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Gabrielle changed direction to follow him, and her foot caught. She went down, catching herself with her hands. She drew in a quick breath as the reason for her tumble became evident. She’d tripped over part of a skeleton, and now she hovered over its skull. From one dark eye socket, a small furry head poked out.
Gabrielle would have screamed if Ramsey hadn’t pulled her up and covered her mouth.
“I have you,” he said, pulling her tightly against him and speaking softly into her ear. “We’re almost safe.”
Safe. Gabrielle wanted to sob the word out. There was no safety in France anymore. Her life had become a race from one nightmare to the next.
“Don’t give up on me, Gabrielle.” Ramsey caught her face in his hands, looked into her eyes. “Don’t ever give up on me!”
She nodded, weary but filled with renewed determination. She hadn’t come to Paris to die, and now Ramsey had pulled her from the grave. She had a second chance at life. She squeezed his hand and nodded.
Hands clasped, they ran the last few yards until they reached the fork. Ramsey turned left pulling her with him into a small alcove that had no outlet. Ramsey looked up, and Gabrielle followed his gaze. It was dark above them, but she thought there might be a sewer opening. There was definitely no ladder.
“There’s no ladder,” she said through gulps of fetid air. “What if this isn’t it?”
“This is it,” he said. “I’ll boost you up. Get out and find this Hastings.”
“But how will you get out?”
“Gabrielle, for once, do not argue.” He cupped a hand and lowered it beside her foot. Blowing out a breath, she moved into the makeshift step reaching up to touch the ceiling.
“There is an opening here.”
His arms came around her legs, raising her higher. She pushed with all her strength and the grate covering the sewer opening moved. Water rained down on her, and she recoiled in disgust. And then she realized it was only rainwater. While they’d been underground, a light rain had begun, the wet sheen of it giving the still sunny skies an eerie quality.
“Can you move it?” Ramsey asked, his voice sounding strained.
“Yes!” She pushed again, expecting the grate to inch farther to the side, but it slid away easily. A strong hand reached down and grasped her arm, yanking her up and out.
“Gabrielle!” Ramsey yelled as she was drawn out of his arms and into the wet street above. She had one last moment to look down at him before she was hauled away.
Chapter 20
Ramsey watched helplessly as Gabrielle was pulled out of his grasp. One moment she was in his arms and the next she was gone. Not again. He couldn’t lose her again. With a yell of anguish and rage, he jumped for the exit, his hand catching the lip of the opening.
He might be the biggest fool who ever walked the earth, risking his hide like this for a woman, but he couldn’t stop himself. He was worse off than he’d thought if he was willing to stick his neck out for Gabrielle. He’d told her he loved her, but it was more than that. He needed her. If she died, he didn’t want to go on. He would have followed her to the guillotine rather than watch her mount the scaffold alone. Alex had told him only an idiot would ride through a bloodthirsty mob and steal a prisoner from a tumbrel, and he’d told her he’d do much more than that.
She’d bribed the cart driver to block the tumbrel’s passageway and paid one of the prison guards to put Gabrielle on the last cart. And though Ramsey had considered it suicide, he’d ridden through the alley and straight for the stalled conveyance. When he’d seen Gabrielle, her beautiful hair shorn, her eyes dark with exhaustion and fear, he knew he’d save her or die trying. Nothing mattered but Gabrielle.
And now he’d lost her again.
With a growl, he swung his other arm up and clawed at the exit to the sewer. Using sheer strength he didn’t know he possessed, Ramsey drew his body up, sliding an elbow onto the street. Before he could shift it forward, a man grabbed his shoulders and hauled him out.
Ramsey looked up from the wet street and into the narrowed eyes of an auburn-haired man. This must be Hastings. “Where’s Alex?” he asked in English.
“She went back to distract the soldiers. She said she’d meet us.”
The man uttered a French oath, then pointed first at Ramsey then at Gabrielle. “Stay here. Do not move.”
Ramsey was relieved to see Gabrielle standing in the shadows of a building that had bowed slightly over time and whose roof blocked out the light from above and sheltered her from the persistent rain.
“You’re leaving?” Ramsey asked.
“I’m not leaving a man behind. Wait for me. You’ll never find the boat or be allowed on board without me.”
Ramsey grunted assent, then watched as the man sprinted off. He replaced the grate on the sewer, then wiped his hands on his trousers. They had to be close to the Seine. He could smell it—the stink of rotting fish and offal and blood.
Eyes on the street and the few windows in the building above, Ramsey crossed to Gabrielle. She took his arm and pulled him into a doorway, which sheltered them even further. If soldiers passed by the alley, they wouldn’t see anyone loitering.
