Page 80 of Love Beneath the Guillotine
Henry’s smile was dazzling with the confirmation. “It was calculated, wasn’t it?”
“That was the plan. Part of it. And that they should keep you in the tower, isolated, so we could escape more easily. And all of it… I hope you understand. I couldn’t let you kill Bernard DuPont. And had I not stopped you that night, I think you would have.”
“I absolutely would have,” Henry said. “I’d have cut down anyone who came for us. If he’s a friend of yours?—”
“He was like a father to me,” Léon said. “After mine died, he really took care of me. So I’m sorry for everything you went through?—”
“You shouldn’t be.” Henry chuckled. “You’ve seen what I’d do for someone I care about.”
Léon laughed in return. “It’s only fair then, I suppose. All things considered.”
“All things considered,” Henry agreed.
“It all went so smoothly, too.” Léon’s tone cooled. “Until I needed Mollard to give me those keys.”
Henry’s fingers closed on Léon’s in support. “What you’ve done is worth a thousand of him. Don’t beat yourself up. People die. It happens all the time.”
“I don’t kill them,” Léon argued. “Not unless?—”
“Not unless it’s a kindness,” Henry finished for him. Cheeks blooming like meadow flowers, “That’s what I adore about you.” Henry leaned in and kissed him softly. “Your good heart, right in the midst of all the horror. What would the world be without someone like you?” Léon turned away to hide the tear that started to his eye, but too late. The second it broke, Henry kissed it from his cheek. “You’ve been so strong. But I don’t want you to have to live like that anymore.”
Léon let his weight drift into Henry’s protective arms, hidden away from all the world, where Henry kissed his hair.
Henry breathed out a long sigh. “If you really want to go back, I’ll find a way to fix it. I’ll send them a letter or something, with an account of what my ‘accomplice’ did to the vile one. I’ll detail my crime in a taunting scrawl. Maybe written in blood. I’ll make it very convincing.”
Léon got in on the joke with a soft smile. “Or tell them you conjured the whole thing?”
“They’d believe it after the job you did.” He felt Léon chuckle against his chest.
Now they’d found themselves back on safer ground, Léon plucked up the courage to ask, “How did you learn those things? With the animals. Did you have to… to train or something?”
“No.” He offered a warm and indulgent smile. “I was born like that.”
“So your sister…”
Henry deflected, exactly like Léon thought he would. “It’s nothing to do with Catherine.”
Enough was enough. Léon looked straight into his eyes and revealed, “She almost caved a roof in on my head in Saint-Quentin. She turned the sky orange, made the clouds bleed, ripped roads apart…”
Henry wiped a hand over his eyes, a laugh caught in his throat. “That is… very like her…” With a hard breath, “I assume you must have all come out okay, considering you’re here to tell me about it.” Moving a lock of Léon’s hair back to examine his face, “She didn’t hurt you?”
Léon shook his head, all the more fond of Henry now he’d let him in on their secret. “No. And no one else. I could see…” He scanned Henry’s face for his reaction. “It seemed to me like she didn’t mean to do it.”
“She didn’t,” he said firmly. “She never does. She was born with it, like me. But in her case…” Léon watched all the heaviness return, like he’d gone from waking fresh to the end of a long day of hard labour in the space of three seconds. “It’s getting stronger. Every day. And when she gets upset… She can’t control it, you see. I can call a bird, or a rat, or a horse. She… She can’t do anything. Not deliberately. So we go from town to town, city to city, and I just pray?—”
Léon finished Henry’s sentence. “You pray she’ll find a place she’ll be truly happy. So it won’t happen anymore.”
Now it was Henry who was overcome with emotion. He pulled away, making towards the cottage. He’d been lost in a fantasy every bit as much as Léon had. A fantasy of a sunny field in France, of a cottage, and horses, and all of it with Léon. But there was reality, always waiting for him.
Léon wasn’t coming to Paris. He was going to marry some stupid girl and throw himself away. And none of it would ever end for Henry. These short moments of peace he’d found in Léon’s arms were to be nothing but sad and bitter memories, the lot dissipating at his fingertips as soon as he touched it.
“Henri?” Léon called. He ran after him, then took Henry’s face in two hands and kissed him. “If we leave at nightfall, we’llmake it some time towards tomorrow morning. So what if, just for today, we… Could we just enjoy this? This one day we have?”
The edge of Henry’s lip shook, but with an effort, he firmed his voice, even if his words admitted all his shattered exhaustion. “Honestly, Ange?” He gazed back with sad eyes. “I think it will hurt too much.”
But Léon stepped closer, resting his forehead against Henry’s, their eyes closing as he slid hands around Henry’s waist. “I don’t care if it hurts. Let’s do it, anyway.”
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