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But she could do that another time. Ffoulkes seemed to think Chevalier had changed loyalties. She would soon know for herself. She heard the clip-clop of hooves long before the carriage stopped in front of the building. With the curfew in effect, the sounds from outside were almost nonexistent, and the noise of a horse at this hour meant either the guard or a government official.
Alex retreated to his bedchamber, not wanting to be seen if he was not alone. The room had a small window she could probably squeeze through if necessary, but she hoped Chevalier had returned home alone.
She heard boots on the stairs, then the sound of the key in the lock. The door creaked open and closed again. Alex risked a quick peek into the main chamber. Chevalier pulled out a chair at the table and sat heavily. He was alone, and he looked—utterly defeated.
“You didn’t like what you saw at the Temple, did you?” Alex stepped into the light.
Chevalier shot up, knocking the chair over. “You!” His hand went to his chest as though to still the pounding there.
“Were you expecting someone else?”
He stared at her. “How did you get in here? The door was locked.”
She waved a hand, entered the room, and righted the chair. He backed away from her, keeping her at a distance as one might a leper.
“That lock is useless,” she said, pushing the chair under the table. “A child could pick it. However, I didn’t need to touch it. Instead, I used the open window.”
“The...” He looked from the window to her. “We’re on the first floor!”
“Which is why I appreciate you leaving the window open. Now, tell me about the Temple. How is the king?”
“Don’t call him that.”
She rolled her eyes. “Please tell me you are not about to spout that revolutionary rhetoric again. All men are created equal and so on. Explain to me how locking a child up in a prison is treating him equally.”
“You shouldn’t be here. It’s not safe.”
“Are you expecting a guest?”
“No, but—”
“Then stop trying to be rid of me. Tell me about the Temple. Did you get in? Did you see Louis Charles?”
Chevalier removed his hat and ran a hand through his hair, managing to loose one section from the queue. He looked quite disheveled in his wrinkled coat, his drooping neckcloth, and his untidy hair.
She thought disarray suited him.
“I’m not even going to ask how you know I was at the Temple.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I wouldn’t have told you anyway. But I know you applied for a pass to see Louis Charles. Did you see him?”
“I don’t want to discuss it with you. It’s official business.” He paced away from her.
“Is that your way of saying you betrayed us?”
He rounded on her. “Betrayed you? I’m not one of you! How could I betray you?”
She closed the distance between them. “You are one of us whether you want to be or not. Did you tell the prison officials about our plans to rescue the king?” She had to stare up at him, but she gave him her most intimidating stare.
“Why do you never ask about the little girl? Marie-Thérèse?”
She only blinked. That was information she could not risk giving him, even if she’d wanted to.
Finally, as the silence lengthened, he shook his head and blew out a breath. “You really are the most obstinate woman.”
“Thank you. Now answer my question.”
“I did not reveal your plan. I should have.”
