Page 61 of Lord Ashley's Beautiful Alibi
Now Gus held the mass of colorful ribbons in her left hand, and in her right, she held the bottom of the drawer.
Lying there at the bottom, however, was nothing.
*
She rushed downthe stairs and found Kane enjoying a small repast.
Bonnet had retired.
“We must go,” she told him.
He studied her face. “What did you find?”
She closed the door behind her. “Nothing. Nothing useful. Yes, Amber has been here, but she left me no message. I am…mystified.”
He put down his cup and saucer and glanced to the opposite chair. “Come tell me.”
She wrung her hands and paraded to the window. Outside the world passed by in its daily routine, and inside here, she had no clue how to move forward. “Amber was here. I saw the evidence in her room. To describe how I know is…complicated. Take my word, it is so. But usually if she came here and expected me sometime later, she would leave me a message in a secret place.” She whirled to face him.
But he was right behind her, his arms reaching for her.
She went to him, realizing in her sorrow and frustration that she was shaking—and that he was once more her succor.
He caressed her, the warm cocoon of his embrace a stabilizing influence.
She hugged him nearer, wanting more to fight the storm within her.
He cradled her close and nestled his lips in her curls at her crown. “Tell me why she would leave a message for you if she wished you to follow.”
She pulled back, her gaze locking on his. It was time to share a few useful facts. “I think you know.”
His steady appraisal of her told the tale. “Say it anyway, my darling. Let it be one clear, true thing between us.”
“I work for her.”
He cupped her cheek and lifted her face a little more. His lips blessed hers, sweetly, briefly. “And?”
She swallowed, hard and loud. Tears stung her lids. “I am a carrier of information for her. For her system. I have done this for over a year. She and I have worked together. Since she has been gone, I have only knowledge of how to send information down one path, but not up through her.”
She let her tears fall and fell against his broad chest.
He spoke, his voice gruff with anguish. “Come sit with me.” He scooped her up in his arms, strode to the settee, and sat with her spread across his lap. He dug a handkerchief from his frock coat pocket and dabbed at her cheeks. But he let her sit without discussion so that her tension drained away. “I expect now to see your feisty self.”
She barked with laughter.
“Now, listen to me,” he said as he stroked her shoulder. “You will taste this fine patisserie, a few sandwiches, and tea. Then you and I will take our carriage to the north road, to the St. Antoine vineyards. There we will talk with those you know. Hopefully there will be a few men remaining from years agowhom I remember, and we will see what we can learn about Amber’s travels.”
“You’ve been to the vineyards?”
“Once. I was young. Twenty.”
“Why?”
He inhaled. “As you have given me your truth, now I give you some of mine. I was in France helping a friend of mine escape the Committee of Safety. We came north to Reims.”
She thought on that a moment. “A perilous time. So Monsieur St. Antoine helped you, didn’t he? How?”
“He hid us in his cellars.”
