stepping toward me from behind the arches with rouged faces and shining eyes, taunting me, rousing me, and yes, my body betrayed me with every touch. Warm fingers brushed against the insides of my thighs as I passed; painted mouths whispered profanities. A few steps farther a blond woman with a missing tooth took my hand and pressed it to her breast, where I felt a nipple harden beneath chiffon.
I kept my eyes resolutely forward, focused them on a series of arches above my head; I concentrated on reading the faded letters advertising the wares of the numerous shops to left and right: CHANGE DE TOUTES SORTES DE MONNAIE , OMBRES CHINOISES SÉRAPHINE , CAFÉ AMERICAIN , CABINET DE CONSULTATION À L ’ ENTRESOL . I watched her slip through an arch and step out into the bright late-afternoon light.
She stopped to look around her, then walked toward a woman in a white dress who was sitting on a bench under a plane tree, reading a book to a small dark-haired child. The seated woman’s hair was gathered into a knot on the top of her head with a twist of purple silk in a way that reminded me of Grecian statues. She was small and neat, elegant. Delphine, the child from the mail coach, was sitting on the woman’s lap, her eyes fixed on the book. She seemed to be struggling to stay awake.
Lucienne stood very still a few feet away, watching the womanread to the child, until the girl, glancing up, saw her, clambered off the woman’s lap and ran across the grass toward her mother. Lucienne took Delphine in her arms and swung her up into the air and spun her around, the soft burnt-orange cloth of the child’s dress fluttering up around her. Then the three of them, animated and laughing, sat down under the plane tree in the long shadows and Lucienne tipped out the gold coins she had won at the card table into the grass for the child to play with. It was a pretty picture.
Only a few hours before, I had decided to return home. Now I was watching Lucienne Bernard sitting in the Palais Royal gardens dressed in the clothes of a man, with the child Delphine and another woman, who might be a cousin or a friend.
What if her promise had been a ruse to throw me off? I wondered, considering how quickly I had believed her. I had already begun to question whether instead of following her, I should be sending word to Jagot to bring his men. But I had no choice, I reasoned. I would follow her to her lodgings, make a careful note of everything I saw or heard, and then, if she failed to appear with my belongings in the passage des Petits-Pères at seven o’clock, I would go straight to the Bureau. Then Jagot and his men would go and retrieve my papers, the corals, the mammoth-bone specimens, and the precious manuscript pages, and arrest Lucienne and her associates. And I would go to Cuvier and start again. Properly this time. Almost a month had passed, but the work on Cuvier’s book would be there just the same.
I need an army of assistants to complete my great work
, he had written in that letter to Jameson. He would still need me.
Lucienne walked with the woman and the child into the warren of streets lined with brothels and gambling dens. At a fork in the road they separated, Lucienne walking in one direction, the woman and the child in the other. When Delphine glanced back over her shoulder for a moment, she saw me. Her black eyes lingered on me, and she smiled.
I found, to my relief, that Lucienne had been distracted by theshops and the people passing her. I followed at a distance through crowded streets, watching for the scrap of sea-green silk and the head of sleek black hair moving out there in front of me. Black like crow feathers.
We entered the gilded passage des Panoramas. Storefronts displayed their wares behind polished glass; some goods spilled out onto the marbled walkway: fabrics, umbrellas, boots, flowers, cashmere shawls, books, prints, musical instruments. I ran my hands over cheap knickknacks, requisites in walnut shells,
I kept my eyes resolutely forward, focused them on a series of arches above my head; I concentrated on reading the faded letters advertising the wares of the numerous shops to left and right: CHANGE DE TOUTES SORTES DE MONNAIE , OMBRES CHINOISES SÉRAPHINE , CAFÉ AMERICAIN , CABINET DE CONSULTATION À L ’ ENTRESOL . I watched her slip through an arch and step out into the bright late-afternoon light.
She stopped to look around her, then walked toward a woman in a white dress who was sitting on a bench under a plane tree, reading a book to a small dark-haired child. The seated woman’s hair was gathered into a knot on the top of her head with a twist of purple silk in a way that reminded me of Grecian statues. She was small and neat, elegant. Delphine, the child from the mail coach, was sitting on the woman’s lap, her eyes fixed on the book. She seemed to be struggling to stay awake.
Lucienne stood very still a few feet away, watching the womanread to the child, until the girl, glancing up, saw her, clambered off the woman’s lap and ran across the grass toward her mother. Lucienne took Delphine in her arms and swung her up into the air and spun her around, the soft burnt-orange cloth of the child’s dress fluttering up around her. Then the three of them, animated and laughing, sat down under the plane tree in the long shadows and Lucienne tipped out the gold coins she had won at the card table into the grass for the child to play with. It was a pretty picture.
Only a few hours before, I had decided to return home. Now I was watching Lucienne Bernard sitting in the Palais Royal gardens dressed in the clothes of a man, with the child Delphine and another woman, who might be a cousin or a friend.
What if her promise had been a ruse to throw me off? I wondered, considering how quickly I had believed her. I had already begun to question whether instead of following her, I should be sending word to Jagot to bring his men. But I had no choice, I reasoned. I would follow her to her lodgings, make a careful note of everything I saw or heard, and then, if she failed to appear with my belongings in the passage des Petits-Pères at seven o’clock, I would go straight to the Bureau. Then Jagot and his men would go and retrieve my papers, the corals, the mammoth-bone specimens, and the precious manuscript pages, and arrest Lucienne and her associates. And I would go to Cuvier and start again. Properly this time. Almost a month had passed, but the work on Cuvier’s book would be there just the same.
I need an army of assistants to complete my great work
, he had written in that letter to Jameson. He would still need me.
Lucienne walked with the woman and the child into the warren of streets lined with brothels and gambling dens. At a fork in the road they separated, Lucienne walking in one direction, the woman and the child in the other. When Delphine glanced back over her shoulder for a moment, she saw me. Her black eyes lingered on me, and she smiled.
I found, to my relief, that Lucienne had been distracted by theshops and the people passing her. I followed at a distance through crowded streets, watching for the scrap of sea-green silk and the head of sleek black hair moving out there in front of me. Black like crow feathers.
We entered the gilded passage des Panoramas. Storefronts displayed their wares behind polished glass; some goods spilled out onto the marbled walkway: fabrics, umbrellas, boots, flowers, cashmere shawls, books, prints, musical instruments. I ran my hands over cheap knickknacks, requisites in walnut shells,
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