Page 44 of Lord Ramsey's Red-Headed Ruin
“He delays delivery of necessary supplies?”
“Yes, it is all a ruse, Ram said. “Bonaparte tells only those who need to know well in advance, like the engineers and the artillery, what he requires. Aides-de-camp are used as couriers of information from certain cities, and they never know the entire plan of supply. Nor do they know the plan of attack.”
“They don’t have to,” she concluded. She sank in misery to sit on the bed.
“No. They report only what they see. That young aide can ride back to Paris tomorrow morning and inform his generalthat two cannon recently came to Verdun, plus muskets.” Ram paused and frowned. “Tell me about the men in regular clothes.”
“I have seen them with Vaillancourt. I do not know their names. Somehow they must know the aide-de-camp from Paris.” She put a hand to her throat, terrified. “I don’t know if they remember me, but I remember them. Oh, Ram. They might be looking for me.”
Ram sank to the edge of the bed and reached to embrace her. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”
She felt the prick of fear. But she knew what they must do. “Looking for me is not so important as the knowledge that Bonaparte increases the number of armaments and puts them in the border forts.”
“It is important, but not as important as your life.”
“I cannot look away and ignore it!” She looked up into his brooding eyes. She did not like what she had to say, but do it she must. “We must return to Paris.”
“No.”
*
“He prepares forwar, Ram.”
“Yes. Against Austria. Which means Bonaparte’s attempt to pry German princes from their bond to the Austrian empire will have teeth. He gives them guns to protect themselves.”
“And to fight for him.” She raised his hand and put it to her cheek. Tears gathered in her lovely eyes. “Godfrey DuClare, listen to me—I will not be the cause of your failure to perform your duty.”
He kissed her hand and rose. This time it was he who paced the floor. “I had thought I must send someone to present the news to Ashley. But I know no one I can trust. We are too deep into France, far from Paris. I know Ashley has more men andwomen arriving to help us gather intelligence, but I know not who they are. Or if any are here in Verdun.”
“Darling Ram, I have taken you far from the center of your network.”
He returned to stand before her and ran his hands up into the wealth of her curls. Silken red waves tangled in his fingers. Her hair had grown from the shorter crop she had when he found her in Reims to frame her face around her ears and throat. “You are my work. You! And now, yes, you and I will take a short trip to Paris to inform Ashley. But we will do it carefully.”
She hugged him, her cheek to his firm stomach. She was proud of him. So proud. He was her stalwart protector, her finest lover, her everything. This man she would not lose. “Paris is a big city, my darling. I know it well. I will do all I can to help you do what you should.”
“You must agree that you will stay hidden. Not go anywhere.”
“Ram, please. Do not stay my hand. You have done so much for me. I want to help.”
“You will help me by staying hidden.” He brushed his thumbs over the rise of her plump cheeks. “You are too precious to me to ever lose you. You are my finest work, darling woman.”
She kissed his fingers. “What if I promise to be careful? Hmm? Stay out of the streets and disguise myself when we must go out?”
He snorted. “You’d need to cut your off your hair. Wear clothes that disguise all this beauty.” He waved a hand down her torso. “In other words, no.”
“Ram, please. Ashley needs to know this information.”
He damned his lack of choices. This news was too important to send in any letter. But he must let Ashley know, without question. If he failed to report this then Parliament would howl with outrage. The army, the navy, had to know what Bonaparte planned. The Treaty of Amiens had been a plan of little valueto Britain. Clearly, the Little Corporal from Corsica valued the treaty even less than paper it was written on.
“Ram, listen to me. Any help you need, I will provide.”
“What I need you to provide, my sweet, is your kiss.” He cupped her face and bent to take her mouth. Amber had convinced him. “I will tell Madame Mercier you are ill. We will remain here and plan well our trip by diversion, lest anyone try to follow. But I will go out into town to assess if the four we saw tonight have gone. Only then will we leave.”
Chapter Twelve
“You did well!”Amber whirled around in the parlor of the house Ram had rented on the left bank of the Seine. The five-story townhouse was small, built at the turn of the previous century, and had sparse but tasteful furnishings. “Did you ask the man you rented from anything about his family?”
Ram stood by the window overlooking the rue du Four. The rich, heavy damask drapes were pulled back. The curtains beneath, trimmed in delicate ivory French Chantilly lace, obscured a clear view of the street. Ram had told Amber he would not open them completely. It was best to keep the view to the inside obstructed.
