To Capture a Spy by Silvia Violet

Author:Silvia Violet
Language: ron
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Published: 2008-06-19T14:56:32+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Meg returned shortly, carrying a thin shawl. She said she would need it if the night air was chilly. He prayed for a strong breeze.

She pulled the knife from her reticule to show him she had it. He thought it unlikely that she would get to it in time if they were attacked. Nevertheless, he felt better knowing she had a weapon.

He’d planned to walk, but with Meg accompanying him, he felt safer borrowing Fabienne’s closed carriage. Stevens could stay with the conveyance, and Thurston could follow them at a discreet distance, ready to get Meg to safety if trouble arose.

Several times during the ride, he repeated the guidelines he’d set for their excursion.

“Do not leave my side. Do not start conversations with strangers, and do not assume anyone is a friend.”

“I already promised to follow your rules.” Meg leaned across the carriage, placed her hand on his knee, and held his gaze. “I will do as you say.”

She sounded quite sincere, but she was far too impulsive. A submissive woman wouldn’t have survived what she had though. Her impetuousness was both her greatest gift and her greatest liability.

Meg’s eyes widened as they entered the square. There was no place in London where so many people from all different levels of society mingled together for entertainments of every variety. In some restaurants and cafés, plays were performed that suited all but the most delicate of tastes, but if one ventured up from the street level, one found gambling hells for the most desperate of creatures and rooms where one could buy any pleasure imaginable.

Meg struggled to take in all the sights. The buildings of the Orleans Palace formed an enclosed square, and covered walkways ran along three of its sides. The open, 136

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To Capture a Spy

graveled space in the center was lined with small trees. Benches were scattered under the trees, many of them occupied by couples or groups deep in conversation.

As she and Lucien walked down one side of the square, she stared into the windows of shops selling books, toys, and ornaments of all types. A clock in the window of one shop arrested her particular attention. The case featured a woman, dressed in a gauzy robe which rotated to hide all of the hours save the current one.

Lucien coughed. “It is amazing what people will buy.”

They passed stall after stall of booksellers, prompting Meg to ask if all Parisians were great readers like Fabienne.

“I believe most are,” Lucien replied. “Even the poor seem to read whenever they have a free moment.”

Lucien guided her to an elegant café. Most of the patrons appeared to be wealthy Englishmen. The room had an overabundance of columns, and statues of nymphs and cherubs stood on pedestals in every nook and corner. Gold molding lined the wall as if the owners hoped to give the room the appearance of a royal hall ten times its size.

The atmosphere was not unpleasant, though. The noise and the press of bodies normally made Meg feel confined, but the café was unlike a party.

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