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“We’re here for the comtesse de Tonnerre and her daughter,” Gabrielle said.
The warden’s eyes widened. His gaze darted to the closed door, and he cleared his throat. “You mean, you wish to see her.”
“No.” Gabrielle shook her head. “We have come to collect her. I have the payment you requested.”
“You’re fromhim,” the warden whispered.
“I don’t know who you mean,” Gabrielle lied. “The comte de Tonnerre came to see me in London—“
“You’re English? You don’t sound—“
“I went to school in France for many years, but yes, I am English. As I was saying, the comte asked me to free his wife and daughter. I am here to collect her.”
The warden was still staring at her. “You take a huge risk coming here.”
“We don’t intend to linger. The comtesse? Can you have her and the child brought here?”
The warden crossed his arms. “You say you have the payment I requested, but that is impossible. I requested—“
“Le Sapir Blanc.Oui.I have it.”
“With you?” the warden’s eyes were huge and he jumped out of his chair. “Now?”
“First the comtesse, then the bracelet.”
The warden shook his head. “I don’t believe you.”
“If, when you bring me the comtesse,I cannot produce the piece, then you have lost nothing. But if I do give you the bracelet, then the comtesse, the child, Citoyen Delpierre, and I will walk through the prison doors unmolested. Do you have the power to arrange that?”
“There is another exit.” He was rubbing his hands together now. “It’s not guarded and only I have the key.”
“Good. Bring me the comtesse.”
The warden did not move. He stood and studied her. Gabrielle swallowed and kept her gaze level on his. This was it. If she wavered now, if she was anything less than authoritative, all would fall apart.
Slowly, the warden walked to the door. He opened it and spoke softly to a guard outside. “She will be here in a moment.”
The three of them stood in silence, only the sounds of the guards’ voices and the creak of carriages passing outside.
“The tumbrels have arrived,” the warden said.
Gabrielle’s breath hitched. They had so little time.
“They will take the condemned to the Conciergerie for their last night.”
A brisk knock sounded, and the door opened. An emaciated woman dressed in a shabby peach dress and a once-white fichu entered carrying an owlish child. The little girl’s hair was matted, and her brown eyes were huge in her thin face, which was pale but clean. Gabrielle judged her to be almost a year old, but she wore clothing for a child much younger. She clung to her mother’s neck and buried her head against her mother’s shoulder after taking a quick look at her new surroundings.
Gabrielle had the urge to hug the child fiercely and tell her all would be well. She thought of herself as a child. She’d never wanted for anything, never had more than a moment’s fright, and then only because of a nightmare that was easily soothed away. But this child had seen more than her share of waking nightmares. Would she ever lose the haunted look in her eyes?
Gabrielle noticed that Ramsey had pushed away from the wall. His hands were clenched in anger. She understood the anger he felt and the impulse to act, to save. Not now, she thought. Now was the most crucial moment.
“Comtesse, I—“
“Call hercitoyenne,” the warden interrupted as the guard closed the door.
Gabrielle nodded. “Citoyenne Tonnerre, my name is Gabrielle, and I’ve come from London, from your husband.”
The comtesse swayed with this news. “From Jean-Paul? Is he well?”
