all the aristos, we shall not rest. The Austrian whore must follow her husband to eternity, along with the bastards she has spawned.’
‘When will that be, do you suppose?’
‘Soon.’ He looked closely at Jack. ‘What interest do you have in the widow Capet?’
‘None at all.’ He paused, knowing it was risky to go on, but remembering his promise to his father-in-law, he decided to risk it. ‘My interest is in the
ci-devant
comte de Malincourt,’ he went on, fingering the handle of a wicked-looking knife he had stuck in his belt. ‘I have a score to settle with him.’
‘Him!’ Another of the four broke in, contempt in his voice. ‘He fled with his family to England, in ‘eighty-nine, cowards and traitors all of them. I spit on them.’ And he spat on the floor at his side before taking another mouthful of wine from the glass at his elbow.
‘His daughter married an Englishman, so I heard,’ the fourth man put in, then laughed. ‘Cuckolded him with a citizen from the French Embassy in London, who brought her back to Paris.’
‘That so?’ Jack asked lazily. ‘Where are they now?’
‘Why do you want to know?’
‘If the father has escaped, then the daughter will do.’
‘I hate to disappoint you,
mon vieux
, but Madame Guillotine got there before you.’
‘She’s dead?’ For a split second he let his shock and horror show, but quickly took control of himself. ‘
Mon Dieu
, and I had been looking forward to doing the job myself. How did it happen?’
‘The diplomat had ambition, he wanted to join the élite of the Jacobin Club. The price was the lady’s head. He paid it gladly.’ He looked down at the card Jack had just discarded. ‘Fool! Why throw away your best trump? Anyone would think you felt sorry for the bitch.’
Jack pulled himself together to answer him. ‘No, it’s one less Malincourt in the world.’ But he felt sick. Gabrielle, the beautiful, the enticing, the siren, his faithless wife, was dead. She had been taken from prison in a tumbril to the Place de la Révolutionwhere, surrounded by a howling mob, her lovely head had been severed from her body. No woman deserved that fate, whatever she had done.
The game ended and the winner scooped up the pot, just as the tocsin sounded the lifting of the curfew. Jack pushed back his chair and stood up. ‘I must go to my work.’
‘What work is that, citizen?’
‘Clerk to citizen Blanchard, the brewer.’
They laughed. ‘A good job, citizen. You should hang on to it. Bring a few extra bottles with you tonight.’
He said he would, though he doubted he would see them again. He had to find James Harston and the sooner the better. Life for an Englishman—or an Englishwoman—in France was set to become very uncomfortable; the sooner James took his sister home to England, the better. He told himself that he would be well rid of the pair of them.
By the morning of the third day Kitty was beginning to despair and Madame Clavier was growing more and more tetchy. On one occasion Kitty heard her telling her husband they should turn the Englishwomen out before they themselves were denounced for harbouring them. To give him his due, Jean had turned on her angrily, saying Jack was his friend, a brave and honourable man who had important work to do, and he would not turn his back on him. But even he had sounded worried.
‘I think we are a burden to them,’ Kitty said, when Judith remarked once again that
madame
was lacking in hospitality. ‘It is clear they are very poor.’
They were dressing in their garret room, which was so cold the inside of the windows was patterned with frost and there was a layer of ice on the jug of water which stood on the table beneath it. ‘Offer them money, then, for I am heartily sick of fish and vegetable soup.’
‘If Mr Chiltern is not back by mid-day today, I shall assume he is not coming and we will leave.’
‘You think he has abandoned us?’
‘
Madame
thinks so and he did threaten
‘When will that be, do you suppose?’
‘Soon.’ He looked closely at Jack. ‘What interest do you have in the widow Capet?’
‘None at all.’ He paused, knowing it was risky to go on, but remembering his promise to his father-in-law, he decided to risk it. ‘My interest is in the
ci-devant
comte de Malincourt,’ he went on, fingering the handle of a wicked-looking knife he had stuck in his belt. ‘I have a score to settle with him.’
‘Him!’ Another of the four broke in, contempt in his voice. ‘He fled with his family to England, in ‘eighty-nine, cowards and traitors all of them. I spit on them.’ And he spat on the floor at his side before taking another mouthful of wine from the glass at his elbow.
‘His daughter married an Englishman, so I heard,’ the fourth man put in, then laughed. ‘Cuckolded him with a citizen from the French Embassy in London, who brought her back to Paris.’
‘That so?’ Jack asked lazily. ‘Where are they now?’
‘Why do you want to know?’
‘If the father has escaped, then the daughter will do.’
‘I hate to disappoint you,
mon vieux
, but Madame Guillotine got there before you.’
‘She’s dead?’ For a split second he let his shock and horror show, but quickly took control of himself. ‘
Mon Dieu
, and I had been looking forward to doing the job myself. How did it happen?’
‘The diplomat had ambition, he wanted to join the élite of the Jacobin Club. The price was the lady’s head. He paid it gladly.’ He looked down at the card Jack had just discarded. ‘Fool! Why throw away your best trump? Anyone would think you felt sorry for the bitch.’
Jack pulled himself together to answer him. ‘No, it’s one less Malincourt in the world.’ But he felt sick. Gabrielle, the beautiful, the enticing, the siren, his faithless wife, was dead. She had been taken from prison in a tumbril to the Place de la Révolutionwhere, surrounded by a howling mob, her lovely head had been severed from her body. No woman deserved that fate, whatever she had done.
The game ended and the winner scooped up the pot, just as the tocsin sounded the lifting of the curfew. Jack pushed back his chair and stood up. ‘I must go to my work.’
‘What work is that, citizen?’
‘Clerk to citizen Blanchard, the brewer.’
They laughed. ‘A good job, citizen. You should hang on to it. Bring a few extra bottles with you tonight.’
He said he would, though he doubted he would see them again. He had to find James Harston and the sooner the better. Life for an Englishman—or an Englishwoman—in France was set to become very uncomfortable; the sooner James took his sister home to England, the better. He told himself that he would be well rid of the pair of them.
By the morning of the third day Kitty was beginning to despair and Madame Clavier was growing more and more tetchy. On one occasion Kitty heard her telling her husband they should turn the Englishwomen out before they themselves were denounced for harbouring them. To give him his due, Jean had turned on her angrily, saying Jack was his friend, a brave and honourable man who had important work to do, and he would not turn his back on him. But even he had sounded worried.
‘I think we are a burden to them,’ Kitty said, when Judith remarked once again that
madame
was lacking in hospitality. ‘It is clear they are very poor.’
They were dressing in their garret room, which was so cold the inside of the windows was patterned with frost and there was a layer of ice on the jug of water which stood on the table beneath it. ‘Offer them money, then, for I am heartily sick of fish and vegetable soup.’
‘If Mr Chiltern is not back by mid-day today, I shall assume he is not coming and we will leave.’
‘You think he has abandoned us?’
‘
Madame
thinks so and he did threaten
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