After what seemed an eternity but was in actuality only a few minutes, she was assisted over the low parapet, to lay gasping on the roof. The familiar face of Gustav peered above her as he began to undo the rope around her waist.
“Gustav!” she cried.
“I must get Armand up,” he told her. Quickly he went to the parapet and lowered the rope.
She got to her feet, still trembling from her ordeal. The wind was sharp up here on the rooftop. Then she turned and saw that she was not alone. A hollow-cheeked, wild-eyed man whose white hair and beard were long and straggly stood a few feet away, staring at her vacantly. He made no attempt to communicate with her, for which she was grateful since his vacant gaze held a look of madness. She moved away from him to stand near Gustav. The old man did not shift his eyes or his stance. He stood as if frozen to the spot.
Gustav strained at the rope, and in a few moments Armand came clambering over the parapet. He untied himself and then, smiling, clasped Enid to him in a kiss that burned their lips.
“Darling!” he murmured. “At last!”
“How did you know I was here?” she asked, gasping for breath.
“I didn’t. I came for the duke who once owned this place.” He nodded to the wild-looking man.
“Esmond kept him a prisoner. His wife was murdered.”
“Yes.” Armand nodded grimly. “At the moment he is surely insane. Who wouldn’t be, locked in a dark dungeon for almost two years? But I have seen worse cases recover with rest and the proper treatment.”
“What now?” Enid wondered, still clinging to Armand as if he might evaporate into the wind.
“We get away from here as quickly as possible.”
“What about the Dauphin?”
“The Dauphin?” Armand echoed sharply. “What about him?”
“He is a prisoner somewhere in this house.”
“I didn’t find him, and I searched all through the cellars.”
“They must have moved him then.”
Gustav came up to them, full of impatience. “Time for talk later. We are endangering ouselves every minute we remain here.”
“How do we escape?” she asked fearfully.
“By secret passage known only to the duke and his family. I learned about it from one of his cousins. It will take us safely down to the cellar into a tunnel leading to the family cemetery. The exit is through a vault in there.”
“And Esmond knows nothing about it?”
“It seems that way, or else he would have guards posted,” Armand said.
Gustav took the duke by the arm to guide him, and Armand led the way with Enid. A trapdoor in the rooftop gave them entry into the attic, an unfinished area above the upper floor. At one end there was a door hidden by a joining of beams. Armand knew its location and pushed it open. A dark space yawned beyond, within whose confines was a very narrow stairway that wound around and around in a dizzying manner. Enid could imagine that it took up very little room and so had not been noticed by Louis Esmond and the new occupants.
When they reached the cellar level, the winding stairway became a tunnel, so narrow and low that they had to progress through it on their hands and knees. After a long, almost unendurable struggle through this passage, they finally emerged into a dank and dusty mausoleum.
Enid saw the murky outlines of coffins that rested on shelves flanking both sides of the vault. She shuddered involuntarily. A cobweb brushed across her face and she gasped.
“It’s almost over,” Armand reassured her, holding her arm as he led her up several stone steps and out into the open. Gustav and the elderly duke followed.
They moved swiftly across the windswept burial ground, looking like phantoms who had risen from their graves, as indeed they had. Once outside the cemetery, they entered a narrow street, sped along it, and darted through an alley into another street, where a closed carriage was waiting. As soon as they were inside the vehicle, it was driven off.
Enid leaned on Armand’s shoulder and repeated her earlier question. “How did you know I was there?”
“We saw the light in your window and knew it was separate from the rest of the house. I assumed that the room held a prisoner, and I decided to risk going down on the rope. When I saw you there, I couldn’t believe my eyes.”
“I couldn’t believe it was you either, though I was hoping you had escaped from prison.”
“Thanks to Gustav. He made the escape of about a dozen of us possible. Now I’m back to saving others. My first assignment was to bring out the unfortunate duke.”
“And you found me as well,” she sighed, snuggling against him.
He stroked her hair. “Tell me, dearest, what are you doing in France? And how did you ever get into that house?”
She told him the story as briefly as she could, and he listened quietly. Soon the carriage came to a halt at a dark, modest-looking house.
“Around to the rear,” Armand whispered as the four of them left the coach.
They moved swiftly in the darkness to the rear door. Armand knocked on it, using a particular signal. After a long moment it was opened by a husky man who stepped aside to allow them to enter.
“We were beginning to worry about you, Count Beaufaire,” the man said.
“It took longer than I expected,” Armand replied.
They went down to the cellar, which was well lighted by candles and contained a group of six men seated at a round table sipping some wine. Enid needed only to glance at them to know that they were also fleeing aristrocrats. At her appearance they stood up hastily.
“It is all right, gentlemen,” Armand said happily. “This is Lady Blair from England, here under orders from the British secret service to help us.”
Enid was given a warm welcome, as was the haggard Duke of Aranjais, who was then taken away to be cleaned up and looked after. Enid stood in the background as Armand proceeded to tell his comrades about his having entered Esmond’s headquarters.
