Page 52 of Lord Appleby's Gorgeous Imposter
“I am grateful for their service to us, and I wanted to give all of you a token of my appreciation.”
The owl blinked at Viv, greed giving way to gratitude. “Merci beaucoup, mademoiselle. Not many care for those who washed and fed them.”
Now there was a spark of melting regard of which Viv might take advantage.
“Did you not have a beau?” Viv said with concern. “Someone you favored?”
“I did. Smart pig, he was. Is still.”
“Did you not plan to marry?”
“Marry?” Jocelyn scoffed. “The likes of him marrying a maid?”
“It happens. Especially after the revolution. All classes marry now whomever they—”
“Not him. Too high and mighty, he was.”
“Really? Who was he?”
“Then he was police. Still is, but grander, you know?”
So not asans-culottefor the commune or the Bonnet-Rouge Section. “In the local police?”
“Oui.Handsome devil.”
Viv’s heartbeat picked up. “And now? He still lives?”
“Ah,oui, he does.Quel enculé!” Jocelyn muttered.
Viv knew the obscene insult and put a sneer into her next words. “Was he really?”
“An asshole who rose up fast after I”—Jocelyn jabbed herself in the chest—“I helped him!”
I always suspected you were doing more than kissing him.“He was not appreciative of your help.” Viv shook her head as if to commiserate.
“They do not prize a woman,” Jocelyn said with a sour glance at Tate. “Like this one, do you?” she prodded him.
He only stared back at her.
The woman sniffed back her irritation that he did not respond. “Men take women. Then throw them away.”
“What happened to your man?”
“Him? Oh, crafty, he was. He had a friend who was the concierge of Carmes.”
“Carmes?” Tate murmured, as if reflecting on some fact he’d heard.
“Oui, one of the gaols,” Jocelyn said. “My man and this warden ran the prison like abardello. Bribed women, raped them. Two devils.”
The name of the prison struck a bell in Viv. Charmaine had once talked of the Paris prison near rue du Four where she thought Diane might have been sent. Why Charmaine would know about such a place had always perplexed her. “Carmes is a prison?”
“Worst kind. Even Madame Bonaparte spread her legs in there to survive.”
Viv wanted to be sick once more. She had to know the name of this man! “And he used that to become a rich man, did he?”
“Used it to become Fouché’s man.”
Fouché.“The Minister of Police? He works for that man?”
