The English Heiress (38 page)

“We have arrived, Madame Saintaire. Please do not be frightened. I must carry you inside. As soon as we are in the house, you will be released.”

Inside she would be trapped! Leonie stiffened as she felt herself shifted and prepared to kick her abductor. However, the cocoon surrounding her prevented her from bending her knees much, and she thought better of the idea. First of all, the kick would have no effect, swathed as she was, except possibly to annoy the man who was about to lift her. Second, even if she hurt him, what good would it do? Bound as she was, she could not unroll herself and run away. She could not even scream for help while in the street. She was as effectively trapped now as she would be inside—more effectively. If she seemed passive and they did release her as the voice had promised, she might have a better chance to escape later. Accordingly, Leonie did not resist when she felt arms slide under her.

However, she was not lifted. A fusillade of sharp barks erupted. An unfamiliar voice cried. “Damn that dog! I’ll kill it.” Leonie, who had recognized Fifi’s bark gave a convulsive wriggle, which brought her to her feet and, even gagged, managed to utter a muffled shriek. The voice that was familiar bellowed, “No! Don’t hurt the creature. Quick, carry this—this rug inside. Quick, I say.”

Now fear for Fifi made Leonie lunge and twist and cry out behind her gag so that the second man could barely grasp her.

“Stop!” the known voice whispered harshly. “Stop! I will bring the dog in to you safe. Stay still!”

It was not an easy decision to make. The voice could be lying. It occurred to Leonie that she could cause great trouble by squirming. If anyone was on the street or looked out of a window, a violently animated rug would certainly arouse suspicion. On the other hand, anyone who saw would probably be afraid to interfere. The best a person might do was report such a happening to the Section leader. But, if the men were Chaumette’s, such a report would probably be ignored. Besides, she simply could not struggle for long. Already her head throbbed ten times as hard, and her lungs felt as if they were on fire. Leonie allowed herself to sag forward into the arms that had been seeking to restrain her.

As she was lifted and carried, she heard the familiar voice calling, “Come, Fifi, come. Don’t be silly now, you know me. Come.”

No, Leonie prayed silently, no. Run, Fifi. Run home to Roger.

That prayer was not answered. Although Fifi would not have come to Danou, since she had never been told he was a “friend”, the scent of her goddess, the muffled voice and movement that proved the goddess herself was attached to the scent, that it was not merely clothing, was being taken inside the same place where the man who was not a “friend” was urging her to go. That was too complex a problem for the little dog. She only knew that is was right for her to be with the goddess, even if the goddess chose to shroud herself in a thing that smelled unpleasant. Nonetheless, Fifi did not like it. She followed the man carrying the goddess, but she barked her protest all the way, and when Leonie was set on her feet, Fifi rushed growling to pull at the covering she disapproved of so much.

Danou hastened to satisfy the dog’s desire, although he was not thinking of Fifi. The other man, however, launched a kick at her, which Fifi managed to avoid although she yipped in protest. This drew a shout of rage from Danou. “Damn you, Panel, get out! Didn’t you hear Citizen Chaumette say that Madame Saintaire was to have everything she wanted? You fool! Is it the way to please her, to kick her dog? Get out!”

The rage in the voice was clear enough to make Leonie reasonably sure that what was said was true. Her deduction must be correct. She was to be a hostage for Roger’s behavior. And for some reason she could not yet understand, she was to be well treated. The rug was coming off. Leonie trembled with the desire to run, not because she was frightened but because her capture was the ruin of all their hopes. Don’t be a fool, she told herself. You can’t get away now. You must seem to accept whatever they say. You must be quiet, docile—stupid—as you were for Louis. Perhaps you can fool them, escape later. The rug fell away completely.

“Do not scream,” the man said, “and I will take off the gag.” Leonie could see that his face was twisted with concern. “Believe me, no harm will come to you, but you can’t escape. The doors are all locked.”

His voice was raised, but only to be heard over Fifi’s barking. Leonie nodded and he went behind her and undid the gag.

