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“Is that it?” Ramsey asked.
“No.” She was patting the carpet furiously, searching for the fallen ring. Her hand closed on it, and she lifted it back to the light. “I think this is something even more valuable. King Louis’s ring.”
Ramsey leaned close, and she showed him the engraving.
“This should have gone to the queen or the dauphin.”
“I’m sure that’s what the king intended. It would have been some comfort to them, locked in the tower all these months.”
“All of these items look as though they belonged to the royal family, to the king.”
She nodded. “That’s what I was thinking. Strange that Robespierre should be in possession of them, and not the National Convention or the Paris Commune.”
“Strange but telling. The bracelet must be here.”
Those were her thoughts exactly. She replaced the king’s ring, hoping someday one of his children would receive it. She had no hope the queen would survive to take possession of it. Cries for her execution rang in the streets.
“Give me the larger of the two remaining boxes.” He pointed to the open drawer. “I’ll pick this lock and you do the other.”
They worked in silence for what seemed hours. The clock chimed one, but her hand remained steady. Finally, the latch above the lock sprang open. She closed her eyes, resting them for a moment, then said a quick prayer.
Please, please, please.
The box’s lid was made of wood inlaid with ivory. She eased it open and saw a velvet pouch lying against the wooden interior. She lifted it, opened the pouch, and a heavy cuff fell into her palm.
She could feel Ramsey’s gaze on her. She held the bracelet to the light. Blue sapphires gleamed on the cuff, interspersed with the brilliance of diamonds. The cuff itself was gold, the little clasp delicate and fine. Gabrielle turned the cuff toward the light. In the center was a gleaming stone, bright and clear like a diamond.
“Le Saphir Blanc,” she whispered. “We found it.” She angled it toward him. “Do you want to see?”
“This is close enough.”
She glowered at him. “I canhearyou thinking about the curse.”
But he was already closing the desk drawers and setting everything to rights. Gabrielle placed the pouch in her pocket. Did she just imagine its warmth against her skin?
She replaced the box in the desk drawer, closed it, and straightened the already neat desk. Blowing out the lamp, she rose and reached for her skirts, intending to dust them off.
“Breeches are far less trouble, I imagine,” Ramsey said.
“If I could only get used to wearing them.”
“And now we look for a place to hide until morning and the curfew ends.”
“We need to get off this floor. If Robespierre returns tonight and discovers the theft, they will search the building.”
“I’d like to leave the building,” he said.
“Too risky with the patrols about. We should find a closet or an unused room in the cellar.”
He winked at her. “Sounds romantic.”
“It sounds dusty and filled with spiders.”
He took her hand. “But they’ll be our spiders.”
She rolled her eyes. As long as there weren’t any rats. She could abide any type of spider or other creepy-crawly, but she would not share quarters with a rat.
At the door, Ramsey stood and listened. Taking the hairpin she offered, he dealt quickly with the lock. Gabrielle stood to the side to allow him what light the fire offered, but he waved her gesture away. “Sometimes the dark is useful. I see the lock in my head.”
