Page 67 of Lord Appleby's Gorgeous Imposter
“S’il vous plaît, monsieur,” she addressed Tate’s man, “announce me to your master.”
“Mademoiselle de Massé.” The man bowed. But his face was white, his manner stark with fright. “Monsieur le Comte is not here.”
“No? Do you have any idea when he will return?”
The majordom’s eyes went wide. “Soon, soon.”
One of the footmen murmured something about the earl having learned who followed her around town.
Viv took heart. “He has discovered who is it who follows me?” she asked the majordom and the footman. “That’s wonderful.”
“Oui, mademoiselle. He said he will return as soon as possible. We here are to continue to pack up the house.”
“I see.” She bit her lower lip. “I will return to my own house, then. Please tell him I called upon him.”
“Oui, mademoiselle. I am certain he will be with you as soon as he can.”
But as she stepped outside, she stopped to note the scuffle of the two in the street. The gendarme had wrestled the other man to the cobbles. The fellow howled at the blows the gendarme delivered.
She turned back to the Tate’s men. “What goes on here?”
The majordom looked like death had come for him. “That poor fellow is Mr. Winslow Aldrich, a neighbor who rented a house a few doors north. He is British, mademoiselle. And dozens of gendarmes have been in this street all morning, arresting any British who remain.”
She caught her breath. “Enemies,” she whispered.
“Hurry home, mademoiselle. Word is they march those men to prison.”
“Carmes?” she asked.
“Carmes. La Force. Verdun. Who knows?”
She swallowed her fears for Tate. He must not be taken. He was her hope and her love. “I shall await your master at my house. Please tell him to come as soon as possible.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Mademoiselle.” Viv’s majordom,Monsieur Franck, appeared in her sitting room. He was so pale, he looked bloodless.
“What’s wrong?” She looked up from her escritoire, hating the interruption. She hurried her letter to Vaillancourt inviting him to call upon her this afternoon. She would see him before she departed Paris. If he did not come to her, she would appear on his doorstep. Seeing that man was the last thing she would do in Paris. Her house was in order. She had even told her kitchen staff to make sandwiches, pack a bag of apples, and fill large flasks of whiskey. She and Tate would need them if they had to run for the coast without any delay.
“Two gendarmes demand you receive them. They come from Monsieur Vaillancourt.”
She put down her pen. With a command to her heart to slow its drum beat, she rose. She was an actress today as she had never been before. Her courage was a slim hook on which to hang her future. But she would persevere. “Show them up to the grand salon.” She took a step forward. “Are there more than two? Do others block the back door?”
“No. Only the two are here.”
“Very well. You know what to do, all of you. Continue. Allow anyone who wishes to leave the house now to go.”
Vaillancourt is questioning me. Marking me in the eyes of the public by sending his coach and his men.
“Mademoiselle, before you go. You must see these.” He held out much wrinkled sheets of the day’s gossip papers.
“Why? What?” She took them and skimmed.Mon Dieu! Vaillancourt is a laughingstock?
Astonished, she could not move.
Lord Ramsey had removed from René Vaillancourt’s house Madame St. Antoine. This occurred last night or the night before. The papers had no date. But this they did proclaim: the English viscount had done so in the presence of many notable officials of the government. Talleyrand, for one, though not present at the scene, was not amused. Vaillancourt’s superior, Joseph Fouché, upon hearing of the event, was furious at such treatment of a respected lady. Madame had been ill, so very indisposed, that Lord Ramsey had to carry her down the main stairs to his waiting carriage. To make matters worse, the gossip rags proclaimed with rage, the lady accused the deputy chief of police of poisoning her.
Viv stood in a quandary. What did this mean for her? Did this mean Vaillancourt would deal with her easily? Quickly? Or harshly? Would Viv’s fate be vengeance for Vaillancourt’s recent disgrace?
