“Good.” Alex opened the door. She’d never hate him as much as he hated himself.
Alex found her asleep on the bed, sprawled on her stomach, arms outflung. As he lit a candle, Lucia stirred groggily. “Tell me you weren’t with Brigitte,” she mumbled.
“What?” He sat down on the edge of the bed.
“Nothing,” she said, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. “You were away too long.” She rolled over and smiled at him. “But I trust you.”
“You shouldn’t,” he said huskily. His gaze devoured her. The dress she wore barely covered the roundness of her breasts, and the material was so thin he could see the outline of her bent leg in the candlelight.
“Where did you get that gown?” he breathed.
She’d been watching him, must have heard the desire in his voice because her eyes grew dark with arousal. “Sophie loaned it to me. Do you like it?” She reached up and caressed his cheek.
He caught her hand. “Too much,” he murmured, kissing her palm. “You’re going to need a cape to leave the room.”
Or a suit of armor.
“But why leave?” she said, her free hand running up his arm. “We’re safe here.”
Safe from De´charne´, but not safe from him. “Dewhurst is on his way with a carriage. He’ll take you to my ship and back to England.”
Lucia sat up. “Now? But—”
An urgent rap on the door silenced her.
Alex glanced behind them. “Probably just Sophie telling us Freddie is back with the carriage.” He pulled away from Lucia and went to the door.
He tensed when he saw Brigitte’s face. She spoke quickly and quietly in French, and Alex swore when he closed the door. “Damn.”
“What is it?” Lucia rose to her feet. “Is it Freddie?”
“No. De´charne´’s here.”
She gasped. “Oh, Lord, Alex! We need a plan.” Alex held up a hand. “Slow down, Lucia. Brigitte says he hasn’t asked about us yet, but he’s got the guard with him, which is a bad sign.”
“Maybe we can hide.” Lucia looked around the room. “Or escape through the window.”
Alex ran a hand through his hair. “You’ll break your neck. We’re getting out of here. I had a devil of a time booking you passage on a ship. It’s almost eleven now, and it leaves at midnight, whether you’re on it or not.”
“That’s all right. I’ll go with you to Paris.”
“Forget it, Lucia. Sophie’s keeping De´charne´ occupied downstairs. If we leave now, we’ll be gone before they get a chance to search these rooms. Her girls entertain some of the most powerful men in France. The army can’t search at random without a few heads rolling.”
Seeming resigned for the moment, Lucia slipped her shoes on. “But how are we going to get away without them seeing us?”
“We’ll go through the kitchen. By now Dewhurst should be waiting out back.” Alex only hoped De´charne´ hadn’t thought to station men at that exit and, if he had, that Freddie was able to dispatch them.
He opened the door gingerly and peered out. Down the hallway, Marie nodded encouragingly, then followed a man into a room and shut the door. Alex motioned to Lucia into the hallway. He took her hand, pulling her rapidly down the corridor. They were exposed and vulnerable, and she jumped at every noise. By the time they reached the staircase, Alex’s nerves were as tight as a spring. At the landing, he paused to listen.
“I wish we could take Marie with us,” Lucia whispered from behind him.
“Shh,” Alex said. Then turned sharply, taking her words in. “What?”
“I wish we could take Marie,” she repeated. “Do you think we can?”
Had the woman just escaped from Bedlam? What did she think this was? An orphanage? He stared at her and finally choked out, “And what are you going to do with a French whore once you get back to London?”
“Don’t talk about her that way!” Lucia hissed. “She’s just a child, only sixteen. I could train her to be a lady’s maid. French maids are becoming quite the thing.”
