Chapter 6 #2
“Sometimes the smallest detail is of critical importance,” Nathaniel said. “So aye, if you would. I will read through them further this afternoon and will share their contents with étienne Baudelaire, if I may, to whom I will introduce you tonight.”
His gaze lingered a moment as she stood, the silk gown clinging to her. Not gratitude for the translations, although there was perhaps some of that in his eyes, but appreciation of a man for a woman; the prickle of awareness that chased up her arms informed her even had her eyes missed it.
He turned away, and she left the room, unaccountably flushed.
“More coffee, mon cher?” Amélie asked.
“Sil te plait.”
Amélie refilled Nate’s bowl and brought it to him. She prepared herself a second bowl, adding milk from a small pitcher. She carried it with her to a nearby chair, sinking gracefully onto the cushion. She reclined against the back, facing him.
“You will want to step carefully,” she said after studying him.
He could guess the lecture coming. “In what way?”
“With your mademoiselle Isobel.”
Amélie might appear to the casual observer nothing more than a beautiful courtesan, but outward appearances merely served as a distraction from her keen mind, a trait she had put to use many times over with men more guileless than himself.
He’d be damned before he admitted a thing. “I will do all that is possible to keep her safe.” Other than involving her, that is.
“I do not doubt you will.” Considerable irony laced Amélie’s voice. “Seeing the direction in which is your interest of her.”
“Anything other than the job at hand is a complication I’ve no wish for myself,” he said curtly.
“What we want and what we wish for are only sometimes aligned. This, you know.”
He took a large swallow of his coffee rather than answer.
Amélie sighed. “Tu es déterminé à être exaspérant. You are a man of good conduct, finer than you credit yourself after these assignments your masters in London have asked of you these past years. But let me tell you, purely as a friend: Step very carefully if it is complications you are wishing to avoid. Are you confident in this plan? That it is most wise for Isobel to attend with you these places in the guise of your lover?”
“Frascati’s was already planned, and if I am to get cozier with Dubois, another visit to Le Repaire must happen soon.”
“All this I understand,” Amélie said mildly. “This is not at all what I have asked.”
“Isobel entering into one or both places under my protection to seek information is far superior to how I found her.” His response sidestepped Amélie’s question; they both knew it. “Which was lurking about outside Les Moineaux and putting herself directly in danger.”
“These dangers you mention, have also they included abduction by intimidating men to the rooms of an attic?” Amélie quizzed. There was gentle reproach in the question despite her teasing tone.
What had Isobel told Amélie of that first night? “It might equally have been one of Compton’s or Dubois’s henchmen rather than me,” he said quietly. “Or even an opportunistic stranger, had she not more care. She was in no condition physically to put up any resistance. I simply noticed her first.”
Amélie acknowledged that with a wave of her hand. For a few minutes, neither of them spoke, and then Amélie asked, “Do you believe Isobel can do it, mon ami? Step into this role you ask of her?”
“Aye. She is intelligent. She is courageous. She is determined to succeed for her own reasons. She knows the stakes, inasmuch as I can share my purposes with her, and certainly she is clear on what she hopes to gain by association with me. She is no green girl, and she is not without defense.” He remembered her knives and felt his mouth curl in the approximation of a smile.
Amélie’s eyebrow lifted delicately, and he elaborated, “On rue Montmartre I took two knives off her, one of which she reached for before she knew I’d already found it. She also had a pistol in her valise that she brought with her from England, with ammunition besides.”
Amélie smiled. “Perhaps it is you for whom I should worry and not Isobel.”
“To your question: She has fortitude enough,” he said. “I wouldn’t bring her into this scenario did I not think she could do it. And should she not be equal to it, tonight is low stakes. Even Frascati’s will contain little danger. Do you doubt her?”
“Non. I too believe she can do it. Sometimes when one has suffered the loss of that which brings to life its sweetness, one is willing to risk much.” Amélie took a breath, her eyes briefly far away, reminding him again of what he knew of her history.
She had lost everything before reinventing herself into who and what she was now: a survivor and someone entirely in command of her own destiny, including overseeing a cadre of spies in Paris.
“Isobel is such a one, to risk herself so,” Amélie said.
“So I know too that you will be watchful that she does not risk too much.” She lifted her cup to her lips, and her eyes met his above the rim.
“Perhaps in this you will also find more reason to care for yourself? I have worried for you these past weeks, mon cher. You are cautious as ever in your work, oui, but I do not think you have consideration enough for yourself. You are changed these past months since I last saw you, since you are back and forth to France once again. You might ask yourself, why is this?”
He was saved from responding when Isobel returned carrying a sheaf of papers.
She started towards him. “The translations . . .” Her steps faltered; residual tension from his conversation with Amélie lingered.
Amélie smoothed the moment over, rising quickly.
“It will be quite unexceptional even with this cold for you, Nathaniel, to make a lover’s stroll upon the riverside near the Palais des Tuileries.
You will not have yet been there, ma chère?
” She looked inquiringly at Isobel, who shook her head.
“And so. You two will talk of matters together, and perhaps in the process be noticed together, but mostly, you will talk this through. There is much yet that you must know, and Nathaniel, you will be forthcoming with her.” She shot him a piercing look, and he nodded.
As forthcoming as I can be. Which might necessitate uncomfortable honesty.
“And then you two will return, that we might put together our heads, oui? Then it is settled.” Amélie turned back to Isobel.
“You will visit the gardens of the Tuileries, as anyone new to our lovely city might do with great innocence. And you will listen to what Nathaniel has to say, but you will do what is in your own interests best, oui?”
“Amélie—”
“Non!” Amélie swiftly cut off his words. “I will have it from Isobel’s own lips, that she will follow her own mind on this venture. You, Nathaniel, will not persuade or dissuade her. You will present to her facts.”
“You need not fear for me,” Isobel said to Amélie with a hint of mischief. “He did give it a shot that first night, but I have not yet allowed him to succeed at browbeating me.”
“Non, only to drag you insensible from the wet pavement.” But Amélie was smiling now.
She took Isobel’s hands in her own. “He will have care of you in public, ma chère, and you and I will discuss when he returns you such questions as arise. I will ring now for Louise, and she will bring for you a cloak to keep off the chill that better matches your dress than that masculine coat.”