by Jackie Ivie
“You’re insulting.”
“Of course. It’s what I do best.”
His nonchalant grin baited her as much as his words. Meanwhile, she was having trouble with her petticoats. It wasn’t a good time to argue, but she couldn’t resist pointing out the obvious.
“Barbarism is what you do best, Lord Tremayne.”
“So I’ve been told. Shall we put it to the test, Madame? I, for one, find a morning tryst much better accomplished when I’m not suspicious of every nook and cranny about me, but if you insist, I’ll be more than happy to accommodate you.”
“That wasn’t what I meant.”
It was difficult enough to face him while her fingers stumbled with ties at her waist, but that was her own fault. She hadn’t rung for the maid, and Gillian probably wouldn’t let her, since he probably enjoyed watching her fumble-fìngered attempts.
“Do I now?” He slid from under the sheets, and Helene couldn’t have closed her eyes if she wanted to as he walked toward her. “I seem to recall that you request it quite often. ‘Rip it, Gillian, or I will!”
Her eyes widened as he mimicked her words from their first lovemaking. She didn’t move. She didn’t think she could draw her next breath. She didn’t dare look at any other part of him, so she stared at the floor.
“I’m unfair, aren’t I?” he whispered.
“Someone...may be watching,” she answered.
“More than bloody likely. I wonder what they want, don’t you? I doubt it has much to do with me. I’m not the one Madame Josephine requested to see today, am I? Not that she’ll be serving tea or anything I like. Still, the French do brew an excellent cup of coffee, don’t they?”
“Madame…Josephine…wants…to see…me?” Every word was stuttered and shook.
“Really, darling…you should pay more attention.”
“When?”
“Colonel Fontenelle was quite profuse with his praise of the esteemed woman as he escorted us to our rooms. What? You didn’t hear him?”
“I…” She shook her head. It was easier.
“That’s entertaining. He was quite eloquent. I had no trouble hearing him. But you were having trouble? Why would that be, I wonder?”
“Don’t do this,” she whispered.
“I don’t suppose it had anything to do with the fact that we were on our way to your chamber? And your bed? No?”
“Please?”
“Come on, love, admit you. You like me. Where’s the harm in saying that?”
“No.” She spoke to her feet.
“You’d have me assume it’s just your body that likes me? Very well. I stand corrected.”
He moved away before she could react, laughter punctuating the move. She knew why. Everything on her body did more than like him. She worshipped him. He was whistling as he grabbing his clothing and walking toward his door.
“You will spare me the silk shirt, won’t you, love?” he said. “I’ll need it to attend the crush at the Countess Tilbury’s soiree this evening. You did allow the invitation, darling. Have you forgotten that, as well? Really, Helene. One would think you’ve a one-track mind.”
He closed the door before her slipper struck it, but it wouldn’t have hit his head, anyway. Actually, it would’ve hit a much more appropriate part of his anatomy, and that was a very amusing thought.
CHAPTER FOUR
“Are you certain you don’t have something a bit less impressive, Evette?”
The maid giggled and shook her head. ‘This is my Sunday best, Madame.”
“I can’t wear it, then. Show me something else.”
“My other uniform is dirty, Madame. I haven’t had time to launder it.”
“That would be perfect.”
“No, Madame. Please. I won’t allow you to be seen in it.”
Helene made a face and tried to keep the gathers of her white blouse on her shoulders. “How about trousers, then? You mentioned you could get some.”
“Renee isn’t your size, Madame. In fact, his clothing would overpower you worse than my own does.”
“I can’t go to the Rue de Concorde like this, Evette. You don’t know what it’s like there!”
“I hear things, even working for the new regime, Madame. You may be accosted, but Renee stands ready to escort us. I’m certain, if you command it, he’ll have to come, and then everyone in that neighborhood will think he has bought your favors, and no one will bother us.”
“Won’t he stand out?”
“There are soldiers everywhere, Madame. I’d be surprised if the Rue de Concorde isn’t crawling with them.”
