Velvet Is the Night by Elizabeth Thornton

Author:Elizabeth Thornton [Thornton, Elizabeth]
Format: epub
Published: 2010-04-14T00:33:12.453000+00:00

Chapter Three

Three days later, Claire stood at one of the small windows in the commissioner's private suite of chambers, gazing steadfastly at the scene below. Though tears misted her eyes, a smile was pinned resolutely to her lips. Zoë was about to enter the carriage which was to take her to the coast and freedom. Their eyes caught and held. Claire nodded encouragingly, and Zoë, with one last lingering look, obediently climbed inside the coach.

The temptation to call out, to do something to attract Zoë's attention one last time was almost irresistible. Claire bit down on her lip when the order was called out and men mounted up. As the carriage jostled into motion, with a choked sob she turned back into the room.

It was done. Zoë was on the first lap of a journey that would take her to England. Millot, the commissioner's clerk, had arranged everything. Claire trusted the young man far more than she trusted Philippe Duhet. And, oh God, she must trust someone. If Millot had lied to her, God knows what might become of little Zoë.

As she idled her way to the small table with the remains of the meal she had shared with her sister moments before, Claire clung desperately to the reasons for her confidence in the commissioner's clerk. Millot liked her. He liked her a lot. She suspected that he might even think himself half in love with her. He was considerate of her feelings. He had done everything in his power to reassure her, even going so far as to arrange this last meeting with Zoë.

For all her tender years, Zoë was nobody's fool. She knew! O God, Zoë knew why her elder sister had taken up residence in the commissioner's headquarters! Not that Zoë had said anything. But the knowledge was there in her sad, dark eyes. It was almost more than Claire could bear. Zoë had always looked up to her. Now, she was a fallen woman, or she soon would be, once Duhet returned from Angers.

If it had been in her power, she would have arranged this last meeting with Zoë at the school anywhere, in fact, except the commissioner's headquarters. Millot, she was sure, would have permitted it. But by ill-luck, or design, Duhet had given the precious passports into the hands of another subordinate, one who was completely indifferent to Claire's feelings. He had his orders. Until the woman was established in Commissioner Duhet's chambers, he refused to hand over the passports. It was no less than she expected. Millot had tried to argue the point with the other man to no purpose.

Millot was a gentleman. It was obvious that he wished to spare her embarrassment. The removal to the hotel had been accomplished under cover of darkness, when the curfew was on. It was almost as if he wished no one to know the identity of Duhet's mistressa forlorn hope. As she'd walked into the hotel's lobby the night before, a throng of young conscripts had blocked her path.

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