Page 58 of A Noble Affair
Charles and Chastitywere standing on the edge of the crowd of swirling people. “Let’s dance.” Charles didn’t wait for an answer and took Chastity into his arms. He applied pressure on her back to pull her close and led her in the waltz. She didn’t exactly float in his arms, but she was much freer and more relaxed than she had been at the lesson. “You’re getting good at this.”
She stared at his vest, and it allowed him a brief respite from his feelings. He didn’t dare look at her too long or their first kiss would end up being a very public one. He was silent as he led her in step to the music, but finally teased in a formal tone, “You are trembling, mademoiselle.”
She responded in kind. “I am nervous, monsieur.”
“Don’t be,” he said, simply. “You’re with me.”
Jean presseda button on his watch to show the time; it was nearly 9:30. He stood quietly, intending to move as soon as he heard the fireworks. It had not been difficult to find a schedule of the events for the evening since it was open to the public. It wasn’t until 9:35 that he heard the firstboom, and at that he went swiftly to the gate, opened it, and only paused at the end of the corridor to make sure no one was there before crossing the room. No one came, and no alarms went off as he walked to the exposed wall. Prepared, he took the small explosive device from the pocket of his vest, and began unscrewing the section that held the tripwire.
“Isabelle, where is Louis going?”Samuel saw him slip out of the crowd as soon as the fireworks started.
She looked at him in alarm. “Oh no, no, no. If he’s going off to use drugs again, we have to stop him.” They broke away from the crowd and just caught sight of Louis as he rounded the château, heading towards the side entrance. “Come on. I think I know where he’s going.”
The fresh night air,as they stood facing the fountain, helped clear Charles’s head. He hadn’t felt anything like this in so long he had trouble thinking clearly. He stood with Chastity in the exact spot he had occupied at the last fireworks display over twenty years earlier. He put his arm around her again and breathed in the perfume she was wearing. His senses came to life, and his body buzzed with contentment. He felt the curve of her waist, and as he pulled her closer, caught the soapy scent of her hair.So that’s where the lavender comes from.The fireworks started, and he was hovering between two planes of existence. In one, he was falling hard for a woman for the first time in almost two decades. In another, his mind started to unravel the problem that was nagging him, which seemed to call to him as if from a dream.Boom, boom, boomechoed from a distance.
Suddenly, he gasped. The gardening tools.
“Chastity, wait here,” he whispered, then skirted the crowd to enter through the front doorway, which had been left open. She obeyed for only a few seconds before following him.
Samuel was nowin the lead, trailing Louis. He saw him head towards the basement, say something to the security guard, and slip through the door.
Isabelle stopped suddenly, her mouth open. “That’s the back stairwell that leads to the old kitchen. Where’s he going?” They rushed up to the guard, who put his hand out to stop them, looking at Samuel suspiciously.
“He’s with me,” Isabelle said. The guard didn’t register any sign of recognition. “Come on. Jef knows me. He came here with my mom tonight. I’m the viscount’s niece.” She stomped her foot impatiently.
“Excusez-moi, Mademoiselle.” The guard mumbled something about just doing his job. He stepped to the side and they rushed through.
The mini explosionhad worked perfectly, and Jean had been fortunate enough to time it with an explosion of fireworks, which was not something that could be planned. He had set the device high enough so no sparks would damage the painting, but now he needed to pull away at some of the plaster so he could reach in and grab it. Even when he stretched his arm down as far as he could, he wasn’t able to feel the edge of the painting. He focused on working as quickly as he could, while making as little noise as possible. He just needed to pull this off and get out of here.
Charles raceddown the main staircase of the cellar, not registering the click of high heels behind him. It occurred to him that he should have had a guard stationed here, too, so he could get some reinforcements, but he didn’t want to waste time calling for any until he was sure his hunch was right. He remembered, once when he was young, Pierre showing him how the key to the shed could slide into the handle of the gardening tool and screw in place. It had been made that way as a safeguard so the gardener wouldn’t drop the key in the flowerbeds while he was working. There must have been another key hidden in those tools, but what could they open? He knew the answer was in the basement.
Jean reacheddown until he managed to grasp the edge of the painting with his fingertips. He pulled it to the edge of the hole, and paused to breathe before slipping it through. He brought the delicate canvas to the light sconce and examined it for damage. Ah. The cellar was dry, and the painting was in near perfect condition. He released his breath. This was all going to work out.
Footsteps. He leaped to his feet and took out his gun. Holding the painting in one hand and the gun in the other, he started to run back towards the iron gate. If he could get through and lock it, it would buy him enough time to make his way through the tunnel and out the secondary exit he had discovered, which exited at the stables. Before he could get to the opening, the viscount came running up from the left. Viscount de Brase stopped short and showed his hands as soon as the gun appeared.
Before either could say a word, two more pairs of feet skidded to a stop.
“Jean,” Louis shouted, coming in from the right—angry, but not all that surprised.
“Marc,” yelled Chastity, coming up behind the viscount, almost speechless with astonishment. The color drained from her face as the revelation hit her. “Jean-Marc,” she said with a shake of her head, remembering the christian name his parents gave him that none of his friends used. “How could you?”
He was not destinedto answer because Samuel, who had been following Louis, crept along the wall out of sight. He had picked up a large vase from a nearby table and, edging towards the thief, smashed it over his head, sending him crumpled to the floor.
With the thief in a heap at his feet, Samuel turned to Charles. “I’m sorry about your vase.”
Charles exhaled and gave a small laugh. “I didn’t like it anyway.” He peered past Samuel. “Oh. Hi, Jef. Nice of you to show up.”
“Adelaide saw you all leave.” His friend had the decency to look sheepish. “Looks like you handled it just fine without me.” He took out a pair of handcuffs, and pulled the thief’s wrists behind him roughly, just as he was starting to come to. He snapped the cuffs in place. “Christoph, get the guys down here,” he said on his radio. “We’re in the basement.”
Charles walked over to Samuel and shook his hand. “I owe you. How did you know to come down here?”
“We were following Louis,” Isabelle piped up. “Louis, what were you doing down here? Did you know this was going to happen?”
“I was late getting to the fireworks, and when I was walking around the crowd, I saw a flash of light coming from the basement window. So I left and went to investigate. It looked like the light was coming from the old kitchen so I went there first, and when I didn’t find anything, I came here.”
A crowd was beginning to form, although the guards had carried out their instructions and had allowed only staff and family downstairs. Charles watched his brother-in-law assist his mother into the room, her eyes fixed on the painting that lay on the floor.
Jef was still on his radio. “Rémy, go talk to the police officer in charge about getting someone over to the Fenley school in case there’s an accomplice waiting on that side of the tunnel. Be discreet, though. We don’t want him to get wind of it.”
