Scurrying tiny feet ran over her boots, glittering eyes glared at her. The dark corridor seemed miles long, the journey as far as their trip across the Channel. Her heart pounded painfully as she slid, half fell, and then righted herself.
Suddenly there were cobblestones instead of filth and mud beneath her feet. Thank God. She had reached the side street.
She stopped beneath a lamppost, her chest rising and falling with her labored breathing. Dear heaven, that alley had stunk, and now she was nearly as odorous. She had a sudden memory of her island, where everything was washed clean by wind and sea, where people did not live on top of each other. How could her father have ever stood living with this filth?
But her father was not living at all now.
She smothered the dart of pain the remembrance brought. She was wasting precious time; in a few hours it would be dawn. Cambre's residence was across the city, and she must get there before Jared stirred.
Fifteen
Dawn had not yet broken when Cassie reached Cambre's imposing mansion. The house was dark, and evidently no servant was stirring. Both circumstances were to her advantage… if she could gain entrance.
She tried the front door. Locked.
Well, what had she expected? None of this would be easy. When she did get inside, she would have to find Cambre's bedchamber without being discovered herself.
If she broke a window, she would be heard. The garden? It was enclosed by a high stone fence, perhaps that barrier had caused someone to be careless and leave a back door or window unlocked.
It seemed to be her night for climbing, she thought grimly. It was just as well she and Lihua had spent so many hours scaling coconut trees as children. But straight, high walls were not as easily mastered as those bent, ridged trees. It took her three tries to reach the top of the wall.
She paused, her gaze traveling over the shadowy bushes and graceful rectangular pool. No sound. No sign of anyone. The path leading to the back of the house was to her left, winding through a sparse thicket of trees.
As usual, it was easier descending than climbing. She jumped the last few feet and started toward the thicket.
A blur to her left.
She stopped, tensing. Perhaps it had not been a movement at all. She had caught only a glimpse of… of something from the corner of her eye.
"I wouldn't move if I were you. There's a pistol in your back." Something hard and round pressed into her spine.
Cambre. She had not heard that smooth, deep voice since childhood, but she would never forget it.
"I've been waiting for you, Monsieur Guillaume. I was hoping for His Grace, but he evidently prefers to send his minions." Cambre sniffed. "I wish he'd chosen an emissary less odorous."
Guillaume? Her masculine attire had evidently caused her to be mistaken, but how had he known about Guillaume?
"Light the lantern," Cambre said to someone over his shoulder. "Let's have a look at him. Though I understand he's not particularly pleasant to view."
Dear God, why had she been so careless? She should have waited after she'd scaled the wall, watched for some sign of Cambre's presence.
Because she had not expected a trap. She had thought she was the aggressor.
Light flared behind her, sending a flickering glow on the bushes in front of her.
"Well, what have we here?" Cambre murmured. He quickly searched her and withdrew the dagger. "What an exquisite weapon, much more subtle than this crude pistol of mine." His hand touched the long queue of hair that reached to the middle of her back. "I don't remember being told Guillaume had such silky tresses. Turn around."
She didn't move.
The pistol pressed harder. "You'd be advised to obey me. I had a reason to keep Guillaume alive, but you're nothing to me…"
She turned to face him.
"A woman? I thought as much. Now who could you be?" He pretended to think. "There have been only two women hindering my path of late. Mademoiselle Deville?"
She ignored his mockery and said bluntly, "I want to talk to you."
"And I want to talk to you." He sniffed again. "From a distance. I remember you as a comely little girl, and I must see if the fulfillment is as satisfying as the promise." He called to the man in the shadows, "Bring the lantern closer."
The light temporarily blinded her, but that was not what caused her to go rigid. The garden seemed to whirl around her as she stared in horror at the man carrying the lantern.
"Dear God, no," she whispered.
"You're Guillaume?" Lani demanded as she halted in front of the small man leaning against the window of the café. "Take me to the Duke of Morland." He straightened. "I have no such instructions."
"You have instructions. I'm giving them to you."
"I don't obey women. I'm to watch the pension and keep the two of you safe."
"Then you've already failed your duty. Cassie is gone."
"Impossible. I have eyes like a hawk. No one came into that building."
"But someone came out. Take me to His Grace."
He shook his head. "You're trying to fool me."
Lani drew an exasperated breath. She wanted to shake him. "Then go see for yourself. She's gone!"
He stared at her, frowning, then slowly started across the street.
"Hurry!"
His pace quickened a trifle, and he disappeared into the pension.
Lani wished she had a spear to prick the stubborn idiot to greater speed. She had been filled with panic and foreboding ever since she woke to find Cassie gone, and she was in no mood to deal with arguments.
"Papa?" Cassie whispered.
"Do you think me a ghost?" Charles Deville smiled at Cassie as he thrust the lantern at Raoul, then stepped forward and embraced her. "Do I feel like a spirit?"
Cassie clung to him. He felt blessedly warm and strong and alive. "You… he killed you."
Cambre said, "My dear child, would I murder my old friend? We merely combined our forces to defeat a common enemy."
Cassie's head was spinning with bewilderment. "I don't understand."
Her father pushed her away. "None of this was meant for you. I had no idea you were in Paris until David came here and told us you were inquiring about me." He frowned. "You should have stayed home as I told you."
"You were here when David came?"
He smiled. "Of course. I've occupied a room here since the night of my… death. It's been a bit confining not being able to leave my chamber, but Raoul supplied me with canvas and paints, and I've started a lovely picture of this garden."
"But why? How?"
"The Duke of Morland was coming too close," Cambre said. "His man, Guillaume, questioned David two years ago, and Jacques-Louis sent him on a wild-goose chase to Tahiti." He clapped Deville on the shoulder. "Without my permission, of course. I was very angry with him that he'd endangered you, my friend. But I should have known you'd be too clever for him."
She'd wager any diversion from Cambre was instigated by Cambre himself, but to her amazement her father was smiling.
"With Cassie's help," he said.
"But when Guillaume came to see David again a few weeks ago, I knew he must suspect our connection," Raoul said. "And when David came to my house directly after his visit, Guillaume followed him. Since I had covered my identity well, the visit proved nothing, but we found Guillaume an obnoxiously thorough little man. On the chance that I might be a link of some kind, he set a man to watch me." His lips tightened. "I'm not a man who likes being observed. It gets in my way."
"Raoul, it's chilly out here in the garden," her father said as he urged Cassie toward the house. "And my resurrection has clearly been a shock to my daughter. Let's get her indoors."
"Certainly. How could I be so inconsiderate?" Raoul strolled beside them down the path. "Well, when Charles appeared seeking me, I looked upon it as a stroke of good fortune. Because of the nature of my occupation and the delicacy of ridding myself of this threat from Danemount, I could not trust the task to underlings. Such men come back with palms extended. Yet the Duke is a dangerous man, and I might need help. What was the solution?"