Page 45 of Lord Ramsey's Red-Headed Ruin
He and Amber had arrived in Paris late yesterday afternoon. Fortunate to find a sign for a rented house on the front door of a townhouse near the Saint-Germain-des-Prés Abbey, Ram had pressed the owner for the name and location of a registry where he could find good, strong men. He needed three, one for the front door, one for the kitchen entrance, and one to follow Ram wherever he went. The three whom he met, he hired immediately.
“This house is now owned by one of the banking family of Jarre.” Ram turned to look at her with a smile. “Before that, it was owned by the Vicomte de Neufchateau for his mistress.”
“How quaint.” She smiled, pretending she was easy in her skin to be back in Paris. But she had heard rumors about the endof the vicomte’s family during the Terror. One young daughter named Diane had been in Carmes when she and Aunt Cecily were there.
“What’s wrong?” Ram asked.
“The vicomte’s family were robbed by their bankers.”
“The Jarre who own this house?”
She clutched her arms and nodded. “So many turned on others during the Terror. Often without provocation.”
“Do you not wish to remain here? If so, we can go.”
“No. No, of course not.” It was irrelevant what had happened here. The city was her home. Everywhere were stories of those who had done evil to others. She was here, no matter that she could not take up the reins of her espionage work to correct old wrongs. She was more than content to help Ram do his duty. “Good that the house comes with a man-of-all-work.”
“Monsieur Jarre’s man assured me our newmajordomis trustworthy. Still, you and I will be discreet around him.”
She went to Ram and put her arms around him. “Always. This visit here is for you. I am so heartened that you will do this. I see in your attitude that you are happy we’ve come.”
He drew her flush to him, his eyes bright with humor. “I wish to please you, madame.”
“Ba! Please yourself, my darling man. Let’s see if we need anything for the larder. Or sheets or covers for the bed.”
“Why don’t you do that and make a list? I’ll go shop for your needs.”
Hands on her hips, she had to try to persuade him to her thinking. “I cannot stay here all the time.”
He gave her a wry look. “You can.”
She pouted and batted her lashes like a coquette. “You cannot keep me caged.”
“Honestly, you should not go out at all, and you know it. You cannot go out during the day.” He cupped her nape and brushed his lips over hers. “Please don’t try me.”
“I won’t. I promise.” But living so very close to the old abbey, the very place where she had met her superior each month for many years, called up her sense of responsibility. Her chances of her control agent going to their meeting places again after so many months were small. But Amber had a spark of hope he might appear. She could then assure the man that she was alive and well. Useless, yes, but alive and well.
“At dusk,” Ram said, and tapped the end of her nose. “We will walk out as the sun sets. Only for a few minutes.”
She gave him a big, wild kiss. “Wonderful. I will wear my trousers.”
He rolled his eyes. “Don’t. You look nothing like any man I’ve ever known.”
“Not even a skinny youth?”
“No. Parts of you are not at all skinny. If you wear trousers, people will stare all the more. But I will buy you a wide-brimmed straw hat. We will try to conceal all of this excellent bone structure.” He tipped his head as he stroked the arch of her cheeks.
*
Minutes later, Ramwent out the kitchen door. His list for groceries in his inside his frock coat pocket, he went first to the nearby café to which their newmajordomGaspard had referred him.
Casting a glance down theruelle, Ram smiled. Pleased that he did not see his hired man assigned to the back door, he began to walk away to his errands. He was even more pleased that he did not detect how his third man followed him.
Yet a sixth sense ruffled his composure. Ram had always been able to tell when someone tracked him. His third guard did a good job and was definitely not following him. Did someone else?
He would take care. So he proceeded, felt safe doing his shopping—and began to wander and crisscross the streets. If anyone attempted to follow him, he would learn before he headed for the market in the cornerplace.
A few streets away from his house, he paused at a printer’s glass window. The man specialized in history books about Paris. Surreptitiously, he looked at reflections in the glass. No one followed him. Then he dropped into a small café for a coffee and pastry—and took his time. Satisfied he saw no one loitering outside waiting for him to appear, he asked forl’additionto pay his bill and emerged into the bright July sun. Outside, he stood a moment and raised his face to the sky. He rejoiced that he and Amber were in Paris, and safely so. It was time for him to buy items they needed at home. Off he went to the market.
