“What is this?” Juliette gazed in bewilderment at the pile of packages Robert carried into Catherine’s chamber three hours later.
“Clothing. Monsieur Philippe has returned and is in the gold salon with Monsieur Etchelet.”
“Philippe!” Catherine’s gaze flew to Juliette. “You didn’t tell me Philippe was here.”
“I was going to tell you later.”
“Monsieur Philippe said he took the liberty of purchasing a few items of apparel for you and Mademoiselle Catherine.” Robert smiled at Catherine as he set the packages on the padded bench by the window. “Evidently he didn’t approve of my Marie’s gown.”
“But where did he get them? He’s been gone only a few hours.” Juliette opened a package to reveal a silk gown in a vibrant shade of cinnamon. Intricate gold embroidery bordered a low neck and delicate lace frothed at the hems of three-quarter-length sleeves. The gown was as fine as any she had seen at Versailles, and she knew very well how many hours of work had gone into the embroidery. Rose Bertin, the queen’s favorite dressmaker, would have demanded many fortnights to produce such a gown. “This must have been meant for another client. I’d like to know how he managed to find a dressmaker obliging enough to offend another customer to sell him such a gown.”
“Oh, the ladies have always been most obliging for Monsieur Philippe. Shall I tell the gentlemen you’ll join them as soon as you’ve changed?”
“No.” Juliette turned and moved toward the door. “I’m decently covered. Your wife’s gown will do very well for me.”
Robert nodded. “I thought as much. I informed Monsieur Andreas you’d be down immediately.”
Juliette stopped and looked suspiciously at him over her shoulder. It could be dangerous to have a servant so perceptive. “How clever of you.”
Robert smiled gently. “You don’t have to be afraid of me, Mademoiselle Juliette. I would never tell anyone you were from the abbey.”
Juliette’s gaze narrowed on his face. “And what do you know of what happened at the abbey?”
“Only what I hear in the market.”
“And what is that?”
“I think you know. All of Paris is talking of the massacres. Don’t worry, I would never say anything to hurt Mademoiselle Catherine. Nor would I believe such slander against her or the nuns. I have no liking for these pompous men of the assembly who command me to say tu instead of vous and call myself Citizen when I’ve always found Monsieur good enough in my sixty years.”
Juliette felt a surge of warmth. “Thank you, Robert. It’s not easy to trust anyone.” She hesitated and then turned to Catherine. “Philippe wishes to see you.”
“No!” Catherine sat bolt upright on the bed, her cheeks flaming, her eyes brimming with tears. “Send him away.”
“Catherine, I admit he’s been—”
“I won’t see him. I don’t ever want to see him again. Don’t bring Philippe here, Juliette. Don’t make me—”
“I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t wish to do.” Juliette cast her an anxious glance as she started for the door. “I’ll be back soon.”
“Don’t bring him back with you. Don’t let him see me. He’ll—” Catherine broke off, the tears running down her cheeks. “Sweet heaven, I’m sorry. I know you hate for me to blubber like a baby, but I can’t seem to stop. Forgive me for being such a burden to you.”
“You’re not a burden and, if you feel like blubbering, do it. You have reason.”
Catherine’s eyes sparkled like sapphires in the rain as she whispered, “Please, don’t make me face him, Juliette.”
“I won’t bring him here.” Juliette swallowed to ease the tightness in her throat before turning to Robert. “Fetch your wife to stay with Mademoiselle Catherine in my stead.”
He nodded. “My Marie was always fond of Mademoiselle Catherine. She’ll take good care of la petite.”
“Good.” Juliette was already halfway down the corridor. “I want her fed, bathed, and calmed by the time I return.”
“We’ll endeavor to accomplish at least the first two tasks, Mademoiselle.” The faintest shade of dry humor colored Robert’s tone.
No fear, no scurrying to obey. The old man might have more courage than had first been evident, Juliette thought with respect. Courage could be a problem if not accompanied by loyalty, but still she liked dealing with it more than cowardice. She grinned at Robert over her shoulder. “And I’ll take care of all else.”