“Hush, Fifi,” Leonie ordered as soon as he lips were free.

“Thank you, madame,” the man said with heartfelt sincerity. “I am Jacques Danou, and I am sorry, very sorry you were hurt. It was a misunderstanding—a complete misunderstanding,” he went on as Leonie raised a hand to her throbbing head. “Will you sit down? Would you like some wine? Perhaps you would like to lie down and rest for a while?”

“Yes,” Leonie said faintly.

The pain in her head seemed to have been greatly intensified by the light, and she felt sick and dizzy. She had quieted Fifi to spare herself, not to please Danou, for each bark had been like a knife thrust. In fact, his voice, although not as sharp, was also painfully unpleasant. Leonie felt an urgent need for quiet. She hoped she would be able to think and decide when the pain diminished, what if anything, she could do.

Danou sidled to the door with his eyes fixed on her and called over his shoulder that Madame Saintaire was going up to the bedchamber. Wine should be brought.

“And cold water and a cloth for my head,” Leonie whispered.

The order was relayed at once. Then, looking at her greenish pallor, Danou asked if she wanted him to carry her. Leonie barely repressed a shudder and insisted she would walk. She managed to do so, but the effort of climbing the stairs brought on an attack of vertigo so that she barely managed to reach the bed before she collapsed. She lay nearly unconscious, hearing distantly Danou’s strident yell that Panel should bring the wine and other restoratives. The thought of him touching her, ministering to her, was so repellent, however, that she roused herself when she heard him approaching the bed.

“Go away,” she mumbled. “Go away and leave me to myself.”

“But madame—”

“Go away,” Leonie wailed.

The anguish in her voice brought Fifi into immediate action. She growled and rushed to nip at Danou’s ankles. Restraining his immediate impulse, which was to kick the dog’s head in, he retreated, closing and locking the door behind him. Briefly, he considered leaving the house, leaving the city, even leaving the country. But that would mean losing everything he had so recently gained. He had been a carter, dressed in rags, barely surviving, before Chaumette had employed him. Now he took what he liked, where he liked, and no one could say no to him. He ordered Panel to sit in the room opposite Leonie’s and listen for her voice and then went out. It was nearly dinnertime. He would procure the best dinner that could be found. That would give him another chance to approach that unreasonable Saintaire slut and try again to ingratiate himself with her.

The prompt response to her demand for privacy soothed Leonie. She hushed Fifi again and managed to soak the cloth in the water, wring it out and apply it to her splitting head. The pain receded a little, but the dizziness remained. Thoughts jumbled and jostled in her brain. She wept a little, grieving over the lost opportunity. They would never escape, she thought, and then pushed that despairing notion away. She would get away and get back to Roger, she would! But later, not now. Now she was too sick, too dizzy. Later.

As it happened, Roger did not need to wait long for the gun parts. The package was made up and he paid. It took him longer to find a carriage. It was one thing to walk across the city empty-handed, another to carry back a heavy load. Roger signaled Garnier and asked whether he wish to ride home with him.

“If not,” he said, “I will wait while you find another carriage. I do not wish Citizen Chaumette to think I am trying to avoid his watchdog.”

He might not have been so polite if he had known that his efforts to avoid Chaumette’s suspicion were in vain. However, he had no way of knowing that, and he did not even suspect it when he entered his shop and found Chaumette seated in a chair taken from the kitchen. If Roger felt anything, it was a faint hope that Leonie had not been stubborn and argued. He did not think she would be so foolish, because he had explained that Chaumette was a real power in the revolutionary government and not to be slighted, but… His thoughts were interrupted when Chaumette said sharply, “Please do not resist, this is only a precaution,” and simultaneously his arms were seized from behind.

Roger jerked convulsively in spite of the warning. One man staggered against him, but the other held firm and Chaumette said even more sharply, “No! I only wish to speak to you.”

“Why should a man be held down to be spoken to?” Roger snarled, but did not continue to pull at his captors. It would not be possible for him to take them both when they were completely on guard.

