“And then you put the roaches in with me. I couldn’t have done anything so naughty as to deserve that, could I?”
“No.”
“But don’t worry. After I take you out of the chest, I’ll hold you and stroke you and tell you what you must do to be a good girl and please me.”
Her voice shook with a terror that was no pretense. “Don’t…put me in the armoire.”
“Not now,” he agreed. “One must savor such discipline.” He leaned back in the chair. “You may begin.”
Nana’s voice still trembled as she altered her tone to the high, pleading pitch he preferred. “Promise me we’ll always be together. You’re my own sweet boy, Raoul.…
“The forgery is quite good.” Nana handed Dupree the blank paper with Robespierre’s signature at the bottom of the page. “It was the best of the lot, but I told her they were all only adequate. I slipped this one beneath the fans in my basket when she wasn’t looking.”
Dupree critically scanned the signature. “Very good.She’s really quite gifted. I couldn’t tell the difference myself.”
“Shall I put on the gown?”
“What?” He glanced at her impatiently. “No, I have no time for it tonight. I have to see Pirard and arrange a few matters. You may go.”
Nana looked at him in surprise.
“Go.” Dupree turned away. “I told you, I have some arrangements to make with Pirard.”
“I cannot help?”
“They don’t concern you.” He was limping toward the desk across the room “Come back tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow is the seventeenth of January. We should be preparing for—”
“You dare try to tell me what I should do? Perhaps youshouldput on the gown.”
“No.” She hurried to the door. “I’ll come back tomorrow.”
The hammering assaulted Juliette’s ears as she came down the stairs.
“What’s going on here?” Juliette hurried into the Gold Salon. “Dear heaven! What on earth are you doing, Robert?”
“Packing.”
“So I see.” She looked around the room in bewilderment. All the paintings had been stripped from the walls and several boxes and trunks set around the room.
Robert looked up from the painting he was boxing. “Monsieur Andreas said we must pack all of these for travel.” He went back to his work.
Juliette wandered around the room, looking at the vacant walls. All the Fragonards, Bouchers, even the portrait of the Wind Dancer were gone. “Where is Monsieur Andreas now?” she shouted above the hammering.
“He went to see Monsieur Bardot,” Robert said. “He left directly after breakfast.”
Juliette paused beside a familiar brass-bound oakchest. The Wind Dancer itself. “He had you bring this up from the cellar?”
Robert nodded. “He asked particularly for that chest. Everything of value must be readied to leave. You’re going on a journey, Mademoiselle?”
“I…don’t know.” For an instant she felt panic surge through her. Perhaps Jean Marc was tired of her and sending her away. No, he wouldn’t pack up the entire household just to rid himself of a mistress.
“Make sure you pack all of Mademoiselle’s paintings in her room, Robert.” Jean Marc stood in the doorway of the salon. “And tell Marie she’d better start packing Mademoiselle’s clothing as well.”
Her clothes. No mention of his. The panic came again and Juliette tried desperately to keep it from showing. “We’re going somewhere?”
“Yes.” He turned to Robert. “We’ll be in my study, sorting out the papers in my desk.” He pulled Juliette along by the wrist.