“Do you have a cloak, too?” Helene turned back and forth in her chamber mirror. Even with a mob cap atop her hair, she looked voluptuous in Evette’s finery. The peasant blouse and wide, scarlet skirt were impossible to miss.
“Only my own, Madame.”
“Trade with me.”
“I couldn’t possibly wear satin! Merde! Do you want to get me sacked? What good will I be to Renee then? He’ll find another girl to woo.”
“I have a wool traveling cloak I can trade. Perhaps that will work?”
“The brown one? No, no, and no! Please see sense, Madame, and forego this expedition. I’ll have your violet day gown pressed for you, and you can rest before your appointment, as I’ve been instructed to oversee.”
“Evette, you promised to help me. Now go fetch Renee, and I’ll contrive something.”
“I have a shawl, Madame, which might make you more modest. I don’t think anyone will look at anything else if we don’t get you covered.”
Helene looked up to where Evette gestured and tried to raise the neckline of the shirt. It was much too big, because Evette had a large bosom. On Helene, the blouse was obscene. Of course, if Evette would unbend enough to lend Helene a chemise, it wouldn’t be so provocative, but she mustn’t anger her maid. It took all her persuasion and the last of her pocket change to get the woman to do her bidding already.
She also suspected Evette would bargain later with Colonel Fontenelle over the strange expedition Lady Tremayne was bent on accomplishing. But that wasn’t important. She’d worry over it later.
Helene’s own gossamer under-garments were exposed every time the blouse slipped. It made her appear as if she dressed this way on purpose. Gillian would probably act the barbarian and attack if he glimpsed her in such an outfit.
Thinking of him made her glance over her shoulder even though she knew it was foolish. Gillian wasn’t anywhere near the Peacock Palace, thanks to his masculine interests. And they were also behind the absence of Colonel Fontenelle.
She couldn’t believe the opportunity that arose when Gil whispered his request to the colonel, amid the chuckling over Lord Tremayne’s preference for blondes. They hadn’t even lowered their voices as they’d discussed it. The French must think their women were deaf to discuss such activities in their presence.
Helene sighed and stuck out her tongue at her attractively dressed reflection. She wasn’t even telling herself the truth. She knew they’d been speaking of houses of entertainment because she’d been listening at the keyhole, but she didn’t regret it. The timing was providential.
“Madame? Come quick. Renee has agreed, but he says he’ll need funds to secure a carriage.” Evette stuck her head in through Gillian’s door and gestured.
“My pockets are empty, Evette. I don’t have anything left.”
“Renee is risking grave punishment, Madame, I don’t think you realize what’ll happen if we’re caught.”
“I shudder to think of it, but I still have nothing.”
“Can you not ask your husband for more?”
“My husband is absent, Evette, but I’ll replace any funds we use. Will that suffice?”
“I do not think so.”
“But I have nothing, Evette.”
“What about your oh-so-beautiful, new necklace, Madame?”
“You jest!” The words were instinctive. Helene knew the woman wa
sn’t joking.
“Just two stones, Madame? You don’t know how difficult the times are. Two stones could make all the difference.”
Two perfectly matched diamonds in exchange for dubious assistance. The bargain made Helene sigh, but she nodded, hoping the price wouldn’t go any higher.
“Excellent. Now! Here’s the shawl I promised,” Evette waved her through the chamber door. “Now follow me, and be very quiet. Renee will meet us at the chapel door. Come, Madame. Quickly.”
Helene tossed the shawl over her head and followed. Even if this ended up costing the entire necklace, she was going to find out what happened to Sherry. Evette was astute enough to guess it. Brandy would’ve accomplished it much better, cheaper, and without any interest. It was a shame Helene couldn’t slip into her act anymore.
The Rue de Concorde hadn’t been a pleasant place, but it hadn’t looked as frightening as the road their carriage turned into. Helene scanned the roofs through the grimy window until she saw the drain pipes she remembered. The houses those pipes led to made her shudder.
