I’m armed,” William murmured from his side. “Just keep going.”
Gaudet nodded, pressing on through the streets.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Despite the seeming ease with which they made their way, William found he could not quite shake a feeling of anxiety. They outnumbered Tessier easily, of course, and the chances were he had more on his mind after his recall to Paris without worrying about this small group. Yet, at the same time, there was something in the air, like a storm coming in. He peered around, alert, staying close to Gaudet as he felt for the reassurance of the gun he had under his coat.
The little dauphin in Claudine’s arms seemed to sense his anxiety and grew increasingly fractious during the walk, griping and reaching out to his uncle and Papillon, grumbling that he wanted to be with the dog and her papa. Eventually, Claudine turned to her brother and asked, “Would you mind taking him, André? He will not settle otherwise?”
“Of course,” Gaudet beamed, patting William’s arm as he stepped forward to take the child from her.
Once again, William glanced at the people around them, noticing all too casually the cloaked figure who seemed somehow different to the other beggars who were similarly clad. Something in the bearing of the figure was too upright and beneath the tattered cloak, the shoe that peeped out was familiar, the leather toe one he had seen before.
It was with a jolt of horror that William realized where he had seen it, remembered that same shoe flashing past his face as it had kicked again and again. It had been adorned with a silver buckle then but it was the same shoe, the one that had adorned the foot of Vincent Tessier.
His step faltered, mind whirling as he tried to work out what to do. The moment to shoot on instinct had passed, and now he was left with the sudden realization that he had no choice but to follow.
Tessier had obviously deduced the party’s destination and, swirling the cloak around himself, disappeared into one of the many labyrinthine alleyways that would lead him to the docks. Dee led the group through those same winding lanes. With a last, longing look to ensure that Gaudet was fully occupied with trying to settle the increasingly unhappy child, William took a deep breath, whispered once more his love for the Frenchman and hurried after the disappearing Tessier.
I will be with you on that boat, William told them silently, and we will soon be home.
Hand on his weapon, he could not remember a time when his senses had been so heightened, every movement, every sound a possible clue as to Tessier’s whereabouts. He would find him, he was certain, and he would make sure the man never troubled them again, whatever that took.
It became obvious as he rounded a corner why Tessier had chosen this particular route to the dock. It ended in a high wall that had long since become the dumping ground for all manner of harbor rubbish that was simply thrown over it, piling into a mountain of filth that sloped up to the lip of the wall. It was here that Tessier scaled the mound of rotting waste with no problem whatsoever. As he settled at the edge of the brickwork, he cast his cape aside to reveal a concealed rifle, perfect for picking off a more distant quarry.
There was not, William was certain, much time. He approached as quietly and quickly as he could, heart hammering as he followed the path Tessier had taken. His pistol was drawn and ready for the inevitable moment when the Frenchman would sense his presence and turn, finger tightening on the trigger even as he felt cold steel on his throat and heard Jacquet hiss, “Looks like I found a lost spy.”
William froze, wondering if Dee and his party would hear if he shouted a warning, the impossibility of that hitting him even as he said, “You stay with him, Monsieur, and you lose.”
Now, in the closing moments of his life, William comforted himself with the knowledge that if nothing else, he might have caused just enough of a distraction for the party to reach and board the vessel. Indeed, Tessier had turned from his single-minded intention of aiming the rifle and appeared torn, eventually slipping down from his perch to stand before William.
“Thirty seconds to gut a spy.” His smile was cold. “I believe I can spare that.”
“Thirty seconds?” William asked. “You’re nowhere near as good as you think.”
Tessier met that challenge with another smile and reached into his coat for a knife, plunging it toward William’s stomach with alarming speed. He was not, however, quite fast enough to sidestep the poodle that flew around the corner in a whirlwind of white fur, weaving through the collected limbs with enough speed to completely wrong-foot Jacquet. Even as the guard moved to avoid her, she sank her teeth hard into his ankle and he pitched sideways, twisting William clear of Tessier’s blade. William hit the floor hard right in front of his own discarded gun. He scrabbled quickly to retrieve it.
“I told you,” Gaudet told William as he, too, rounded the corner, pistol drawn, “don’t wander off!”
Jacquet was on his feet again in a second, head whipping from left to right to look from the men to Tessier, clearly weighing up ideology versus freedom and, when it seemed ideology was wanting, he took off running from the alley. He hadn’t gone far before there was the sound of a pistol shot and Adam’s voice calling their names.
For Tessier, however, ideology was all and he flung himself at William, the knife slashing wildly before him. It was sheer luck that he managed to lift the gun, pulling the trigger on the advancing Tessier.
He couldn’t miss at such a range. Tessier let out a howl of fury as the bullet hit home, the Butcher of Orlé
ans sprawling back across the alleyway. Summoned by the sound of the gun, Adam’s voice grew nearer, then Bastien darted into the alleyway and yelled, “Come on, they’ll go without us!”
“The wall,” William managed to shout. “Over the wall!”
Snatching up the poodle, Bastien called to the unseen Adam, “We’ll see you at the boat.” He dashed nimbly up the pile of rubbish and, with a spirited cry of excitement, vaulted over the wall, leaving Gaudet to let out a cry of, “Papillon!”
“Come on.” William grabbed the Frenchman’s arm, the next moment dragging him upward to follow the little boy.
“Do I look like a man who jumps walls?” Gaudet had time to shriek before he did just that, landing with a cry of surprise on his feet, safe in view of the boat.
Harriet, Pap settled in her arms, and Adam and Dee were standing on the gangplank of the vessel that was now held in place by just one mooring rope, the professor remonstrating furiously with the captain who, in a raised voice, was telling him, “I can’t have bloody delays.”
“Here are the gentleman and lad now,” Dee replied serenely, stepping aside to let Bastien dart aboard. “There really is no need for shouting, sir. Have you never seen an escaping playwright before?”
William’s own leap was less dignified, a loud curse escaping as he let Gaudet pull him along, yelling, “If that boat goes, I’ll shoot everyone on it.”
“Come on.” Dee beckoned with just a hint of urgency.
Gaudet seemed set on tearing William’s arm from its socket as he hurtled along, racing up the raising gangplank and onto the deck of the ship.
“Go, go, go!” William heard himself yelling even as his feet hit the deck. “Go!”
“Monsieur,” Claudine said from where she stood, the child in her arms regarding him with a regal look, “there is nowhere to go from here.”
“Quite right,” Gaudet agreed, voice full of nervous energy. “We are safe!”
“Safe?” William demanded, the pain in his ankle suddenly hitting full force. “Bloody hell!”
The Star of Versailles Page 30