“Monsieur Andreas.” Etchelet bowed, his gaze wary. “The circumstances were such that I could do nothing else.”
“And I am sure he would have made every effort to avoid his involvement,” Juliette said sweetly, “I suppose we should be grateful he saw fit not to send us back to his friend, the butcher.”
“I’m sure Mademoiselle de Clement means no offense.” Philippe stepped forward protectively. “She’s overcome by the horrors she’s undergone.”
Juliette bristled. “Overcome? I’m not overcome. I’m tired and angry, but I’m not about to swoon because this man scowls at me.”
François suddenly smiled. “No, I think it would take considerably more to make you swoon.”
“So do I,” Jean Marc said dryly. “Don’t you think it’s time to put differences aside and concentrate on the task at hand? Your words do not help Catherine, Juliette.”
François turned abruptly away, walked over to the window, and stood looking out into the street.
“Philippe says it’s very difficult getting through the checkpoints without proper papers,” Jean Marc said to François’s back. “Can you get them for us?”
“No.”
“Can Danton get them for us?”
“Probably. But he won’t risk it. Not now.”
“Why not?” Juliette asked.
“It’s too dangerous. In addition to the regular guard, Dupree has at least one man of his own at every gate and there’s no telling when or where he will appear to make checks personally. Georges Jacques mustn’t be connected with you or he’ll lose what he’s gained.”
“And what is that?” Jean Marc asked.
“The Girondins. If the assembly loses the Girondins, the extremist radicals like Marat and Robespierre will gain power.”
“I don’t care about these Girondins,” Juliette said. “I want Catherine out of Paris. What do we do?”
“Wait.”
It was easy for him to say, Juliette thought in frustration. “I don’t want to wait.”
François whirled to face her. “Then you shouldn’t have killed one of the Marseilles.”
She stiffened. “They found him?”
“Oh, yes, they found him. They’ve been searching the countryside for his murderess. Georges Jacques says Dupree was highly displeased. He likes everything neat and tidy.”
“I doubt if those words would apply to a massacre.” Juliette nibbled at her lower lip. “Does he know who killed the pig?”
“He doesn’t know your true identity, but he does suspect ‘Citizeness Justice.’”
“No one else?”
François shook his head.
Then Dupree must not have found the locket, she thought with relief. “The sword. Dupree knows I took his sword.” A frown knitted her brow. “But he can’t be sure Catherine was at the tomb. He saw her for only an instant in the bell tower—unless he remembers she wasn’t in the courtyard at the tribunal.”
“Dupree has an excellent memory for detail. He posted a reward for both of you this morning with full descriptions.”
“Citizeness Justice?” Jean Marc asked.
“Mademoiselle de Clement,” François said. “It’s the only name by which Dupree knows her.”
Jean Marc’s gaze shifted with sudden intentness to Juliette. “Why Citizeness Justice?”
