Page 84 of Beyond the Lavender Fields
The crooked grin ever-present on Père’s face fled. “Themonsieurandmadame, where are they?”
“At home,” Caroline said. “Maman and Papa are still at the house. Papa thinks he will be able to reason with thesans-culottes, especially when they see Père Franchicourt is not there. We escaped out the back gate and through the alley, but we could see people gathering farther down the street.”
“Your mother will not be able to hold back her fear. She’ll give it away.” Gilles pulled at the back of his hair. Martel would see through any attempt to hide the truth.
“She was still asleep when I left. Papa was hoping to have done with it before she realized.” Caroline spoke haltingly, as though she could see the hopelessness of the situation as she explained it.
Père stroked his chin. “After the riots in Paris, I have little confidence in that plan. Your skulking friend is too thorough not to turn over every item in that house.”
Gilles nodded. Martel would find something. And then burn the house to the ground.
“I will go to Belsunce. You hide them here.” Père moved back into the corridor toward his room.
Gilles caught his arm. “If Martel sees you, he will know we’re involved and where to find them.”
The sly smirk on his father’s face should have rankled him. Instead, it mellowed the rising storm in Gilles’s chest. “You have no confidence in my stealth? I’ve been pirating longer than you’ve been alive, boy.”
“I thought you said it was privateering.”
The waning firelight glimmered in Père’s gaze. “They’re all just words.” With a shrug, he disappeared into the dark dining room.
Gilles closed the door to Maxence’s room, making the candle in his hand flicker. Max would snarl like an injured wolf if he knew a Catholic priest was now hiding under his bed. Gilles wondered if he would ever tell his brother. Would he even see Max again to have the option?
Best not to think of that. He turned toward the stairs and nodded for Caroline to ascend before him. She clutched her cloak tightly around her, eyes on the floor. “I’m so sorry, Gilles. I didn’t know where else to go.”
“I wouldn’t have wished you to go anywhere else.” He rested the candlestick in her hand so she could light her path as they mounted the stairs to his room.
Maman was asleep below, and moments before, the back door had closed, signaling Père’s departure. The priest was safe in his hiding place. Gilles pushed open the door of his room. Caroline paused on the threshold, peering into the shadows. They were practically alone in the darkness, the rich amber of her perfume filling the stairway. He clenched his fists and averted his eyes from the soft curls that brushed across her brow and neck. It was all he could do not to snatch her into his arms again and cover her lips with his. His whole being screamed to do it. What if this were his final chance? The heavens only knew what tomorrow would bring.
But Caroline would be gone, that much was certain.
He flinched at the sting in his chest. Likely he would not know where she went. The thought of living in a world without Marie-Caroline Daubin ... He scrunched his eyes closed. Tomorrow. He’d think on it tomorrow.
“I was unkind,” she said. “That night in the garden. I—”
“You were in pain. Confused. All is forgiven.” He gently guided her into the room with a hand on her elbow. Medical books he hadn’t been able to focus on for weeks lay open and scattered across the bed from his attempt at study earlier in the day. “I’m sorry I don’t have a better place for you to hide. When we find your parents, perhaps we can find a better situation.” He knelt and ran his hands under the bed, feeling for any boxes or books that might have been shoved beneath by accident.
Caroline lowered herself to the floor beside him to light his search with the candle. The floor looked so rough and unyielding in the dimness. “I would rather be safe than comfortable. You’ve done more than enough for me tonight.” She set the candlestick on the floor and brushed her hair back, ready to crawl under the bed.
“Here, take this.” Gilles snatched the pillow from his bed and stuffed it underneath. It might make her head too high off the ground to fit, but the thought of her lying for hours on the wood floor did not sit well.
“Oh, no. I couldn’t.” She paused, kneeling back on her heels.
He waited for her to speak. The room rested so silent, their breaths seemed to crash in his ears like waves lapping the shore.
“I thought it would work,” she finally said, voice strained. She raised her head. “I wanted it to work more than I’ve wanted anything in my life. Even more than I wanted things to work with Nicolas.”
Gilles nodded. She loved him, then. “I had hoped ... That is, after all this was over, I thought perhaps ...” Perhaps he could share his life, whatever it ended up being, with the one person whose fiery passion brought a light to his existence more brilliant than any he’d ever dreamed of.
“I don’t think it will ever be over, Gilles.”
He blew out sharply. “Not for a very long time.” Years. Even decades.
“It’s better this way.” But the tightness in her words hinted she did not want to believe them any more than he did.
Gilles took her hand and cupped it in both of his. His fingers slid over the cool metal of a ring about her thumb. Its gold lettering shimmered. Grandmère’s ring.
He brought her hand to his lips and kissed the smooth, amber-scented skin. Père needed his help. Maman needed to be warned. The house needed to be set at rights in case someone arrived. But he would have given anything to stay just as they were all night. If the horrible letter from Max had not come, would they have been spending this night together on the happiest of terms and in the comfort of each other’s arms rather than crouching in fear on the hard floor?