“Do you wish an escort, Madame?”
Renee asked it, smiling at her in a flirtatious fashion that every Frenchman seemed to be born with.
“No…thank you.”
“At least to the door, Madame?” Evette inserted. “Renee may be able to find out your information easier. Without personal danger.”
Evette reached for Helene’s arm. The concern in her eyes seemed genuine, but Helene was under no illusions about the woman’s attentions. She worried over what might happen should any mishap befall Helene while under Colonel Fontenelle’s watch.
“Oh. Very well.”
Helene allowed Renee to help her out. The amount of time he held her waist made Evette frown and would probably get even worse attention from her husband — if Gil ever found out.
“Come along, my daytime darling.”
Renee spoke loudly as they reached the door to the establishment. And then he simply opened the door and walked in. The hall was dark. Decaying. Containing the smells of a thousand decadent sins.
“Ah, Madame! Are you the one to see about a room?”
Renee accosted a spindly woman at the steps, and Helene barely hid the shock at recognizing the same woman Sherry placated with funds every week.
“How dare you bring your own woman?” she snapped. “You insult my establishment!”
“Have a heart, Madame. I merely wish a tiny bit of time with my fiancée.”
The woman snorted, and Helene clung to Renee’s side as if he spoke the truth. And that’s when she got a full measure of her stupidity. She wasn’t safe here. Only Brandy would be, she was too far away.
“Fiancée? Well. I never stand in the way of true love, Monsieur. Let me see your gold.”
Renee pressed a diamond into her hand. She looked at it in surprise, then turned to hug the wall. “You’ve got yourself a room. Second floor, second door. Be quick. The tenant’s out.”
Helene was already climbing stairs. He grabbed at her elbow as they passed the specified door.
“I’m going to the attic, Renee,” she whispered.
“No, Madame. You heard her. The second floor.”
“I didn’t come here for a love tryst with you! I came for answers, and they’re at the top! Stay here if you like. I’ll be on the top floor, the last room at the end of the hall on the left.”
He stayed with her, shadowing her as they reached the right floor. The hall narrowed even more, and then she was there. At the door. Her hand was shaking as she turned the knob.
The woman on the bed wasn’t Sherry. Helene caught a brief glimpse before the woman stirred. And the next moment she was gaining her feet and screeching.
“Calm yourself, Madame. Now.”
Renee’s raised fist stopped the woman’s diatribe more than his words. Helene stepped around him.
“What happened to Sherry?”
She used the gutter French of her youth and ignored Renee’s reaction beside her.
“Ah, a sister. And look at you! You’ve come up in the world, but you should find richer clients. Soldiers aren’t paid well. And sometimes, they’re not paid at all.”
She laughed at her jest.
“What happened to Sherry?”
“You must mean the girl with the wild child.”
“Wild child?” Helene asked it tonelessly.
“I heard all about it, I did. How this Sherry girl hid the results of a mad nobleman’s seed, some chit they called Brandy. Stupid girls, really. Naming themselves after good liquor. The place is supposed to be haunted, too.”
“Haunted?”
“Folks say Sherry killed the other before guilt sent her to her maker.”
Dots filled her vision. It was difficult to see around them. Helene was close to fainting, and probably would have if Renee hadn’t been there to hang onto. She clung to the coarse wool of his uniformed arm.
“What the devil’s going on here?” a voice asked. “I sent you to the second floor, my handsome soldier, and what happens? You disobey me completely. Out! Get out! Do you hear?”
It was impossible not to hear as the skeletal landlady shouted at them. Renee bent toward her and lowered his voice, demonstrating a considerable amount of charm.
“Forgive me, Madame. I was ever troubled with numbers.”
The woman chuckled. “No harm, but you’ve missed your chance. The tenant’s back. And I don’t believe Gloria wants to give up her bed, do you? So come along, you two.”
Helene watched her opportunity slipping away. She refused to go back with Renee until she had her answer. She pulled her arm free and addressed the landlady.
