Page 56 of Lord Ramsey's Red-Headed Ruin
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The next morning,Ram left Amber after breakfast to do a few things to prepare for their journey out of Paris. First, he’d go to his own rented house on the right bank, then he’d seek out the woman Gaspard had sent to help him the other day. Today, he did not need to learn from her about Paris tunnels. This morning, he needed her to help him with another detail of his flight from Paris. He needed a coach.
As he caught a fiacre for the ride across the Seine, he sketched out in his mind an escape plan. He was taking Amberto Amboise, to the Loire River. If she refused to go to London, that was fine—he would suggest the south. Provence. Arles. Nice. A ship in the Mediterranean to any place she wished to go. Constantinople. Jaffa. Anywhere in the world out of reach of the deputy chief of police.
Minutes later, Ram left his own house in rue d’Orleans, smiling. He had enough money, thanks to Ashley, who had sent thousands to hismajordom. He’d need every bit of it for their journey.
Back on the left bank near their rented house, Ram ordered a coffee and bread at a bustling café. He sat waiting for Gaspard’s friend. Down the street came three urchins selling today’s gossip rags. He dug coins from his pocket and bought one of each. Gaspard bought a copy of all he could get each morning. Amber and Ram read them to each other for amusement. She knew the people whose names appeared in the sheets and would tell Ram about them, their characteristics and their escapades. He had not read this morning’s so-called news. He’d had better things to do than waste time on frivolities.
Drinking his coffee, he enjoyed the momentary peace. He raised his face to the July sun and breathed in.
He raised his cup once more, and his gaze fell upon the stack of printed sheets. His cup midair, he paused…and reread the first sheet.
Then the next.
And the third.
Heart pounding, he stood, paid, and grabbed the sheets in one hand. He told himself not to run home, forcing himself to walk at a normal pace.
However, in Bonaparte’s France, under Fouché and Vaillancourt, nothing was normal.
Nothing.
His only hope was that he might persuade the woman he loved to accept the news he gave her—and finally,finally, leave France for England.
Chapter Fifteen
From the momentAmber saw Ram enter their salon, she knew there was trouble. Somewhere. Somehow. Whatever it was, it was horrid.
She gulped as he came to a halt, closed the salon doors, and fixed his gaze on her. In his pale, handsome eyes, she saw fear, sorrow, and, to her despair, death. He came forward. In his hand he held short, ragged sheets, the kind publishers used to print their gossip. He led her to the settee.
Biting her lip, she looked at him and sought what he could not give today. What no one could give. Peace would be destroyed by whatever was in those rags…
He pressed into her hand the sheets.
She read one with large print.Attempted abduction of niece of comtesse and British envoy!
No. Not Gus.She read another one. Skimmed another. But each one repeated the same story. Different words, but all the same meaning.
Last night after a social gathering, Monsieur le Comte Ashley and Madame la Comtesse Ashley were accosted by bullies in the streets. Dragged from their own carriage, the attackers attempted to separate the comte from his wife and carry heraway.
Rumors have it on good authority the criminals were hired by a certain official in the government who wished to bring misery to the comte, who is a British envoy living in Paris since the signing of the Treaty ofAmiens.
Fortunately, Monsieur le Comte employs his own guards, and it was they who were able to free the envoy and hislady.
Good Paris Citizens are eager to learn precisely who is responsible for this outrage and ask who will be punished for such a black mark on this city and itscitizens!
Amber sat, paralyzed. One thought rang through her head. Vaillancourt had done this to show her how powerful he could be. How perverse.
“Gus and Ashley,” she finally managed to say, “are safe. It says so. Are they?”
Ram cupped her chin and directed her to focus on him. “Yes, it says so in one of the sheets. Whit has guards he hired.”
“Like you do,” she murmured.
Ram nodded.
“But they could not stop the abductors.”
