Page 55 of Traitor in Her Arms (The Scarlet Chronicle 2)

She started back for Le Grand Véfour, intending to rendezvous with Sedgwick and return to Alex’s to study the cockade more closely, but as she neared the restaurant, she saw Sedgwick step outside. A beautiful dark-haired woman was with him, and the two parted before he spotted Gabrielle. She stepped quickly behind a colonnade, not wanting to be seen. From her place in the shadows, she watched the woman stride quickly after Sir Andrew.

Gabrielle’s heart rose in her throat. Who was this woman and why was she following Sir Andrew? Why had she been meeting with Sedgwick? He’d told her he had an appointment with a solicitor. Clearly, he had lied. Gabrielle had known she could not trust him, but she didn’t think he would betray her.

She pressed back against the colonnade, uncertain what to do next. Should she walk away without meeting him? Where would she go? Alex might be able to find her another safe place, but hadn’t she already compromised Alex and the League by involving Ramsey?

Should she approach him and act as though she’d seen nothing? Should she ask him outright about the woman? Perhaps there was nothing to worry about. Perhaps she was overreacting. The woman might have been an old acquaintance who just happened to set off in the same direction as Sir Andrew.

Gabrielle certainly wished she could convince herself of the plausibility of any of these scenarios, but her instincts were better than that. Something was not right.

“Why are you hiding, citoyenne?”

She jumped straight into the air and let out a small shriek. She put her hand over the cockade to protect it, then realizing she did so, moved her hand to cover her racing heart. “You startled me!”

Ramsey was frowning at her. “Forgive me.” He took her hand and led her away from the colonnade. “Why were you hiding?”

“I wasn’t hiding.” But she knew she’d answered too quickly. Her tone sounded guilty. He led her out of the Palais-Royal and away from the groups of people who might hear them. “I was looking for you.”

“In the shadows?”

“No, I…” Now was the time to ask about the woman she’d seen him with. Would he deny having been with her?

“I didn’t find Sir Andrew in Le Grand Véfour,” he said.

“He found me,” she answered. “We strolled for a few moments, and I purchased a new cockade.”

He glanced at it quickly. Did she imagine his actions were jerky? Was he trying as hard as she to act nonchalant? “I met an old friend in the restaurant,” he said.

“Oh?” She tried very hard to sound surprised and thought she sounded more like a strangled cat. “Who was she? Or he? It could have been either, I suppose.”

Oh good God! What had the Pimpernel seen in her?

She took a deep breath and felt a wave of calm descend. She could do this. “I didn’t realize you had any friends in Paris,” she said calmly, her voice level.

“I have a few. We only spoke for a moment. I would have introduced you, but she’s not the sort of woman one introduces.”

“I see.” It was a very plausible story. She wanted desperately to believe it. But the woman had started after Sir Andrew as if following him…

They had been walking in the direction of Alex’s house, but a crowd had formed ahead, and they were forced to pause and look for a path around. She glanced down the street and saw yet another tumbrel making slow progress to meet Madame Guillotine. “Are there so many sent to die?”

“The prisons are full of nobility and enemies of the republic,” a sansculotte standing near her said. “Which are you?”

“We are friends of the republic, citoyen,” Ramsey said. “You see our patriotism here.” He indicated their cockades.

The sansculotte scratched his matted hair under the red Phrygian cap he wore. Gabrielle noticed he had dried blood under his fingernails. “Pretty symbols. But do they mean anything?”

“We are true patriots, citoyen,” Gabrielle added. Oh, why had she not learned to keep her mouth shut? She was not in London anymore. She could not speak freely.

The last tumbrel rolled by, its wheels clattering on the street stones. The crowd closed in to follow, yelling insults and hurling refuse at the poor condemned.

“You will come with us to the Place de la Révolution,” the sansculotte said. It was not a request.

Gabrielle’s mind raced. How could they escape? How could they make their way back to the house without arousing suspicion?

And then a woman with a smear of blood on her cheek stepped beside the sansculotte they had been speaking to. “Such a loyal patriot,” she said, indicating Gabrielle’s new cockade. “Very pretty.” She reached out to touch it, and Gabrielle, afraid the woman would spot the paper inside this cockade—with its instructions from the Scarlet Pimpernel—covered it with her hand.

The woman frowned and stepped closer. “Let us go!” Gabrielle said. “We will miss the best part if we dawdle.”

She caught Ramsey’s surprised look before she started for the Place de la Révolution. She knew where it was. It had been called Place Louis XV, and it was near the Tuileries—not far from where Alex lived. But the violence was everywhere in Paris, and all of it too close for her liking.

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