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Ramsey started back toward Gabrielle. “In more ways than you can know, citoyen.” He took Gabrielle’s arm and ushered her away from the river as Lord Antony climbed aboard the small boat and began to row.
She shook his hand off her arm and frowned at him. “What was that all about?”
“It seems Sir Andrew has to leave Paris immediately. I’ll have to see you safely out of the city.”
“Wait a moment.” She whipped to face him, the imposing towers of Notre Dame at her back. “Three things.” She held up her hand and ticked off her fingers. “One, this is my mission, not yours. Two why would Lord Antony tell you about Ffoulkes and not me? Three why was Lord Antony so…distraught?”
Ramsey swallowed, his throat still aching from where Dewhurst had squeezed. “He seemed perfectly composed to me.”
“Is that why he almost pummeled you?”
“I don’t think so.” Ramsey was indignant now. “I could have taken him easily.”
“Why didn’t Lord Antony tellmeabout Sir Andrew?”
Ramsey clenched his jaw. What was one more lie between them now? “I couldn’t say.”
“Oh, yes you could. And—“
“And we’re attracting attention.” He took her arm again, steered her away from Notre Dame. “We have a plan to make if we’re to leave Paris. Let’s see if Alex can help with logistics.”
She went along with him, probably because she was no idiot and could see they were indeed attracting attention, but as they walked, she grumbled. Finally, they reached the house, and after searching it for Alex and finding her out, retired to their small room.
Gabrielle removed her hat and set it on the table. She rolled her neck, then gave him a look of blue steel. “I don’t trust you. Who was that woman in the Palais-Royal? What did you and Lord Antony discuss? Why did you lie to me about your business in Paris? There’s no solicitor you must meet, is there, Sedgwick?”
He shrugged, trying to appear unconcerned. “I assure you that business with Lord Antony was nothing. As for the woman in the Palais-Royal, a man has to have some secrets.”
“Secrets, yes. I understand secrets, though I seem to have told you all of mine. But there’s something more you’re hiding. What about your business in Paris?”
“Are you the Inquisition now?” he asked, trying to sound flippant.
Her look sharpened. “You are defensive. Tell me the truth, Ramsey, are you planning to betray me?”
He was beside her in two strides and took hold of her arms. “Say anything about me that you like, but don’t accuse me of being a traitor. I’d never betray you.”
She blinked up at him, and he could see the doubt in her eyes. And why shouldn’t she doubt? Until this moment, he’d been ready to betray her darling Pimpernel, if need be. Wasn’t that betraying her as well?
But he would never allow any harm to come to her. He’d go to the guillotine long before he’d allow her to suffer a moment’s discomfort. And perhaps that was the best idea he’d had yet. If he went to the guillotine, he’d die a hero, the Pimpernel would survive, and his family would be safe in Cumbria, provided for through his will.
Ramsey almost laughed. Everyone would be better off were he dead.
But then he looked down at Gabrielle. She needed him to escape Paris, and he wasn’t about to allow her to traipse off with the impulsive Alexandra Martin. He didn’t care whose League the actress belonged to. He had vowed to protect Gabrielle and see her safely out of Paris. Once he did that, then he’d decide what to do about the Pimpernel and his own less-than-enviable situation.
Being that he was no hero, he knew exactly what he’d do. He began to turn away, but Gabrielle pulled him back.
“Wait. What were you thinking now? I saw something, somethingrealin your eyes.”
“I want you safely out of Paris.”
“And after that?”
“That’s my secret.”
“Will I ever see you again?”
“Why would you want to?” Damn the flicker of hope that sparked inside him.
She tossed her head. “I don’t.”
