and instructions as to what was supposed to happen next.
And that didn’t include the greatest lie of all.
The famine had been devised.
While, yes, weather had affected a good number of crops throughout the land, the main allocation of stocked grain had been more than sufficient to feed most of France. The staple of grain, which was usually held by the state itself, had gone missing. Various assignats in ledgers found by royal spies were able to determine that the monopoly of grain had been almost entirely bought up by the Duc d’Orleans who allocated most of it out of the country.
Conveniently…the man was next in line to be king.
It was a viciously brilliant way of assuming power. Creating a famine manipulated the greatest basic need humanity was willing to fight and die for: food.
After Gérard figured out how to talk to his godfather, he planned on getting the documents into Austria’s hands before they were destroyed. For he had a feeling this new grab for power was going to try to erase the truth from the world. An entire generation was going to believe the next set of men in power were going to represent them.
He called horse shite on that.
In the meantime, the less his darling actress knew, the better off she would be. “If I were to tell you what was in this satchel, too many people would want you dead. Which is why you will never ask me about it again. It does not exist. Do you understand?”
Lowering her chin, she stared. “Which means you are in possession of something the Republic will destroy you for.”
He smirked drunkenly, wagging a knowing finger. “Exactly. But I intend to destroy them all first. They will not write history. I will.”
Her brows flickered and her features now softened with concern. “Do not put yourself in anymore danger than you already are. Wealthy though you may be, you are only one man.”
That concern, so soft and genuine, made his chest unexpectedly tighten. He had almost forgotten what it was like to have someone care. He searched her face. “Do you really care? Or are you pretending to care because I am paying for it?”
She said nothing.
He tapped his chest, almost missing it. “Lie here.”
She hesitated.
“Thérèse, cease being angry about something that cannot very well be changed. Now come here.” Grabbing her waist hard, he yanked her down onto him and with a hand, set her head on his chest.
She stiffened.
He smoothed her hair in assurance, reveling in its silken and rain-softened strands that had yet to dry. “What will be, will be. I will care for you and the babe. I swear it.”
Those shoulders and body relaxed. A soft breath escaped her. She tucked herself better against him, her hand circling his waist. “In the morning, when you are yourself again, we will talk,” she whispered.
Swallowing hard, he stared up at the blur of stars that peered through the branches of the darkness and wondered if it was at all possible to hold onto her despite his vices.
If anything, he knew his money would make her stay. Either way, she had to. He had entrusted her with too much. Enough to destroy him.
She was bound to him whether she liked it or not.
The sound of a determined boot thudding hard into the ground made her snap open her eyes. Thérèse paused, realizing the dark wool of Gérard’s blanket had been folded, tucked and wrapped around her. Her throat tightened, knowing he had done it.
She had agreed to be his own personal actress. And now? This son of a duke was intent on taking far, far more than her body. If she let him, he was going to reach past her breasts and into her chest and rip out her beating heart with one hand and merrily drink his brandy with the other.
Whilst she hadn’t given into his original game of ‘come-hither-and-play-spy-with-me-while- we-make-love’ thinking she would end up finding a husband or love, she was not settling for getting pregnant by a drunk, either. The inn-keeper’s wife had dealt with a husband
And that didn’t include the greatest lie of all.
The famine had been devised.
While, yes, weather had affected a good number of crops throughout the land, the main allocation of stocked grain had been more than sufficient to feed most of France. The staple of grain, which was usually held by the state itself, had gone missing. Various assignats in ledgers found by royal spies were able to determine that the monopoly of grain had been almost entirely bought up by the Duc d’Orleans who allocated most of it out of the country.
Conveniently…the man was next in line to be king.
It was a viciously brilliant way of assuming power. Creating a famine manipulated the greatest basic need humanity was willing to fight and die for: food.
After Gérard figured out how to talk to his godfather, he planned on getting the documents into Austria’s hands before they were destroyed. For he had a feeling this new grab for power was going to try to erase the truth from the world. An entire generation was going to believe the next set of men in power were going to represent them.
He called horse shite on that.
In the meantime, the less his darling actress knew, the better off she would be. “If I were to tell you what was in this satchel, too many people would want you dead. Which is why you will never ask me about it again. It does not exist. Do you understand?”
Lowering her chin, she stared. “Which means you are in possession of something the Republic will destroy you for.”
He smirked drunkenly, wagging a knowing finger. “Exactly. But I intend to destroy them all first. They will not write history. I will.”
Her brows flickered and her features now softened with concern. “Do not put yourself in anymore danger than you already are. Wealthy though you may be, you are only one man.”
That concern, so soft and genuine, made his chest unexpectedly tighten. He had almost forgotten what it was like to have someone care. He searched her face. “Do you really care? Or are you pretending to care because I am paying for it?”
She said nothing.
He tapped his chest, almost missing it. “Lie here.”
She hesitated.
“Thérèse, cease being angry about something that cannot very well be changed. Now come here.” Grabbing her waist hard, he yanked her down onto him and with a hand, set her head on his chest.
She stiffened.
He smoothed her hair in assurance, reveling in its silken and rain-softened strands that had yet to dry. “What will be, will be. I will care for you and the babe. I swear it.”
Those shoulders and body relaxed. A soft breath escaped her. She tucked herself better against him, her hand circling his waist. “In the morning, when you are yourself again, we will talk,” she whispered.
Swallowing hard, he stared up at the blur of stars that peered through the branches of the darkness and wondered if it was at all possible to hold onto her despite his vices.
If anything, he knew his money would make her stay. Either way, she had to. He had entrusted her with too much. Enough to destroy him.
She was bound to him whether she liked it or not.
The sound of a determined boot thudding hard into the ground made her snap open her eyes. Thérèse paused, realizing the dark wool of Gérard’s blanket had been folded, tucked and wrapped around her. Her throat tightened, knowing he had done it.
She had agreed to be his own personal actress. And now? This son of a duke was intent on taking far, far more than her body. If she let him, he was going to reach past her breasts and into her chest and rip out her beating heart with one hand and merrily drink his brandy with the other.
Whilst she hadn’t given into his original game of ‘come-hither-and-play-spy-with-me-while- we-make-love’ thinking she would end up finding a husband or love, she was not settling for getting pregnant by a drunk, either. The inn-keeper’s wife had dealt with a husband
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