She straightened her shoulders as she marched down the stairs to face the three men in the salon.
But only François Etchelet and Philippe Andreas were in the Gold Salon, standing in uneasy silence, looking as alien to each other as panther and peacock.
The image intrigued Juliette, and she found herself pausing in the arched doorway before making her presence known. Philippe, radiantly golden and brilliant as a sunset in his crimson silk coat, pearl-gray trousers, and polished black boots. Etchelet dressed in black, anonymous serge, wearing his fierceness like the sleek coat of a great cat so that his clothing appeared totally unimportant. Interesting.
She must have made some sound, for François suddenly whirled. “I should inform you, Mademoiselle, I dislike being sent for as if I were a stable boy bound to do your bidding.” His eyes glittered in the candlelight as he took a step forward. Panther’s eyes, Juliette thought, all black iris and shimmering menace. “If I decide to help you, it won’t be because you demand it.”
“We needed to speak to you,” Juliette said. “And it wasn’t I who sent Philippe after you. It was Jean Ma—”
“Ah, Monsieur Etchelet.” Jean Marc suddenly materialized beside Juliette and strolled leisurely toward François. “How kind of you to come. I’m Jean Marc Andreas and I wished to give you my heartfelt thanks for your services to my cousin and Mademoiselle de Clement.”
“Monsieur Andreas.” Etchelet bowed, his gaze wary. “The circumstances were such that I could do nothing else.”
“And I am sure he would have made every effort to avoid his involvement,” Juliette said sweetly, “I suppose we should be grateful he saw fit not to send us back to his friend, the butcher.”
“I’m sure Mademoiselle de Clement means no offense.” Philippe stepped forward protectively. “She’s overcome by the horrors she’s undergone.”
Juliette bristled. “Overcome? I’m not overcome. I’m tired and angry, but I’m not about to swoon because this man scowls at me.”
François suddenly smiled. “No, I think it would take considerably more to make you swoon.”
“So do I,” Jean Marc said dryly. “Don’t you think it’s time to put differences aside and concentrate on the task at hand? Your words do not help Catherine, Juliette.”
François turned abruptly away, walked over to the window, and stood looking out into the street.
“Philippe says it’s very difficult getting through the checkpoints without proper papers,” Jean Marc said to François’s back. “Can you get them for us?”
“No.”
“Can Danton get them for us?”
“Probably. But he won’t risk it. Not now.”
“Why not?” Juliette asked.
“It’s too dangerous. In addition to the regular guard, Dupree has at least one man of his own at every gate and there’s no telling when or where he will appear to make checks personally. Georges Jacques mustn’t be connected with you or he’ll lose what he’s gained.”
“And what is that?” Jean Marc asked.
“The Girondins. If the assembly loses the Girondins, the extremist radicals like Marat and Robespierre will gain power.”
“I don’t care about these Girondins,” Juliette said. “I want Catherine out of Paris. What do we do?”
“Wait.”
It was easy for him to say, Juliette thought in frustration. “I don’t want to wait.”
François whirled to face her. “Then you shouldn’t have killed one of the Marseilles.”
She st
iffened. “They found him?”
“Oh, yes, they found him. They’ve been searching the countryside for his murderess. Georges Jacques says Dupree was highly displeased. He likes everything neat and tidy.”
“I doubt if those words would apply to a massacre.” Juliette nibbled at her lower lip. “Does he know who killed the pig?”
“He doesn’t know your true identity, but he does suspect ‘Citizeness Justice.’ ”
“No one else?”
François shook his head.
Then Dupree must not have found the locket, she thought with relief. “The sword. Dupree knows I took his sword.” A frown knitted her brow. “But he can’t be sure Catherine was at the tomb. He saw her for only an instant in the bell tower—unless he remembers she wasn’t in the courtyard at the tribunal.”
