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“Below it is a small drop, then a ledge. A drainpipe runs to the ground from there. It looks reasonably sturdy. We jump to the ledge and then climb down the pipe.”
He had hit his head when he’d jumped from the carriage. That was the only explanation. “And if we fall or the pipe breaks?”
“The drop isn’t so bad,” he said with a smile and a shrug.
He had definitely hit his head. “And you know this because you have jumped from windows before.”
“Exactly.” He crouched beside her. “Once I had to jump from the salon of the Duchesse du Beauvier.”
“Why?”
“Her husband had forbidden me to attend.”
She wrapped her arms around her knees. “Because of your politics?”
“Because he caught me in bed with his wife the week before.”
“You are a rake,” she said with contemptuous shake of her head.
“I beg to differ.” He leaned back, resting an elbow on the roof as though they were having a picnic in the country and this was a green field of flowers. “I have traveled to England, and I know of these rakes you speak of. I am no such thing.”
“And how are you different?” This was not at all the sort of conversation she wanted to have with him, but it was better than thinking about the long drop to the ground.
“A rake will seduce any woman, regardless of whether or not she is an innocent or whether she wants to be seduced. I assure you the Duchesse du Beauvier wanted to be seduced and she was no innocent.” He looked off into the distance, toward the Conciergerie. “Marie Antoinette knew I was no rake. She never had a moment’s concern when I was with Marie-Thérèse. She knew she could trust me implicitly. I would never have touched Madame Royale in any way other than that of a brother. I would never touch any woman who does not want to be touched.”
“Of course, that is what you would say.” The wind blew hard against her back, and she clutched her knees tighter. “Rakes always use sweet words to accomplish their aims.”
He didn’t speak for a long moment and then he sat, aligning his body with hers. “It was a rake, wasn’t it?”
She glanced at him, then back down. “I don’t understand.”
“A rake seduced you and broke your heart.”
He was not far from the truth. “My heart is not broken, and there was no rake.”
“Someone has made you guard your heart.”
She looked up at him, forgetting to be afraid of their height. “I am not so easily seduced. In that way I keep guard.”
“I would never imply you were easy to seduce. I only meant that you are careful to hide your beauty. Do you wear drab dresses and pull your hair back severely in England or is that part of your disguise in Paris?”
“I want to be taken seriously,” she said. “My work is important, and I find that men do not hear what I say when all they see is a pretty face.”
“Your work? What is your work?”
Honoria did not know if she should confide in him, trust in him. As it was, she did not have the chance. The window below them swung open and a guard looked out. The marquis put a finger to his lips, and neither he nor Honoria moved. All that was visible of the guard was the edge of his hat.
Then his head disappeared. “I don’t see them. Send a man out there to make sure they aren’t hiding on the roof.”
“Oh, my God.” It was part prayer and part desperate plea.
“This way.” The marquis pulled her up, and Honoria’s head spun. She clutched his arm tightly, afraid she would fall. A ridiculous fear considering she was about to jump.
He held on to her arms. “Look at me, Honoria.”
She shook her head. “I can’t. Everything is moving.”
His hands on her upper arms tightened. “Take a deep breath and look at me.”