He ended by smiling in Enid’s direction and saying, “My reward was a special prize! This lady long ago promised her heart to me!”
His friends drank to her health, then to her and Armand’s future happiness. When the merriment had subsided, Enid asked Armand about her rejoining Kemble and the other members of the spy network.
“Let it wait for tomorrow,” Armand decided. “I must leave for Calais in the morning with these men, to see them on their way to England. In the meantime, tonight shall be ours!”
They left the group and disappeared up the stairs to a room Armand used from time to time. Once behind the closed door, alone at long last, they could only stare mutely at each other, relishing this moment after such a lengthy separation. Enid thought that everything she had endured since their last encounter had been worth the effort and the waiting. To see Armand standing before her, very much alive, his black eyes flashing, his strong features so dear, his body leaning toward her in yearning, filled her with a deep sense of joy.
That same feeling was reflected in his eyes, for Armand had never been happier than he was at this very moment. To him it embodied all that he had been fighting for, all that he believed in. And to think that Enid had endangered herself in his own cause! Her courage and determination were rare qualities, and he felt blessed indeed to be loved by such a woman.
Such a beautiful woman, he thought. He touched her golden hair, her cheeks, the soft flesh of her shoulder beneath the silk nightdress. Gently he removed the dressing gown from her, then the undergarment, and gazed at her supple body with renewed wonder. Enid’s flesh glowed under his warm eyes; her nipples grew taut with desire. She wanted to feel his lips sear her breasts, his tongue burn down the length of her until she had become a taper of flame.
Armand quickly shed his clothing and carried her to the bed. She wrapped her arms around him and ran her fingers through his hair and along the muscles of his back. He pressed his swollen maleness against her as his hungry mouth worshipped her and his caresses drove her to the peak
of passion. She arched her back to receive him, responding to his thrusts with her own insistent urgings. Again and again, higher and higher, their movements crescendoed into pulsating thunderings, and they became one, whole, flesh and spirit united for eternity.
25
In each other’s arms all the past and present perils had been forgotten. Their night of lovemaking had erased Enid’s memory of Esmond’s having so cruelly taken her. But when morning came, the grim reality of a France churning with turmoil could not be ignored.
Armand brought their breakfast tray up to the room himself. He sat on the edge of the bed, and Enid propped herself up against the pillows, to enjoy the morning meal.
After they had finished eating, Armand said, “Now tell me, what about the Dauphin?”
She told him as much as she knew, ending with, “Father Braun had definite information that the prince was a prisoner in Esmond’s headquarters.”
Armand looked troubled. “I swear I saw no sign of him.”
“Of course, you weren’t looking for him.”
“I examined every cell and found only the poor duke. And you were the only one in the upper part of the house.”
“Then either they moved him or he is hidden somewhere you didn’t look,” she decided.
“But where?”
“I have no idea. But since there is that one secret passageway, it follows that other passages could be hidden in the house.”
Armand considered this. “That is true.”
“Kemble will be urging the network to try to rescue me. I must get to them before they make a move that could be dangerous for them.”
“I’ll have a carriage take you to the lodging house. That way you’ll be sure to reach Kemble safely.”
“And you?”
“I must be on my way to Calais in an hour.”
Enid gave him a pleading look. “When will it end, Armand?”
“A long time from now, I fear,” he said sadly. “But my own usefulness is almost finished. After I complete my present assignment, I shall come back to Paris and join you. We can return to London together.”
“My dearest!” She leaned forward and kissed him with delight. “And if fortune smiles on us, perhaps we will save the Dauphin and take him along!”
“This Father Braun is obviously working with another section, for I haven’t met him yet. But it seems to me he was remiss in leaving the lad alone as he did.”
“He admits that.”
“You might as well tell him about the secret passage,” Aramand advised. “He can use it to make a further survey of the house, though I very much doubt he will find anything worthwhile.”
“He will be delighted to learn there is something there that is unknown to Esmond.”
“The passage is not connected with the main part of the house,” Armand told her, “only with the attic and the cellar. For every other place you uncover, you must use alternate means of escape—as I did with the dropped rope to rescue you.”
“I will explain it all to them,” she promised.
A half hour later he kissed her goodbye and sent her off in a carriage with a trusted agent. As she proceeded to rejoin Kemble and Renaud, she fell into low spirits once more. Armand was still involved in his risky work, and she was still involved in the mission to rescue the Dauphin. Anything could happen to either of them.
She received a small measure of satisfaction at the thought of Louis Esmond’s apoplexy when he found both her and the old duke gone. He would be beside himself with rage and desperate for revenge.
A feeling of excitement filled her when the carriage halted before the house that was their headquarters. The agent saw her to the door, and only when she and Kemble had thrown their arms about each other did he withdraw and return to the vehicle.
“I can scarcely believe my eyes!” the actor exclaimed. “I thought I would never see you alive again!”
“I was beginning to think the same. Did you find Ramon?”