“Dupree has an excellent memory for detail. He posted a reward for both of you this morning with full descriptions.”
“Citizeness Justice?” Jean Marc asked.
“Mademoiselle de Clement,” François said. “It’s the only name by which Dupree knows her.”
Jean Marc’s gaze shifted with sudden intentness to Juliette. “Why Citizeness Justice?”
“It’s only a name Dupree found it amusing to call me. But that’s not important.” Juliette frowned. “Then Dupree can’t know we’re in Paris.”
François nodded. “Which is why it’s safe to wait.”
“Wait for what?”
“Georges Jacques is going to arrange to intercede with Marat to have Dupree sent out of the city as soon as possible. He’s the only man who can recognize you.”
“There’s a courtyard of men who can recognize me. You recognized me.”
“The Marseilles were busier at that moment than I.”
Juliette’s stomach clenched as she remembered the tasks that had occupied those men in the courtyard. “Yes, very busy.”
“They’re still busy.” François’s lips set grimly. “I’m sure in a few days the events at the abbey will blur into one red haze.”
Juliette’s gaze flew to his face. “Dear God, more?”
François nodded. “After they left the abbey that morning they marched on La Force. They killed the Princess de Lambelle, stuck her head on a pike, and carried it to the Temple to show it to Marie Antoinette.”
Juliette swallowed bile. Her mother had always hated the gentle princess who had given the queen her love and loyalty since girlhood. Juliette had not understood the woman’s high-strung delicacy but never questioned the princess’s genuine affection for Her Majesty.
“You should not have told her,” Philippe said. “Can’t you see how it’s upset her?”
“The queen?” Juliette asked. “Did they kill the queen?”
“No, the Temple is well guarded. None of the royal family was hurt.”
Relief rushed through Juliette. The queen and Louis Charles were still alive. “How disappointed those butchers must have been.”
François avoided her glance. “Marat won’t permit Dupree to be sent away until he’s satisfied that his job is done. You must not step foot out of the house until there isn’t the least possibility you could encounter him.”
“Is bribery feasible?” Jean Marc asked.
“Not now. Perhaps later.”
“So we’re to stay here until Dupree is sent out of Paris?” Juliette tried to gather her thoughts into some kind of order. “I don’t like it. There are too many residences around the square and we can’t stay here very long in secret. No matter how careful we are, people are bound to realize we’re in the house.”
Jean Marc thought for a moment and then said, “I can tell Robert to put it about that Philippe came from Vasaro to be of assistance to his two sisters who were forced to flee from their homes in the north after the Prussians took Verdun.”
“It’s possible,” François said. “Providing no official inquiry is undertaken regarding them.” He turned to Philippe. “You’ll stay here to lend the story credence?”
Philippe nodded. “Of course. I’ll stay as long as I’m needed.”
“Catherine won’t want you here,” Juliette said. “She does not wish to see you.”
“I’ll stay out of her way.” Philippe’s tone was firm. “But my place is here helping Jean Marc and Catherine to—”
“The story will have to do for the time being,” Jean Marc said. “You’ll let me know if there’s any danger, Etchelet?”
“I assure you neither Georges Jacques nor I wish to have the women apprehended. It would be a distinct embarrassment.” François turned toward the door. “I’ll inform you when Dupree has left Paris.”
“Wait.” Juliette took a step forward. “That’s not enough. Philippe is a stranger in Paris and it may be known that Jean Marc’s ward was at the abbey. It’s you who must lend our presence here credence. You must be well known if you work for Danton. Call on us at least every other day.”
“I have no time for—”
“Call on us as frequently as possible and stay but briefly.” She smiled mockingly. “Do wear one of your tricolored cockades so that everyone can see how loyal to the government the members of this household must be. A fine revolutionary gentleman like yourself should be displaying one anyway.”
He met her gaze. “I don’t have to wear my convictions on my hat.”
