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“And just where do you think you’re going?” Cressy demanded, hands on hips.
“Paris.”
Cressy gaped, and Diana’s brows shot up. “I think you must have hit your head harder than we thought,” Diana observed.
“I’ll be in no more danger in Paris than I am here,” Gabrielle said, pushing herself off the mountain of pillows.
“Then one of Lord McCullough’s creditors is responsible for this?” Diana asked.
“Mr. Pin’s man,” Gabrielle answered. The silence in the room echoed. “I told you Paris wasn’t such a bad idea,” Gabrielle said, swishing the covers aside and dangling her feet over the edge of the bed. A wave of nausea hit her, and she pretended to study her bare toes while it passed.
“What is this sudden interest in Paris?” Diana asked.
“And when did you have a run-in with Mr. Pin?” Cressy demanded.
“First I need to know what happened at Sedgwick’s residence,” Gabrielle said. “Did you find the necklace?”
Diana shook her head. “His butler is intractable. We couldn’t get in.”
“Claims Sedgwick doesn’t have a mistress,” Cressy said with a huff. “Shows what he knows.”
“That decides the matter then,” Gabrielle said, forcing herself to her feet and gripping the mattress to steady herself.
Cressy huffed and put an arm about her. “You won’t even make it to the drawing room, much less Paris.” She wrapped Gabrielle’s dressing gown about her and supported her until Gabrielle nodded that she felt steady again.
“Why the sudden interest in Paris?” Diana asked again.
Gabrielle debated for a moment; her friend would never let it go. She might as well tell them. What was the harm? She began with the events of the ball—pleased with Diana’s restraint when she only uttered two or three oaths at the mentions of Marsan and Lady Blakeney—then went on to describe her meeting with the Scarlet Pimpernel. She ended with the confrontation with Mr. Pin’s henchman.
When she finished, Cressy shook her head in anger, but Diana had a determined look. “You don’t have to run to Paris to escape this Mr. Pin. You can come to my father’s country estate. Pin won’t find you there.”
It was a tempting offer. The Exeter country estate was lavish and beautiful. She wouldn’t mind escaping there. But how long would it be before George’s creditors found her? And when she returned, they’d still be waiting.
Of course, they’d be waiting when she returned from Paris as well, but if she could steal le Saphir Blanc, perhaps she could steal another precious object she might sell back home to pay the men off. If nothing else, her brief sojourn would give Mr. Pin’s thugs the opportunity to pursue another poor debtor. It would take a little of the heat off her.
Gabrielle stood before her clothespress, examining dresses. What did one wear to revolutionary Paris? “I will not put you or your family in danger, Diana,” Gabrielle said, pulling out a silk gown and discarding it. Where was her muslin? Weren’t they wearing red, white, and blue in Paris these days?
And there was another reason to go to Paris. “Running away to the country won’t help the comtesse de Tonnerre or her daughter.”
“And you really think you can steal this bracelet?” Cressy asked.
“I don’t know,” Gabrielle admitted. “But I feel I should try.”
“And what of this supposed Scarlet Pimpernel?” Diana asked. “How can you be certain this man speaks the truth? Perhaps he’s an imposter meant to lure you into danger. I don’t believe in the Scarlet Pimpernel.”
Gabrielle pulled out a worn shawl. “But what reason would anyone have for luring me to Paris?”
“Perhaps the story of going to Paris is nothing but a lie. Perhaps the man works for one of McCullough’s creditors and seeks to isolate you and steal you away.”
Cressy was gathering Gabrielle’s discarded gowns, but she paused now and gave Gabrielle a hard look. “She has a point. This might be an elaborate ruse. The man knew of your talents. Perhaps he intends to exploit them for his own profit. You have no way of ensuring he is the Scarlet Pimpernel or that his story about the comtesse de Tonnerre is true.”
Weary, Gabrielle sat on the bed. “So both of you agree I shouldn’t go to Paris?”
“I think it a very dangerous proposition. Perhaps I could ask vicomte Marsan to look into the story of this comtesse de Tonnerre.”
Gabrielle raised a brow at Diana. “A few moments ago, you called the vicomte a slithering snake.”
“Perhaps he can redeem himself through this small act…and a dozen or so more.” She crossed her arms and mumbled, “Dancing with that tart Lady Emily!”
