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‘I’m tall for a woman. As long as I don’t encounter Frau Gruener, who knows me well, it should work. She almost always takes her rest of an afternoon between two and four, by the way. Those watching at the corner, if they notice us at all, will merely see Clara leaving the building, as she went in, with a man. Once we are away from the watchers, I leave it to you—who did so good a job locating me—to manage the rest.’
Intrigued by madame’s unexpected talent for subterfuge, he had to admit that the plan had merit. ‘It might work. As long as you can walk in men’s clothing without it being immediately obvious that you’re a woman.’
She smiled grimly. ‘You might be surprised at my talents. I’m more concerned about you remaining for more than a few hours in this vicinity without attracting attention. You are … rather distinctive.’
‘You don’t think I can pass unnoticed, if I choose?’
‘Your clothing is unremarkable, but you, monsieur, are not.’ She looked him up and down, her gaze coming to rest on his face. ‘Both that golden hair—and your features—are far too striking.’
He couldn’t help feeling a purely male satisfaction that she found him so notable. As he held her gaze, smiling faintly, a surge of sensual energy pulsed between them, as powerful as if she’d actually touched him. From the gasp she uttered and her widened eyes, Will knew she’d felt it, too.
Hell and damn. Bad enough that he’d been immediately attracted to her. If he excited her lust as well …
It would complicate things, certainly. On the other hand, as long as he kept his head, if not his body, focused on his objective, he might be able to use that attraction later. Seducing her to achieve his aims would be much more pleasant for them both than outright coercion.
Filing that possibility away, he forced himself to look away, breaking the connection.
‘I’m a dab hand at disguises myself. I’ll not accompany your friend as her brother, but as her old uncle, who wears spectacles and has something of a limp. The gout, you know.’
Tilting her head, she studied him. ‘Truly, you are Max Ransleigh’s cousin?’
He couldn’t fault her scepticism; no more than she could Will imagine Max sneaking on to a balcony, breaking into a woman’s rooms, threatening her, or disguising himself as an old man.
‘I’m from the wrong side of the blanket, so I come by my disreputable ways honestly.’
‘Ah, I see. Very well, Clara will meet you at three of the afternoon, two days from now at the Lark and Plough, on Dusseldorfer Strasse. She’ll look for a bent old man with spectacles and a cane.’ She offered her hand.
‘Honour among thieves?’ Amused anew, he took her hand to shake it … and a zing of connection flowed immediately through her fingers to his.
Her face colouring, she snatched her hand back. No longer annoyed by the hardening of his loins, Will was beginning to find the possibility of seduction more enticing than regrettable.
‘Three o’clock, then.’ As she nodded and turned to go back into the house, he said, ‘By the way, madame, I will be watching. If any tall young man with a feminine air exits your lodgings in the interim, I will notice.’
She lifted her chin. ‘Why should I try to elude you? I want to return to Paris and you will help me do so. Until then, monsieur.’
Before she could walk away, a woman’s voice emanating from the second floor called out, ‘Madame, where are you?’
‘Get back!’ she whispered, pushing him into the shadows beneath the balcony.
‘That’s Clara, isn’t it? The maid who helped you?’ Will asked in an undertone as footsteps sounded on the balcony overhead.
‘Ah, there you are, in the garden,’ came the voice. ‘Shall I bring your dinner down there?’
‘No, I’ll be right up,’ madame called back.
She pivoted to face Will. ‘As soon as you hear me above, go back over the wall the way you came. I will do as you ask; there’s no need for you to harass Clara.’
‘What makes you think I haven’t already … harassed her?’
Her eyes widened with alarm before she steadied herself, no doubt realising that if he had accosted the maid, she would have probably arrived frightened and frantic, rather than calmly calling her mistress to supper. Still, even now it might be worth following the maid home and seeing if he could dredge out of her any additional information about her mistress.
As if she could read his thoughts, madame said fiercely, ‘If any harm comes to Clara, I will kill you.’
Amused at her audacity in daring to threaten him—this slender woman who must weigh barely more than a child and possessed neither strength nor any weapon—Will grinned. ‘You could try.’