“What happened to Sherry?”
The woman’s eyes narrowed, pinching her nose.
“Well. Well. You’ve a passing resemblance to the wild child, don’t ye? Some by-blow of the same gent, perhaps?”
“I’m getting tired of asking.”
The woman held out her hand. Helene waited until Renee put the second diamond into the harridan’s palm. She’d have to reimburse him, later, when they got back, but that was moot. The necklace had nearly thirty more stones, and she’d already be lying to Gil if he asked about it.
The consump’ got her,” the landlady replied.
“Consumption?”
“Not that she wanted to live after she sent the little one away. I think it ripped her heart out. All she did was sob her eyes out, she did. Wasn’t long afterward that she passed on, leavin’ me with ghosts in my attic and a room to clean out. It wasn’t pleasant. Right, Gloria?”
“When?”
Helene couldn’t bear to listen, but her mouth wasn’t obeying.
The woman held out her hand, Renee lifted his shoulders, and the landlady’s mouth went tight.
“Come along, daytime darling,” Renee said. “There’s not much else this crone can tell us. And I’ve a mind to ‘fess up and tell the captain about the theft of his wife’s gems. I think I’ll even tell him who I gave ‘em to.”
The threat was effective and immediate, as the landlady not only answered, but her voice shook.
“A couple o’ days. Maybe a week. With the way she was hacking up blood, it was God’s own mercy, it was.”
Helene shoved past her, Renee at her back. She was almost to the street before tears obliterated the path. Oh Lord! Sherry hadn’t sent her away because she’d tired of Brandy and didn’t want her anymore. Sherry had known she was dying and couldn’t keep her safe. And that’s why she’d sent Brandy away.
Helene was on her knees, doubled up with holding back sobs as Renee slammed the door behind them. She could barely see the street beneath her.
“Madame? You’ll be all right? Evette!”
Helene heard a door open, and then, God help her – Gillian Tremayne’s hands jerked her up from the walkway and dangled her above the ground.
“I’m not going blind after all. It is my wife! Goddamn it, Helene, I’m seriously considering spanking yo
u this time! You have less sense than a—! Where the hell did you get this outfit?”
Helene shook her head. Closed her eyes. Begged for oblivion. She couldn’t speak. Not yet. And even if she did, he’d just think it another lie. She’d never be vindicated. There wasn’t any proof for any of it. None. There hadn’t been a way to prove her story for almost two years.
“Take...me...home,” she whispered.
Gillian quit shouting. His hands tightened on her upper arms. “Open your eyes, Helene,” he requested.
She did.
“Good. Now tell me why you procured this fellow’s services.”
Renee looked uncomfortable and small beside Gil, shifting his weight from foot to foot. Helene looked at him, and almost pitied him.
“Renee,” she said. “In the event you failed to note when we arrived, this is my husband. Lord Gillian Tremayne.”
Gil’s expression hardened. It matched the hands on her arms. His fingers tightened and then his arms shook, making her body waver.
“It is your pure luck that Colonel Fontenelle had business at the Consulate, Helene. Yours, too, Renee. I have some idea what the punishment would be for your actions today.”
“But, Gillian—”
Gillian interrupted her, his voice harsh. Clipped. Authoritative.
“Get back to your post, Renee, and say nothing!”
Renee snapped to attention before racing to join Evette in the carriage. Only, there wasn’t any sign of the maid. She hadn’t made a sound, nor was she visible. That was unfortunate. Gillian didn’t look in any mood to listen to an explanation, but it would be easier if he thought Renee hadn’t been alone with her.
“Good man. Smart. Obedient. Which is more than I can say for you, love. Damn it! This time you’ve gone too far.”
He’d lifted her into his arms and ceased ranting before approaching his conveyance. The driver was studiously looking everywhere but at them. That didn’t mean he wasn’t finding it interesting. Anyone on this street at such an hour would find it impossible to overlook. Procuring a woman was rarely such a spectacle, and Gil was highly noticeable.