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“You will be contacted at the ball. If you go, exit thebackdoor. Never the front. You cannot know who might be watching.”
“Thank you,” Sedgwick said.
“Don’t thank me yet,” Alex called over her shoulder as she tripped lightly down the stairs. “You’ll probably end up dead before the night is over.”
“Well, that wasn’t very reassuring,” Gabrielle said when the sound of the door closing faded and she stood opposite Sedgwick in the small bedroom.
“I don’t think our Miss Martin intended it to be. Paris is more dangerous than I anticipated.”
Gabrielle privately agreed. She had expected…she didn’t know what she expected. Her own memories of Paris were full of laughter with Diana and her parents amid sunny spring days. This cold, hungry Paris was not one with which she was familiar. Certainly the people must have been hungry before, but she supposed she had never noticed. She felt ashamed of herself now, but not so ashamed that she could overlook the cold-blooded murder she’d witnessed at the West Gate. Not so ashamed she could condone the killing of King Louis. If any country had a more benign monarch, it was France. Poor Louis.
Gabrielle feared the queen would certainly follow.
Sedgwick moved into the bedroom and set his pack on the small bed. His actions reminded her Paris was dangerous for other reasons as well. How would she spend the night with Sedgwick in this small room? She was no virgin in need of a chaperone, but if any man ever tempted her to stray into sin, it was Sedgwick. She’d nearly begged him to make love to her in her cabin on theFugitive. Something happened when he kissed her—something she didn’t understand and couldn’t control.
Something she did not have the luxury of exploring now, when she was surrounded by danger on all sides and would surely encounter more when she attempted to steal le Saphir Blanc.
Not to mention, she’d had enough of men and the trouble they caused. Hadn’t George made her miserable both when she was married and when she was his widow? She’d trusted him, didn’t ask the questions that plagued her, and look where she had ended up.
Hadn’t Sedgwick said she couldn’t trust him?
So perhaps she wouldn’t mention the Scarlet Pimpernel. She’d simply tell him she wanted le Saphir Blanc to satisfy George’s creditors. Except Sedgwick was no fool. He’d realize something was amiss when she traded it for the comtesse…
“What are you thinking about?” Sedgwick asked, startling her out of her reverie. She blinked and focused, noted he’d taken a seat on the bed.
“I…Nothing.” She gestured to the room. “This poses something of a problem.”
“Does it?” He arched a brow in that way she liked far too much. “I think it is the perfect arrangement.”
“I wonder if you will still think so after a night sleeping on the floor.”
“Gabrielle—“
“It’s Citoyenne Leboeuf.”
“Gabrielle,you don’t really want me to sleep on the floor.”
“Perhaps there’s a couch in the drawing room you might utilize.”
He stood, and she backed up when she saw his intention to approach her. There was a wall behind her, and she could go no further. He stopped as well, giving her room. “Why don’t you simply admit you’re attracted to me? I’m attracted to you. I want you in my bed, naked and warm…”
“That will not happen,” she said, but already her heart pounded and her pulse thumped wildly. Just hearing him speak so frankly had a dizzying effect on her. George had never spoken thus. He’d always been the perfect gentleman.
The perfect,boringgentleman.
Sedgwick was anything but boring.
“Why deny yourself?” he asked. She watched in fascination as his hand reached for her. He caught a strand of her hair and pushed it behind her ear. “If you’re worried about conception, I know precautions.”
Gabrielle opened her mouth in shock, then shut it again. She hadn’t been thinking about pregnancy, and she certainly hadn’t expected him to mention it. But she forgot that she was a widow now. Men were much more forward when trying to seduce her. For months she’d been far too focused on stealing enough antiquities to satisfy George’s creditors to allow any man to get close enough to woo her. Now she had a taste of what the experience would be like.
“Listen, Sedgwick—“
“Citoyen Delpierre.” He grinned.
“Of course. I am here on business. I don’t want to complicate matters with…entanglements.”
His finger stroked her cheek, and she allowed it. Why was she allowing it?
