Page 26 of Lord Ashley's Beautiful Alibi
Kane’s hope stirred to life. “What? Quickly, tell me.”
Ramsey took a drink and poked Kane’s arm, giving the impression he spoke about something hilarious. “This special person visited a certain friend, you see, recently in Compiègne.”
“However,” Fournier added with a nod, “I have it on authority the one we want is in Varennes.”
Varennes?“The little town in the east?” Kane was stumped. This was where Louis and his wife and family were discovered during their escape from Robespierre on their way to Vienna.
“Near German states.” Fournier, whose mother came from a small German principality that bordered France, had a twinkle in his eye. “Javohl, mein Herr.”
Kane’s mind whirled. Why would Madame St. Antoine go so far east? If she were afraid of someone, she would seek friends in a small town. Varennes was small. Did she know anyone there? “Good news, then. Fortunate that we are about to see certain people here begin their summer holiday. I say we are each traveling, too.”
“I should visit my grandmother in Durlach.” Dirk took a long draw on his wine. His maternal family lived in a section of Karlsruhe, the capital of the German state of Baden. The margrave had taken a liking lately to the First Consul of France. “The Black Forest calls to me.”
“Will you hunt a few boar?” Ramsey chuckled.
“I have hunted a fewboreshere, and I’m ready to down others in my mother’s land,” Dirk said. “I understand a few in this town become dangerous to them.”
“A problem for us there?” Kane asked Dirk.
“A big one. New treaties that affect one important family. My friends are,” Dirk said, surreptitiously glancing around, “missing.”
“Go quickly, then.” Kane turned to Ramsey. “And you, sir?”
“Official duties. I will tell it abroad that I travel with Dirk as far as Verdun. I understand the citadel there has a few British prisoners whom Fouché denies exist. Against the treaty and all our new friendship, wouldn’t you say?”
“But you pause in Varennes?” Kane asked Ram.
“I do.” Ramsey’s gaze drifted to Augustine as he spoke to Kane. “And you have plans to travel soon?”
“I do. To go north, I need a traveling companion to help me with details. I am anxious to get started. Plus, time grows short.”
And my enchantment with my alibi greater.
Chapter Seven
Gus had wantedto talk with Ashley more, but she had her social duties to perform. She sped away to do them.
Her aunt hosted a unique blend of her enduring friends today, and Gus had not yet greeted each one. Cecily was a stickler for protocol. It was another of her moves that had helped her survive and prosper. Gus would follow her footsteps. It was wise to do so.
Her aunt, who had come to France long before the revolution to be introduced to the old Duc d’Orleans—or Philippe Égalité, as he was later known before he was guillotined—was well received in many social circles, old and new. All were formidable. Most were here today. Madame Bonaparte had not yet arrived, but she was expected.
Talleyrand, minister of foreign affairs, was here already. He had lived in London for many years, and had known the Bourbons and the revolutionaries. He had worked in various capacities for both. While he did pretty things, Talleyrand was not in any sense of the word a pretty man. Nor was his archenemy, Joseph Fouché, the chief of police.
Fouché was another who kept his head and his sense, making him a good choice to ferret out rebels and suppress undesirables. That man was absent today. The sly fox had ingratiated himself with many in different political circles so that, at any giventime, he could be called upon to round up any segment of the population on the whimsy of one of his supporters.
Gus allowed her gaze to wander in the direction of Fouché’s second-in-command. She glimpsed Vaillancourt in conversation with a woman, but she did not catch his eye, lest he consider it an invitation to join her. He had done so far too often since Amber had disappeared. If he sought to pump Gus to discover Amber’s location, he would lose. And if he sought to replace Amber with Gus in his affections, he would also lose at that too.
Oh, true, Deputy Rene Vaillancourt was a handsome man, tall and lean, superbly attired in the finest fabrics and colors that brought his sun-kissed Provençale complexion to best light. Dark of eye and enchanting of manner, he’d been said to seduce many women with his sapphire eyes and silken tone. Word was he was an attentive lover, leaving no inch of a lady’s skin untouched, no desire unquenched. Gus had this on the authority of one of her friends who had succumbed to the man’s persuasions. Her friend was now in the country near Compiègne recovering from his refusal to marry her—and from her visit to the local midwife, who rid her of her pregnancy.
Such disregard for a woman riled Gus. To prohibit similar disrespect of her own reputation, she guarded her words—and her body. Especially since Vaillancourt had increased his attentions on her, she would continue to be cautious.
Except today. With the Englishman. She had failed. Her instincts had leaned toward him, sparked by the magnetic lure of his person. In physique, he was huge. In demeanor, he was serene. In attitude, he belied the first impression she had of him as a terrorist. That he had even taken time that day on the Malmaison road to subdue her with kisses spoke of his expedient approach to life. And his rogue’s magic ways. Both were the thrust of his appeal to her now.
He was quick to think, impelled to act to attain his goal. Was it any wonder, then, that to achieve her own goal, she had sought the aura of his words and the shelter of his regard? The few minutes with him had been comforting.
And yet so naïve. She was foolish to want anything from him.
She bit her lower lip.