“Because I am about to tell you something you will regard as unpleasant, something that will make you very angry. I assure you there is no real cause for alarm or even anger. You will see that I have done no more than take a necessary precaution.”

“No!” Roger shouted, guessing at once and beginning to struggle. “No! Leonie! Leonie!”

“She is perfectly safe. Quite unhurt. Not even frightened,” Chaumette roared over Roger’s protests.

“I’ll kill you,” Roger hissed, his eyes blazing. “I’ll kill you.”

“No, you will not because you do not and will not have the slightest cause to kill me. I tell you your wife is quite safe. She is aware of what has happened and why. She is comfortable lodged, not imprisoned.”

“You lie!”

Chaumette took in the glaring eyes, the cords standing in Roger’s neck as he strained for freedom. The two burly thugs that held him were barely succeeding in controlling him. For a moment Roger’s life and Leonie’s too, hung in the balance while Chaumette considered whether it would be possible to quell so deep a violence. However, the very strength of Roger’s reaction marked his devotion to the woman. Thus, the deeper the anger now, the more abject would be Roger’s obedience when he came to accept the situation. However, Chaumette realized he would need to be very careful. He must not hint that Roger’s wife had agreed with what was done—that might make a too-loving husband jealous. He was also proud of his own foresight. The girl was silly. If they convinced her she was comfortable, safe, and would be richly rewarded for compliance, she would be able to allay Roger’s doubts so that he would not even contemplate betrayal.

“I do not lie. I did not say Citoyenne Saintaire came willingly. She was abducted, but she was not hurt in any way, and the matter had been explained to her so that she is not afraid. She has been assured that you are safe, that we mean neither of you any harm, and that she will be returned to you as soon as you place in my hands the—the package—”

“You mean h—it is gone?” Roger cried. “But I do not have it!”

“No, no,” Chaumette soothed. “The package will be delivered to you just as I told you before. However, I find I will not be able to travel with you as I thought I would. You will need to store it for me for a while. I need assurance that you will not tamper with the contents, however, or use them for your own purposes. Oh, I know you to be an honest man, Saintaire, but some temptations are too great. It would be unforgivable on my part to place such a temptation in your path without providing you with an even greater inducement to ignore it.”

By the time Chaumette finished speaking, Roger had stopped struggling and merely glared. After a moment more, he dropped his eyes. “I see,” he muttered.

“I am sure you do, and you will see more clearly every moment. I have sworn your wife is safe, and living in complete comfort. You have no reason to believe me, but I will prove what I say is true. You may write a letter to her, ask her any question or questions to which only she would know the answers, or any question about her situation. The only restriction on her answer will be that she will not be able to hint at where she is being kept. You may write to her every day, if you like, even after you take the package away with you, and you will receive her answers. No one will read your letters. Hers must be read, of course. I am sorry to intrude on your privacy, but you will understand it cannot be helped.”

“We can write to each other?” Roger breathed, his eyes lifting to Chaumette’s.

“Certainly. Depending on your behavior and hers, it may even be possible to arrange a meeting between you—if there is a delay in obtaining the package. In any case your separation will not be for very long. I may need the package returned, or may come to get it very soon. If I come, I will bring your wife, of course. However, at the most it will only be a few months—before summer certainly she will be returned to you.”

Roger was standing perfectly still now. Reason had replaced rage. There was no way he could get free of the men who held him, seize Chaumette, and wring Leonie’s hiding place out of him. For now, he must seem to accept the situation, “You can tell your men to let me go,” Roger said quietly. “I am not angry anymore, except,” he raised his eyes so that Chaumette should not think he was trying to hide the expression in them, “I agreed to care for your package in good faith. I did not even tell my wife about it.” That was a safe enough lie. Roger had told Leonie to pretend she did not know why they were watched except that her husband was engaged in special business with the commune. “I felt it would be soon enough to know when the package arrived. I am not so pleased that I cannot be trusted.”