“It won’t hurt you to do so for the next few weeks. Don’t worry, we don’t want to see you any more than you do us. Have Marie show you to the garden and spend the time in contemplation.” Her smile faded. “Yes, contemplate why you were at the Abbaye de la Reine.”
He gazed at her silently for a moment. “I may drop in occasionally if I’m in the neighborhood.”
He turned and left the salon.
“Wait.” Juliette suddenly remembered something and followed him into the foyer. To her surprise, she found him standing at the foot of the curving staircase, looking up.
“How is she?” he asked in a low tone.
“Not good. How do you expect her to be? She dreams and wakes up screaming. She won’t eat or—” Juliette drew a deep breath and tried to regain her control. “This man I killed, who was he?”
“A Marseilles. His name was Etienne Malpan.”
“Do you know what he looked like?”
“Yes.”
“Describe him.”
“Dead.”
“Very amusing.”
“I find death lends a certain anonymity of appearance to everyone. Why are you suddenly so curious about his looks?”
“It was dark in the tomb and Catherine couldn’t see who attacked her. She said they had no faces and for some reason it bothers her.”
“So you’re trying to put faces to them for her?” He was silent a moment. “Etienne Malpan was fair, about forty, a big, beefy man.”
“I remember he was large. What color were his eyes?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Find out.”
“I’m to go to the graveyard and, providing they haven’t buried him yet, have them pry open his lids?”
“She needs a face, a complete face. You don’t impress me as being overly squeamish.”
François shook his head. “Do you never give up?”
“She needs a face.”
François opened the door.
“Will you do it?”
“Stop badgering me.”
The slam of the door echoed in the high-ceilinged hall.
“You should be more cautious. He’s a dangerous man.”
Juliette turned to see a frowning Philippe behind her in the foyer.
“I asked a few questions about Etchelet when I was trying to locate his lodgings. He’s well known among the representatives of the assembly.”
“Well known in what way?”
“He’s nominally Danton’s agent and clerk, but that’s not his primary duty.”
“I’m not surprised. He didn’t impress me as a clerk.”
“He gathers information for
Danton.”
“A spy?”
“He also intimidates. He’s fought five duels in the past two years, all with men Danton found convenient to have out of the way. Needless to say, he was not content merely to inflict token wounds to have honor satisfied.”
That information didn’t surprise her either. “He’ll not challenge me to a duel. Nor do I have any important information he can steal.”
“Two of those duels concerned women. Etchelet presumably seduced the women in order to prod his prey into challenging him so that he would have the choice of weapons.” Philippe shook his head. “None of it was honorably done.”
“That he used the women to get what he wanted?” Juliette could not see Etchelet in the role of seducer. In spite of his physical attractiveness, he radiated a blunt honesty that seemed at odds with the deceit needed for such schemes. “But did you not do the same? How else did you get those gowns Robert brought to my chamber.”
“That was different,” Philippe protested. “I merely explained my need to the ladies in the shop.”
He believed what he was saying, Juliette realized with amazement. Philippe had merely charmed and cajoled and smiled sweetly and the deed was done. “At which shop did you purchase them?”
“Julie Lamartine’s. I remembered Jean Marc uses her to clothe his—” Philippe stopped and then continued lamely. “She’ll begin fitting you both with a complete wardrobe as soon as I provide her with your present measurements.”
He had gone to the shop where Jean Marc sent his mistresses. Juliette felt a sudden jab of pain. No, it couldn’t have been pain. She was tired and confused. All rich men had mistresses, and most courtesans had better taste in fashion than wives. The dressmaker would do very well to outfit Catherine before she left Paris. “I’ll have Catherine’s measurements for you tomorrow.”
Philippe nodded. “And yours.”
“I can make do with one of Marie’s gowns.”
“My sisters would not be ill dressed.”
Juliette’s gaze traveled over his impeccable attire, and she was forced to smile, albeit faintly. “I can see how you would be filled with shame at such ignominy.” She started up the stairs. “Very well, you’ll have my measurements too.”