“Juliette…”
Her lids slowly opened and she made a sound behind the gag.
Dizzying relief poured through Jean Marc. He lifted Juliette out of the armoire onto the floor and quickly jerked the gag down from her mouth. “For God’s sake, she can’t breathe, youcanaille.”
Dupree leaned back in the chair. “You may leave the gag off for a while if you like.”
Jean Marc’s hands trembled as he gently smoothed Juliette’s hair back from her face. “Did he hurt you?”
“My head…” Juliette’s voice shook. “He surprised me. We didn’t expect this, did we?”
“No.” Jean Marc glared over his shoulder at Dupree. “You have me and you have the Wind Dancer. Now let her go.”
“Oh, I couldn’t do that,” Dupree said. “Not after I spent so much time planning the events of the day. Did you really think I’d let her go free to get in my way this afternoon?”
Jean Marc’s gaze shifted back to Juliette’s face. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Of course you do. The queen’s whelp. You were going to try to take him from the Temple at six o’clock this evening. I shall arrive at the Simons’ quarters at five o’clock instead. Actually, you had quite an interesting plan, but I’ve improved on it. Shall I tell you how?”
Jean Marc didn’t answer.
“The armed guard to take the boy out of the Temple would never have worked. They would certainly have been challenged. I’ve arranged to have the boy taken out in a laundry cart driven by myself and I’ve made sure my old friend Pirard is at the gate to pass it through. Instead of the writ stating simply that the boy be removed from the Temple, I’ve substituted one that says the boy be drugged and given into my custody.” He shook his head disapprovingly. “That’s another fault with your plan. Citizeness Simon is a stubborn womanand would have balked at giving Etchelet the child. But she’s always had a healthy fear of me and I expect no such problem. I shall even instruct her to give the boy the drink herself.”
“What drink?” Juliette asked.
“Why, one very similar to this.” He plucked a napkin off a goblet on the table beside him. “The one I’ve prepared especially for you, Andreas.”
“You can’t make him drink that,” Juliette said hoarsely.
“I believe I can.” Dupree struggled to his feet. Picking up the goblet in one hand and carrying the pistol in the other, he limped across the room toward them. “My mother was wrong. It seems Andreas is a man of sentiment. Of course I couldn’t be sure until he actually brought the Wind Dancer to ransom your life.”
He knelt beside them, carefully extending his bad leg to one side, and held out the goblet to Jean Marc. “Drink it.” He pressed the barrel of the pistol to Juliette’s head. “Or I’ll shoot and splatter her brains from here to kingdom come.”
Juliette inhaled sharply. “Don’t do it, Jean Marc. He’ll kill me anyway.”
“But not right away,” Dupree said. “I have a plan to school you in the same stimulating way I did your mother, the marquise.”
“Then kill me now.”
Dupree shook his head. “Think about it, Andreas. There are always possibilities. While she’s alive, she has a chance of being rescued. Etchelet might be able to save her from me. Or the potion I put in the goblet may be a drug and not a poison.” He smiled. “Of course, the chances of both are slim.”
“Don’t drink it.” Juliette pleaded, her gaze clinging to Jean Marc’s. “Please don’t drink it.”
“I have to drink it.” Jean Marc took the goblet and smiled into her eyes. “You see, the bastard’s right. I am a man of sentiment when it comes to you,ma petite.”
“No,” she whispered.
“It will all come to the same thing. If I don’t drink it, he’ll shoot me.” He lifted the goblet. “And this will give you a chance.”
“I don’t want a chance. Not if it means—Don’t!”
He paused with the goblet at his lips and smiled lovingly at her. “It’s all right, Juliette. It’s only for a little while. Remember? Everything leads me to you. Even this.”
He drained the goblet.
“Jean Marc!”
His face contorted with agony and the goblet fell from his hand. Both hands clutched his throat. He tried to speak, but only a ghastly croak emerged. He slumped sidewise to the floor.
