Page 52 of Lord Ramsey's Red-Headed Ruin
“God help me, no.”I’d rather be safely away in London with Amber beside me. Yet she substitutes my duty for her own, even as it helps assuage her guilt that she cannot do hers.“But Amber will not listen to reason. She is beside herself that Bonaparte makes way for himself to destroy the consulate. Dirk Fournier thinks the same.”
Kane was shocked. “You’ve seen Dirk?”
“No. Not since he and I parted weeks ago.” Ram paused. In the hallway, he thought he saw a shadow move. Kane employed trustworthy staff, but one could never be totally sure of loyalties. If someone were there listening, Ram would not chance saying anything more. He was glad he had committed the details of military supplies to paper. “Rumors there are that Bonaparte wants the territory along the border with German Baden. He offers land and money to the margrave. That man wants to be a grand duke.”
“Dirk’s grandmother’s territory.”
“Exactly. When I left Dirk in late May, he was in a hurry to get to Karlsruhe. Unless you have heard from him, I assume he is still there.”
“I have no communication from him. So he must be still in Karlsruhe.”
They embraced, and as they did, Ram stuck his small paper in Kane’s hand. It detailed the new production number of muskets in Charleville and the numbers of new weapons sent to Sedan and Verdun. As per their usual method of communication of detailed information, Ram knew Kane would read the note, then burn it.
Kane tried to smile and failed. “Despite the pressure of protecting an independent woman, you look happy, Ram.”
Ram could only chuckle at the truth of that. “Let me say the same for you.”
“A bientot, Ram.”
“A bientot, my friend.”
Chapter Fourteen
The next morning,Ram rose early from their bed. Careful not to disturb Amber, he wrapped his banyan around him and headed for the small library downstairs.
Sleep had eluded him—and he knew why. Though he and Amber had begun the night with kisses that satisfied and fulfilled, afterward Ram had Luc Bechard on his mind. Or rather, what Luc had told Amber in the streets danced in his memory.
Ram had seen her become distracted at that news. Only during the hours when they lay together in their bed did she not think of the other man and his words. Ram feared she took Bechard’s information as evidence she must return to Society. He could not let her do that. Vaillancourt was devious, and his ploy to compel her into Society again was so obvious—and terrifying. The man would imprison her and kill her.
In the cozy, wood-paneled library, Ram strode to the bellpull and summoned Gaspard, the man-of-all-work, who lived here. The fellow acted asmajordomand all else. The man who rented the house to Ram had assured him of the fellow’s utmost discretion. “After all, we have had refugees of all kinds renting this house for more than a decade,” he’d said. “Gaspard will not betray you in any way. He can, in fact, aid you in almost any endeavor.”
Gaspard appeared quickly, pulling his own robe around him. He still wore the stocking cap that he’d slept in. His wiry gray hair stood out at odd angles. A funny-looking fellow with a long nose and bulging eyes, Gaspard was quick to laugh, quick to nod, quick to suggest a better alternative. “Bonjour, Monsieur Algernon.” Gaspard had accepted without question the name Ram gave him. Ram and Amber were to themajordomand anyone who asked, including the man from whom Ram rented the house, known asMonsieur et Madame Algernon. “You wish breakfast?”
Ram requested a pot of coffee and an omelet. “I will take it here. Ah, Gaspard. One moment,s’il vous plait.Do you know of anyone who knows their way through the tunnels of Paris?”
“Oui, monsieur. Would you wish to meet her here?”
A woman! Ram snorted. “No, in theplace.By the clock, shall we say? At ten?”
“This morning, monsieur?”
“Oui. Have her wear a green scarf around her neck.”
Gaspard bowed. “It will be done, monsieur.”
Newly arrived in Paris, the couple known as Monsieur and Madame Algernon were from Arles and visiting Paris for the first time. Themascaradeworked for him and Amber. No one would call upon them. No one would be invited to their rented house. They were safe from discovery. Save for Luc and Inès Bechard, who had recognized Amber at once in the street.
That incident flooded Ram’s mind with the fear they’d be discovered by someone else. Anyone else who came to the left bank for…what? To see a friend. To buy a pamphlet or book from one of the many publishing houses. The chances were few, but Ram felt the odds had just worked against him with the appearance of the Bechards.
There was no hope for it. He was left with the conviction that he and Amber had to leave Paris soon. He would beginthe intricate preparations—choose a convoluted route, multiple carriages sent out at the same time as couples to act as decoys. A day or two and they could be gone from Paris.
If Amber would go.
He knew how her mind worked. What Luc had told her ate at her. He heard it in her voice, saw it in her stance. Her sense of responsibility was strong. He and she would be back to the old argument in which he pressed Amber to go to England—and she refused to leave France.
Yet now, with Luc Bechard’s words of warning, it was clear that Vaillancourt would not give up. He wanted Amber. Lie, cheat, kill, the man cared not. He would have her.
*
