Page 48 of Lord Ramsey's Red-Headed Ruin
“He is the very devil, Amber. Take care.”
“And you as well, Luc.”
She and Ram hurried to their little house.
*
“That was close,”Ram said with distaste when they were safely at home in their kitchen.
Amber removed items from her basket and only shook her head. She was the very picture of a frightened woman, pale and solemn.
Ram was bursting with anger that Amber had been recognized, and outraged that the four of them had stood in the streets like deer ready for the hunter’s shot. If that man and his sister went to anyone with this story of Madame St. Antoine’sappearance in a market on the left bank, word would spread. It always did. “Do you trust those two not to say anything?”
Amber plunked herself down in the old kitchen chair. “I do.”
Ram paced the floor. “How? Why?”
“One of them participated in our network.”
“Which?”
“Luc.”
Ram lost his breath. “You report to him? Or he to you?”
“No. No. Not him. Another.”
Ram sank to the opposite chair. “But I thought you said no one knows anyone else but the person who reports downward or upward?”
“I did. That is true. But I once saw him quite by accident with the person who reports to me.”
“And there is no other reason for Bechard to speak to this person?”
She winced. “One other reason.”
Ram wiped a hand across his mouth. “Should I know this reason?”
“I prefer not to tell you, Ram. Not because I don’t wish to, but… I have learned the less anyone knows, the less they can give under torture.”
He trained his eyes on her. “I don’t intend to be a guest of the inimitable Rene Vaillancourt.”
“We never know, Ram. I always fear anything.” She flung out a hand. “Here in France, things are so different. Life is cheap. A man who wants power will gladly lie, cheat, steal, or kill to get what he wants. It will benefit you nothing, my darling, to know this.”
“I see.” He had good reason to worry over this. But it would do him no good. Worry clouded one’s judgment. “Very well. I take you at your word.”
Ram wished he had another man under his employ to go and follow the Bechards. Amber might trust her friends, but he had no reason to.
*
But as Amberbegan to dress the fish they had purchased for dinner, she worked over in her mind the full import of what Luc had shared with her.
Her network was broken. She had no one reporting to her. She’d come to terms with those two facts long ago. But it was serendipity that Ram had chosen Saint-Germain-des-Prés to take a house. She was so close, so very close to the spot where she’d met her control agent. She could walk to the place where she had always met him. If her agent came to check on her occasionally, that person would be thrilled to find she was still alive. He could repair Amber’s chain. He would be happy to do it. He’d get her another report. Gus was gone, her chain broken by her own flight from the city, pretending to be in love with Kane Whittington, Lord Ashley, and seeking her!
Amber’s superior had means. And Amber had motive. She would not see her friends or associates die at Vaillancourt’s hand for working with her to save the republic of France. She would not.
But then, there was this other man in her life now. This dashing, stalwart, heavenly creature who made love to her like there was no other woman in the world. This man, this defender of her life, this force of nature, this bulwark, this ram who would not see her hurt. Who stood by her though life and threat of death.Godfrey DuClare, my Ramsey, who would rather die than allow me to do this.
Amber glanced up at the man who had saved her. The man she loved. Yes, loved. The one who would never let her seek out her superior for fear Vaillancourt might appear there instead.
