Page 64 of Souvenir Heart

Marcus frowned. If so, why hadn’t the bastard come forward at the trial or visited her in prison?

Surely, after everything she’d been through, she wouldn’t put her trust in such as he?

Marcus shook his head. If she hadn’t run to her lover, she probably also hadn’t run back to her apartments in the Marais. She had to know they wouldn’t be safe.

He turned in the direction of the prosecutor’s apartments, gambling that she’d start off by keeping up the pretense of obeying his orders. He knew the address—it was his business to know such things—even without Fouquier-Tinville’s instructions.

He walked quickly, scanning the dark windows of shuttered shops, the stoops, and mouths of alleys.

No sign of Marguerite.

But he did spot David, seated on the box of the coach, driving the team slowly down the street.

Plucking a red handkerchief from his coat pocket, he made a show of wiping his brow with it.

David nodded, registering the signal and steered the team to a spot just ahead of Marcus. Drawing to a halt, he swung down from the box and, began walking alongside the horses, as if checking for a problem with the straps of the harness.

Marcus stepped up beside him. “Is there a problem citizen? Perhaps I can help.”

A window shade in the carriage rose, not enough for passersby to see in, but enough for Andre to join their conversation.

“Where is she?” David’s voice was low, but full of the same urgency Marcus was struggling to contain. “Why are you alone? Did something go wrong?”

“She’s out. But she managed it on her own. And I don’t know where she is now.”

“She escaped,” David said in amazement, “and you lost her?”

“I didn’t lose her,” Marcus asserted, his face flushing. “I’m just not entirely certain where she’s gone.”

“Sounds like the definition of lost,” Andre’s voice floated down from the coach window.

David turned to look at Marcus, his brows raised almost to the brim of his red liberty cap.

“I’m fairly certain that she’s headed in this direction and that she’ll be walking slowly…” he said, defensively.

“Do you want to ride with us, or do you want us to follow?”

“It’ll be faster if I ride with you. I’ll get out the moment I catch sight of her.”

The door swung open and a curious rope and wood device dropped down. It looked much like a stirrup.

“My latest invention for quick entries,” David said, “Just put your foot in it.”

Andre leaned out of the carriage, one hand extended. “Come on.”

Marcus grabbed his hand, ignoring the sting of his sliced palm, put his foot in the stirrup and swung easily inside. He hesitated before closing the door. “Head that way, towards Fouquier-Tinville’s apartments,” he instructed David. “Andre and I will keep watch on both sides of the street, but if you catch sight of her, knock three times on the roof and slow down.”

“What happened?” Andre demanded, even before Marcus was seated and the coach began to roll forward.

Adjusting the canvas shade covering the window so he could get a better view of the street, Marcus explained about the delay with Laurent and Fouquier-Tinville’s discovery of Marguerite dressed as a soldier in her cell.

“And she kept her wits about her the whole time.” Andre whistled, eyes fixed on the street from his side of the coach. “Remarkable. Any one of my hen-witted sisters would have swooned on the spot.”

Marcus had met all five of Andre’s sisters and suspected he was exaggerating about at least three of them. “She came up with a fake name and an excuse for being in the cell without a moment’s hesitation.”

“Perhaps we ought to recruit her.”

“We’ll have to find her first.” Marcus scowled out the window. “Why are there so many people out on the street at this hour? Don’t they have anything better to do?”