“Monsieur Philippe said he took the liberty of purchasing a few items of apparel for you and Mademoiselle Catherine.” Robert smiled at Catherine as heset the packages on the padded bench by the window. “Evidently he didn’t approve of my Marie’s gown.”
“But where did he get them? He’s been gone only a few hours.” Juliette opened a package to reveal a silk gown in a vibrant shade of cinnamon. Intricate gold embroidery bordered a low neck and delicate lace frothed at the hems of three-quarter-length sleeves. The gown was as fine as any she had seen at Versailles, and she knew very well how many hours of work had gone into the embroidery. Rose Bertin, the queen’s favorite dressmaker, would have demanded many fortnights to produce such a gown. “This must have been meant for another client. I’d like to know how he managed to find a dressmaker obliging enough to offend another customer to sell him such a gown.”
“Oh, the ladies have always been most obliging for Monsieur Philippe. Shall I tell the gentlemen you’ll join them as soon as you’ve changed?”
“No.” Juliette turned and moved toward the door. “I’m decently covered. Your wife’s gown will do very well for me.”
Robert nodded. “I thought as much. I informed Monsieur Andreas you’d be down immediately.”
Juliette stopped and looked suspiciously at him over her shoulder. It could be dangerous to have a servant so perceptive. “How clever of you.”
Robert smiled gently. “You don’t have to be afraid of me, Mademoiselle Juliette. I would never tell anyone you were from the abbey.”
Juliette’s gaze narrowed on his face. “And what do you know of what happened at the abbey?”
“Only what I hear in the market.”
“And what is that?”
“I think you know. All of Paris is talking of the massacres. Don’t worry, I would never say anything to hurt Mademoiselle Catherine. Nor would I believe such slander against her or the nuns. I have no liking for these pompous men of the assembly who command me to saytuinstead ofvousand call myself Citizen when I’ve always found Monsieur good enough in my sixty years.”
Juliette felt a surge of warmth. “Thank you, Robert.It’s not easy to trust anyone.” She hesitated and then turned to Catherine. “Philippe wishes to see you.”
“No!” Catherine sat bolt upright on the bed, her cheeks flaming, her eyes brimming with tears. “Send him away.”
“Catherine, I admit he’s been—”
“Iwon’tsee him. I don’t ever want to see him again. Don’t bring Philippe here, Juliette. Don’t make me—”
“I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t wish to do.” Juliette cast her an anxious glance as she started for the door. “I’ll be back soon.”
“Don’t bring him back with you. Don’t let him see me. He’ll—” Catherine broke off, the tears running down her cheeks. “Sweet heaven, I’m sorry. I know you hate for me to blubber like a baby, but I can’t seem to stop. Forgive me for being such a burden to you.”
“You’re not a burden and, if you feel like blubbering, do it. You have reason.”
Catherine’s eyes sparkled like sapphires in the rain as she whispered, “Please, don’t make me face him, Juliette.”
“I won’t bring him here.” Juliette swallowed to ease the tightness in her throat before turning to Robert. “Fetch your wife to stay with Mademoiselle Catherine in my stead.”
He nodded. “My Marie was always fond of Mademoiselle Catherine. She’ll take good care ofla petite.”
“Good.” Juliette was already halfway down the corridor. “I want her fed, bathed, and calmed by the time I return.”
“We’ll endeavor to accomplish at least the first two tasks, Mademoiselle.” The faintest shade of dry humor colored Robert’s tone.
No fear, no scurrying to obey. The old man might have more courage than had first been evident, Juliette thought with respect. Courage could be a problem if not accompanied by loyalty, but still she liked dealing with it more than cowardice. She grinned at Robert over her shoulder. “And I’ll take care of all else.”
She straightened her shoulders as she marched down the stairs to face the three men in the salon.
But only François Etchelet and Philippe Andreas were in the Gold Salon, standing in uneasy silence, looking as alien to each other as panther and peacock.
The image intrigued Juliette, and she found herself pausing in the arched doorway before making her presence known. Philippe, radiantly golden and brilliant as a sunset in his crimson silk coat, pearl-gray trousers, and polished black boots. Etchelet dressed in black, anonymous serge, wearing his fierceness like the sleek coat of a great cat so that his clothing appeared totally unimportant. Interesting.
She must have made some sound, for François suddenly whirled. “I should inform you, Mademoiselle, I dislike being sent for as if I were a stable boy bound to do your bidding.” His eyes glittered in the candlelight as he took a step forward. Panther’s eyes, Juliette thought, all black iris and shimmering menace.“IfI decide to help you, it won’t be because you demand it.”
“We needed to speak to you,” Juliette said. “And it wasn’t I who sent Philippe after you. It was Jean Ma—”
“Ah, Monsieur Etchelet.” Jean Marc suddenly materialized beside Juliette and strolled leisurely toward François. “How kind of you to come. I’m Jean Marc Andreas and I wished to give you my heartfelt thanks for your services to my cousin and Mademoiselle de Clement.”
