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He snorted. “I was never going to follow those orders.”
“Why, Chevalier, can it be that you’re starting to care for me?”
He ignored her teasing tone, but her arrow had hit too close to the mark. “I don’t want you to be guillotined.”
“It must be love.” She turned away. “I’ll check on their progress,” she said, starting to rise, but he pulled her back down and into his lap. If this was the end, he should say something, at least assure her he didn’t hate her any longer.
“You’re right that I do feel something. I care about you. I—”
The sound of footsteps made them both jump.
“Over there!” she hissed, indicating what appeared to have once been an aviary. They moved behind the dilapidated structure and ducked down. The guard must have found the unlocked door and entered the building. Alexandra took Tristan’s hand, holding it tightly. He glanced at her face and couldn’t be certain whether her expression was one of fear or excitement. Perhaps both.
The door opened, and someone stepped onto the roof. A moment later, the door slammed shut again. Alexandra looked at Tristan, and he gave her a questioning look. Had the man gone back down or was he searching?
Neither dared breathe for several moments. When they heard no other sound, Alexandra moved to the side of the aviary. Tristan tried to pull her back, but she shook him off. She peered around the structure, then stepped back.
“He’s gone. Another quarter hour and we can look for something to use to get away.”
His apartments were but a short distance from the Tuileries, but it felt as though they must traverse mountains. And then she still had to return to her house and deliver the pass to be forged. It was exhausting work.
“Is this what you do every night?” he asked. “Break into buildings, steal documents, travel over roofs?”
“Sometimes I have to use the sewers.”
He wrinkled his nose.
“Of course, I don’t do this every night.” She started back toward the door leading into the house. “Only the nights when I’m lucky,” she called over her shoulder.
Fifteen
It was later than sheliked by the time they entered Tristan’s apartment. He’d insisted on using the door, rather than the window, and she’d agreed because he was a high-ranking official and thus his neighbors were less likely to report him.
She knew she should be bone-weary, but her blood thrummed with excitement, which she hoped lasted long enough to see her back to the safe house.
After he locked the door behind her, he lit a candle. “Can I get you something?”