“Dead as mutton!” Kemble said indignantly. “The poor little man was stabbed and battered as well!”
“I know.” She glanced up the stairway and trembled with remembered fear. “It was Esmond who killed him and took me away.”
“How did you manage to elude the scoundrel?”
“Where is Renaud?” she asked. “It will save my repeating the story if I tell you both at the same time.”
“In the kitchen,” Kemble replied. “In fact, Father Braun is here, and we were just holding a council of war on how to release you.”
They made their way to the kitchen, where Father Braun and the man who had posed as the midget’s mother greeted her. Enid noticed that Renaud was no longer wearing women’s clothing.
Kemble saw her glance and said, “Our friend Renaud thinks it’s not necessary to dress as a mother with his son gone.”
Renaud was disgusted. “Esmond is onto us! It’s too late for such charades!”
Father Braun seated her at the table, his expression grave. “Now, let us hear all about your capture and escape.”
She told them everything that had happened. “The secret passage will take you to the cellar level of the house,” she concluded.
Father Braun’s ruddy face showed his concern. “I wonder if it is even worthwhile. Your Count Armand claimed there was no one else imprisoned down there.”
“Maybe the prince is being kept somewhere else in the house. A hidden room, perhaps?” Enid suggested.
The priest stared at her. “You think I should venture there?”
“I do,” she said. “If you don’t believe you can find your way, I shall go with you.”
“I can manage by following your directions,” he assured her. “This is a task best looked after by one man.”
“When will you go?” Kemble asked.
“Tonight,” the cleric replied. “Just as soon as it is dark.”
Father Braun and Renaud left soon afterward, and Enid and Kemble were alone in the house. He grumbled, “Your being taken hostage and Ramon’s murder have halted everything.”
“Now we can start again.”
He frowned. “What do you think the chances are that the Dauphin is still alive?”
“I think they are good.”
“Why? Esmond and his ilk are determined to wipe out the royal family along with the nobles.”
“It will suit Esmond to keep the boy alive,” she said, pouring them both some tea she had made earlier.
“Why?”
“There is a battle for supremacy among the leaders of the masses, and Esmond plans to use young Louis Charles to bolster his ambition to become a party leader.”
“You’re saying he’ll keep the boy alive for purely selfish reasons?”
“Yes.”
“You may be right.”
“Judging by what he said, I’m certain of it.”
“He’ll be enraged to find you and the duke gone. And don’t think he won’t try to do something about it.”
“I doubt if he’d dare touch me again. At least I hope not. And the duke is on his way to England via Calais. He is in Armand’s safekeeping.”
Kemble’s brown eyes flashed angrily. “While I dawdle about, painted and dyed to look like your father, and worried sick about you, you are having a tender reunion with your lover!”
“Do you begrudge me that?”
“Of course I do!” he declared vehemently. “I’m sick of this business. We seem to be going in circles and getting nowhere!”
Enid laughed and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I think you are lonely for the stage and for your pretty Jenny.”
“She has a sweet face and a mild disposition—certainly better than yours!” the actor retorted.
“I have always said she was meant for you.”
“And I’ve always hoped that Armand would vanish and never be seen again!”
“I doubt if your wish will be fulfilled. He told me this morning that this will be his last mission.”
�
�What then?”
“He will make England his permanent home.”
“And you his wife?”
“If I’m ever able to be free of Andrew, yes.” She sipped her tea and grew reflective.
Kemble gave a deep sigh. “And I’m not even sure I’ll have a company to return to. My tight-fisted sister has probably alienated everyone by now.”
“Not Jenny and Susie,” Enid said. “They will fight back if Mrs. Siddons tries any tricks on them.”
“I suppose so. Lord, how I rue the day I met Sir Harry!”
“But think of the possibilities.” Enid tried to inject a bright note in her voice. “If the Dauphin is rescued by us and taken back to England, we shall be history-book heroes!”
“The way things are going, I wouldn’t give a lead shilling for my place in history,” Kemble groaned in typical melancholic fashion.
• • •
That night Father Braun left alone on his mission to Esmond’s headquarters. Because of the importance of his errand, they had agreed to wait up for his return. If he found the Dauphin and brought him back, their goal would be accomplished and they could return to London immediately.
Renaud had found some beef that Kemble had insisted was horsemeat, but which, with suitable sauces, had made a delicious dinner for the three of them. Now they sat drinking some of the fine red wine Father Braun had brought them from the monastery.
Kemble got up from the table and began to pace slowly back and forth. “Waiting again,” he muttered. “It seems I have been constantly waiting since I arrived in France.”
“He should return soon if he isn’t captured,” Enid said hopefully. “I gave him a complete picture of the tunnel and the vault.”
Renaud nodded. “The good father is not one to tarry. He knows what he is doing.”
“Then why did he let the lad slip through his fingers in the first place?” Kemble snapped.
Renaud shrugged. “We all make errors. Some can never be avoided.”
Vintage Love Page 58