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He put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “I should go to Marie. All the noise will have frightened her.”
Angelette gave him a weak smile. “Yes, go to her. I will have another glass of wine and wait here for Daventry to return.”
“Shall I have the chef send you a meal?”
Angelette knew she would not eat it, but she agreed. The vicomte de Merville did not need to worry about her on top of his other concerns. When he was gone, she poured another glass of wine and then another. When she went back to the window, her head spun slightly from the drink, but it was better than reeling from fear.
The street was darker now. No one had lit the streetlamps and the shadows were long and growing. A few people had emerged from their homes, but they scurried quickly in and out of the patches of light. None walked quickly and confidently, head held high, like Hugh. She gripped the windowsill until her hands were white. She knew this feeling, the wave of helplessness crashing over her. She’d felt it just a couple years before when Georges had become ill. She’d been able to do nothing to save him, and she could do nothing to save Hugh. She must wait and pray and hope for the best.
But all the praying and waiting and hoping had not saved Georges, and she did not think it would save Hugh either. Passivity had not gained her anything. Perhaps it was time to take a more active part in her life and the future of this, her adopted country. If Hugh had not yet returned, then she would go out and look for him. Angelette crossed to the fireplace and took the poker in her hand, brandishing it with a flourish. She’d watched men fencing for many hours and knew some of the methods and techniques. She’d seen women in the crowds of Parisian citizens. If they could fight, so could she.
Poker in hand, Angelette left the drawing room and started down the steps. Her fear did not dissipate, but it felt less all-encompassing. She felt far more powerful and more in control of her destiny. In the foyer, she paused to take a deep breath. She could still change her mind, still return to the drawing room or go to her bedchamber. Instead, she straightened her shoulders and went to the door.
Then she jumped when someone pounded on it. Angelette managed not to scream, but it was a near thing. What if she had opened the door a moment before? Would she have come face-to-face with a mob demanding her head?
“Open the door,” a man said softly. “It’s Daventry.”
Angelette dropped her poker, unlocked the door, and threw it open. She propelled herself into Hugh’s arms, almost sending him toppling over backward. She didn’t notice. She didn’t care about anything except that he was alive and safe andhere. “Where have you been? Are you hurt? What took so long?” she demanded. And then before he could answer, she kissed him with all the passion and relief she felt in that moment.
She was vaguely aware that he carried her inside and closed and locked the door behind them. He kissed her back, finally separating from her when she was forced to breathe.
“I hope I can expect this sort of welcome every time we’re apart.”
She scowled. “Do not jest, Hugh. I thought you had been taken.”
He gestured to the poker on the floor. “And you were coming to rescue me with that?”
“I was frightened. The Bastille has fallen and a crowd marched by with the dead governor.”
His expression grew more serious. “I know. I saw them, and I learned they murdered some of the soldiers at the Bastille, though thevainqueurssuffered heavier casualties. Nonetheless, they have gone to the Palais-Royal to celebrate their victory.”
“Perhaps they will stay there and leave us in peace.”
“We are safe tonight.” He pulled her back into his arms. “Apparently, you’ve been celebrating on your own.” He kissed her. “You taste of wine.”
“I needed courage and something to calm my nerves.”
“I admire your courage. I should have used more caution and stayed here. The streets are dangerous.”
“You’re safe now.” She buried her face in his chest, inhaling deeply of his scent. “Will you stay with me?”
He kissed her. “As long as you want me.”
“I want you tonight.”
Hugh lifted her and carried her up the stairs. “I’m yours.”
