“Dauphine,” she said, nodding, making a little sign over her heart, with three fingers raised.
“And…Gerard as well.”
She stilled. “Which one of them did it?”
“Julien, sort of— But, wait. You know about them? That they’re here now?”
She looked at me with obvious disdain. “Why do you think I’m in here, hiding in the dark, wretched girl?”
“The staff is missing—”
“I sent them away…for help,” she added as I blinked uncomprehendingly. “When I saw him here, Viktor, outside my son’s study, I sent for help. I’ve known those boys all their lives. I’ve seen what my son accomplished…. Believe me when I say we’ll need all the help we can muster.”
“Alex is hiding upstairs. The lift was left down here and without Frederick, he’s been trapped.”
She tutted in dismay. “Whatever you plan on doing, those boys will stop you at every turn. Viktor is ruthless and Julien—”
“Julien is dead,” I cut in. “Viktor killed him.”
Again, she made the gesture over her heart. A ward of protection, a prayer for a departed soul.
“And you’re certain…you’re certain that my son…”
I nodded. “I’m so sorry, Madame Laurent.”
Her sigh was steeped in resignation. “He made many terrible mistakes, that son of mine. I always knew those boys would be the death of him, one way or another.” She shook her head sadly, her carefully pinned curls swaying.
I wanted to reach out and comfort her. The lines across her face seemed deeper, etched with a grief that had not yet fully emerged. As if sensing my thoughts, she pulled away, hugging her arms across her chest, a crumbling tower of solitude.
“You stay here and I’ll send the lift for Alex…. Surely there’s a carriage left. We can take that and get away.”
“And how do you propose my grandson get into said carriage? Without that giant of a manservant, he’ll be just as stuck out there as he is here.”
“There’s the lift, down at the docks, to lower him to the rowboats. We’ll go out into the lake and wait till the servants return with help.”
“I…I suppose we might try that.” She stood up on shaking legs, gripping the back of the sofa, fingers dug in deep.
I glanced about the room. It was full of flower vases, little golden statues of Dauphine’s beloved peacocks. Everything was too small, too delicate. I spotted a set of tools near the hearth and brightened.
The heft of the brass poker reassured me. Little lines of flowers wound their way to its pointed tip but I wouldn’t let theirbeauty be a distraction. I would use this weapon if I had to. To save myself. To save Alex.
I practiced swinging it through the air, feeling ridiculous with Marguerite’s eyes upon me.
“You look almost intimidating,” she said appraisingly. “I suppose it’s the best we have. Where is Alex? Exactly?”
“Upstairs, somewhere. I told him to come when he heard the lift. We won’t have time to come back this way for you. Head for the boat now. We’ll meet you there.”
She sighed, pained to be taking orders from one who so annoyed her. “Very well. Bring me one of those rods. If you’re going to leave me here to fend for myself, I too would like to be armed.”
I selected the dustpan for her. It was lighter than the poker, but its scoop would make an effective weapon if required.
She tested the weight and nodded approvingly.
Now armed, we made our way to the exit on tiptoe. I took a deep breath before turning the doorknob, certain Viktor would be lying in wait for us.
The hall was empty, seemingly deserted.
My frame trembled as I peeked out to check the corridor.
