“I couldn’t get away. Marat found me irreplaceable.” His mother looked as grand as a duchess in the gown of pink brocade, and the slight stoutness of her tall form made her appear all the more majestic, Raoul Dupree thought adoringly. Anne Dupree’s gray-streaked hair had been dressed in the latest fashion by the maid Raoul had provided her the year before, her lips painted into a vermilion pout and a small beauty patch in the shape of a heart resting just to the left of her lips. Beauty patches enchanted her, and she often bemoaned their passing from fashion. She was gazing at him expectantly, her gray eyes bright with eagerness. Her eyes were not always kind, but they were kind that day.
“But you would have left Marat and come to me if I’d sent for you?”
He nodded, feeling the happiness flood him as he looked at her. “I’ve brought you a present,” he said tentatively. “It belonged to a princess.” He wasn’t sure of the ownership of the necklace, but he knew his mother would value it more if she thought it had been worn by a royal.
His mother’s gaze went eagerly to the silk-wrappedobject he had handed her. “The Princess de Lambelle? I heard you got rid of that piece of goods.”
“No, another one.” He watched eagerly as she unwrapped the necklace. It wasn’t as easy to please his mother now as it had been before he’d showered her with this fine house and servants, but surely this trinket would earn him her pleasure. “From the Abbaye de la Reine.”
“Impious whores.” His mother smiled. “You did well there, Raoul.”
He felt an exquisite rush of pleasure. “Marat praised me highly and Danton speaks of wishing to commandeer my services. Should I accept him?”
“I’ll think about it while you’re away in Spain.” His mother held up the necklace. “Very nice.”
Dupree was disappointed. “You don’t like it?”
She smiled. “I was teasing you. It’s a splendid gift.” She held out her arms. “Come here.”
He rushed across the room and sat down beside her. She enfolded him in a close embrace and rocked him gently back and forth. Raoul closed his eyes and let the sweet relief pour through him. She was pleased with him.Thiswas what he had been waiting for through the long months away from her. It was unbearable not to be sure he was doing what she wished him to do. Sometimes the uncertainty had grown into a terrible fever and he had wanted to rush back to her and beg her to give him assurance.
Her hands stroked his hair and her voice was soft as she placed her pouty lips close to his ear. “Have you missed me?”
His arms tightened about her stout body. She knew he was never complete without her but she always made him say the words. “Yes.”
“And you haven’t been doing naughty things with any of those wicked women?”
“No,” he lied. Mother must never know about Camille. She did not mind the anonymous rapine of the women of the abbey but would instantly condemn his relationship with Camille. “You know I always obey you, Mother.”
“And hasn’t it served you well? You’re in the company of great men and soon it will be time for you to take their place.”
He nodded contentedly, knowing he need not respond. She had been saying those words as long as he could remember. She was sure even when he was a small child he was going to be a great man and had carefully taught him what he must do. The lessons had been harsh and sometimes he hadn’t understood, but she had alternated punishment and reward until he had finally come to the realization of what was required of him. He must become a rich and powerful man and make his mother the queen she deserved to be. She did not belong in this small village, married to the ignorant merchant who had fathered him. It was his duty to free her from this bourgeois prison. His father was dead now but Raoul’s duty was still not done.
She pushed him away and looked down at the necklace again. “Is there a picture in the locket?”
“Locket?”
She gave him an impatient glance. “Of course it’s a locket.” Her nails pried at the golden circlet “Don’t be stupid.”
The locket opened with a snap and his mother regarded the picture critically. “Quite lovely. Was this the princess?”
Raoul took the locket and looked down at the miniature of the girl he had seen for a fleeting moment in the bell tower. He slowly straightened. “Yes, that’s her.” It was an excellent likeness and could be useful. He could ride back to Paris and give it to an artist to reproduce a sketch to hang outside the Hôtel de Ville. He absently stroked the jagged scar that had formed on his throat from that black-haired bitch’s teeth. The two girls had been together, and if he found the girl in the locket, there was every chance he could force her to tell him where to find Citizeness Justice. “Could I have it back for—” He had said it clumsily and could feel her stiffen with displeasure. He hurried on desperately. “Only for a little while. I’ll give you—”
“Certainly, Raoul.” His mother stood up. “Of courseyou may have it back. You wish to give it to someone else? Someone you value more than you do me?” She smiled brilliantly. “Perhaps you’d better leave now, Raoul. I believe I shall be exceedingly busy this week.”
“No, it was only a thought.” He jumped to his feet, panic racing through him. He could feel the darkness closing around him, the horrid crawling, the black bile coating his tongue. “Forgive me. You know how I was looking forward to spending this time with you. I’ll not be able to see you again until I return from Spain. Don’t send me away.”
She stared at him coldly. “You will beg my pardon for your insolence.”
“I do, I do.” He thrust the locket back into her hand and closed her fingers around it. He would wait until he had returned from his mission to try to persuade her to temporarily relinquish the locket. Maybe she would have grown tired of it by then.
“It’s not enough.”
He immediately dropped to his knees and buried his face in the skirt of her brocade gown. The material was smooth against his flesh and smelled of frangipani and the cedar lining of her armoire. “I do beg your pardon. It was very wicked of me. I’m not worthy to be your son.” He waited. Sometimes the humiliation must be deeper before she rewarded him with her forgiveness. He kissed her hand. “Please,ma mère. I’m truly repentant.”
She must not have been too upset with him. She was stroking his hair with a loving hand. “Then you must strive harder to be worthy.”
“I will, Mother. May I stand?”
