Page 56 of A Night of Secret Surrender
‘I see.’
Behind him, in the shadow of the town walls, she could see Nolan Legrand and Noah Muller, two of the right-hand men of Mattieu Benet. She knew that there would be others, too, somewhere close. She had spoken to the first two an hour ago when Summer had left her at the tavern and had gone to find Aurelian de la Tomber in order to ascertain which boat he might rely on for a passage to England. When she had met the Les Chevalier agents by the crossroads at the edge of the town, she had given them her troth.
‘Take me back to Paris and let the English Major go.’
‘Why should we do that?’
‘Because I killed Guy Bernard and must answer for it, and because it was Benet himself who ordered the death of the Dubois family. Felix Dubois had been his partner in a business and his death would see great sums of money being transferred back into Benet’s accounts. Politics was a cover for greed and one that Mattieu Benet has used many a time. He is out of control and a murderer and needs to be stopped.’
‘Liar.’
‘Ask Aurelian de la Tomber. He was there. Ask him what was known by Clarke’s men and the Ministry of War.’
Muller and Legrand had looked at each other, measuring the weight of the words she had thrown into the ring.
Benet. De la Tomber. Treason. Such allegations, if found to be true, could change the face of the Parisian spy nests for ever and she knew the two men before her were both ready for the chance to lead Les Chevaliers. She had heard them talk. She had noted their ambition. Even Shayborne would be a reasonable exchange for the sort of secrets of which she spoke and the hunger for power was an easy thing to feed.
‘I will give myself up without a fight if you pretend you never saw Major Shayborne. He will be gone by nightfall, spirited out of France by magic. Nobody will ever know he was here. You have nothing to lose by it and everything to gain.’
‘God!’ It was Nolan Legrand who stated this and she knew that she had them.
‘But I need to say goodbye to the English Major or he will not go. Then I will return to you.’
‘Your farewell shall be in a public place within our sight.’
She turned to look across the square. ‘There. Over by those seats and well in range of a bullet.’
‘Why would you do this? Why should we trust you?’
‘Because I want revenge for the deaths of the Dubois children and I am tired of being ashamed.’
The present moment again returned with a force, the sound of voices, the slap of water, the smell of fish. When Summer reached over and took her hand she held on with a grief that made her feel dizzy. Their last seconds together. Their final goodbye.
‘If you ever need me, Celeste...’
‘I will know where to find you.’ Unlacing her fingers, she stepped away.
‘If you would trust me...’
‘I have.’ She didn’t let him finish, for she knew exactly what he would say.
Fumbling in his pocket for his purse, he held it out, but she did not reach for it. Instead, she turned and walked, one step and then two. When she looked around on the count of thirty he was gone.
She watched the boat leave as she followed Legrand and Muller out of the port on horseback. They had tied her hands to the pommel and Muller led the animal with a care that she appreciated. Not too fast. Not too slow. The white sails of the fishing vessel unfurled against the blue sky, turning in the wind for England, the noise of them lost in distance.
‘Please God let him be safe,’ she whispered. ‘Please let Summer live.’
Chapter Eight
London
‘You’ve come back a damned hero, Shay, and with a new title to boot, though I am sorry to hear of the passing of your brother.’
Lytton Staines, the Earl of Thornton, sat in the seat opposite him, his feet propped up on a leather ottoman. It was mid-afternoon at White’s Club and quiet.
‘Miss Smithson thinks you are the most heroic man in all of existence. I heard her say it to my youngest sister yesterday. Her cap is set at you by all accounts.’
‘She barely knows me.’
