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“Do you need my help? With anything?”
“I’m perfectly well.”
His brow arched. “Is that why you were screaming?”
She rolled her eyes. “I can’t let Honoria have all the fun. Tell her to be ready when I return. She’ll need to make a copy of Chevalier’s pass tonight. He must return it in the morning.”
“I’ll tell her. Are you certain you want to go alone?”
“I’ll be with her,” Tristan said, somewhat annoyed that he was being ignored.
“I’ll be fine,” Alex said. “And if I did want help, I wouldn’t ask you to come. If I’m caught with you, I’ll only be in more trouble.”
“Ffoulkes or Dewhurst then? I can ask—”
“I’ll make sure she’s safe,” Tristan interrupted.
Montagne scowled. “You can’t even get yourself home safely.”
Tristan pushed past Alexandra. “I can take care of myself far better than you,aristo.”
“Oh, isn’t this entertaining?” Alexandra said, pushing Tristan back. “As much as I would like to see a bare-knuckle fight between theancien régimeand the revolutionaries, we don’t have time.” She took Tristan’s hand and dragged him back up to the attic. Ffoulkes looked to be asleep on one of the cots, but Dewhurst lay awake and gave them a waggle of brows as they passed. No one said anything when she opened the attic window and crawled out onto the sloped roof.
He crawled out after her. The moon was about half full and the sky was clear, and she extended her hand to encompass the dark city. “The Tuileries is that way and your apartments are close by. We stick to the roofs as much as possible. If the guard is out they won’t be looking up.”
“How can we even be sure we can use the roofs to reach my apartments?”
“I know.” She started in the direction of the Tuileries, and he followed, sliding carefully down the sloped roof until he reached the edge.
“Are you saying you have done this before?”
“How do you think I came home last night?” She lifted a plank lying on the roof and spread it over the narrow gap between the league house and its neighbor. Hands out, she took four steps across, then waited for him to do the same.
Tristan didn’t fear heights, at least he hadn’t thought he did, but walking across that plank and feeling the empty space below him made him sweat. He took a gulp of air on the other side while Alexandra pulled the plank across, leaving it on the adjacent roof, presumably for her return trip.
“I have a feeling last night wasn’t the first time you’d made the trek to my apartments.” He followed her around the side of the roof, as it was too steep to go over.
“We’d watched you for some time before we contacted you. I watched your apartments.”
He’d suspected this, and it made him angry. Except, in her place, he would have done the same.
She stepped across to the next roof, and Tristan followed, glad to have it over quickly.
“And what did you hope to discover?”
She shrugged. This roof was flatter, and they crossed over it. “Your habits, your friends, your lovers.”
At his annoyed silence, she looked over her shoulder. “How did you think I knew about Claudine du Champ?”
He glared at her.
“I must confess, I thought it strange that a man with your looks would only have the one lover.”
“My looks?” He rubbed the scar on his jaw.
“I think you know you’re handsome.” She touched his scar with the lightest of brushes. “And this makes you look slightly dangerous. I suppose I thought you were a bad lover.”
Tristan all but choked on the breath he’d taken. “Pardon me?”