Her gaze hardened. ‘You have no idea what I am capable of, monsieur.’ Showing him her back, she paced into her lodgings, a wisp of lavender scent lingering in her wake.
Chapter Four
Her heart beating hard, feeling as weak as if she’d run a mile through the twisting Vienna streets, Elodie hurried up the stairway to her rooms. Having placed her basket on a table, Clara was looking at the embroidery Elodie had just completed.
‘Ah, madame, this is the prettiest yet! The colour’s lovely, and the bird so vivid, one almost thinks it will fly off the gown.’ Looking up at Elodie, the maid nodded approvingly. ‘You’ve got some colour back in your face. A stroll in the fresh air agreed with you. You must do it more often.’
Elodie wasn’t about to reveal that it wasn’t the garden air that had brought a flush to her cheeks, but an infuriating, dictatorial, dangerous man.
His touch had almost scalded her. It had been many years since she’d sought or experienced such a physical response. The sensation carried her back to the early days of her love for her late husband, when a mere glance from him could set her body afire.
She shook the memory away before sadness could follow in its wake. Given her reaction to him, travelling in Will Ransleigh’s company might be more hazardous to her well-being than she’d first thought. But she could worry about that later; now, she had more immediate matters to address.
‘I’ve brought you a good dinner,’ the maid said as she bustled about, putting plates and silverware on the table and lighting candles. ‘Frau Luvens made meat pie and some of her apple strudel. You will do it justice now, won’t you?’
To her surprise, for the first time in a long time, Elodie found the idea of food appealing. The knowledge that at last, at last, she would be able to stop marking time and get back to Paris, was reviving her vanished appetite. ‘You won’t have to coax me tonight; it sounds delicious. You are joining me, aren’t you? You can tell me all the news.’
While Clara rambled on about her day and her work at the grand hotel where she’d taken employment after her mistress had recovered enough to be left on her own, Elodie edged to the window. Though from this angle, she couldn’t see all the way under the balcony, her surreptitious inspection of the garden indicated that Monsieur Ransleigh had indeed departed.
By now, Clara had the covers off the dishes and was waving her to the small table. ‘Come, eat before the meat pies get cold. Gruber gave me some extra bread from the hotel kitchen. I’m so glad to see your appetite returning! Just in time, as we’ll be able to afford meat more often. Madame Lebruge was so complimentary about your work on the last consignment of embroidery, I told her the next lot would be ten schillings more the piece. She didn’t even protest! I should have asked for twenty.’
Elodie seated herself and waited while the maid attacked her meat pie. ‘I won’t be doing another lot. I’m leaving Vienna.’
Clara’s hands stilled and she looked up, wiping savoury juice from her chin. ‘Leaving? How? I thought you said it would be months before you could save enough to travel.’
‘My plans have changed.’ Omitting any mention of threats or the edgy undercurrent between herself and the man, Elodie told Clara about Will Ransleigh’s visit and offer to escort her to Paris.
She should have known the maid would be suspicious. ‘But can you trust this man, madame? How do you know he truly is Monsieur Max Ransleigh’s cousin?’
‘When you see him, you’ll understand; the resemblance between the two men is striking.’
‘Why would he wish to do you the favour of taking you to Paris?’
‘Because I am to do him a favour in return. I promised I would go to England and testify about how I embroiled his cousin in St Arnaud’s plot.’
‘Gott im Himmel, madame! Is that wise? Is it safe?’
Though she was nearly certain Ransleigh was gone, a well-developed instinct for caution impelled her to lean close and drop her voice to a whisper. ‘I have no intention of actually going to London. Once we get to Paris, I shall elude him.’
Clara clapped her hands. ‘Ah, yes, and I am sure you shall, now that you’ve finally recovered your strength! But … should I not go with you as far as Paris? I do not like the idea of you travelling alone with this man about whom we know so little.’
‘Thank you, dear friend, but you should stay here. Vienna is your home. You’ve already done more for me than I ever expected, more than I can ever repay.’
