Jane Feather - Charade, Unknown [great novels to read TXT] 📗

into the night-darkened streets of Paris. Hehoped the child would not wake and try the door. His intention was notto frighten her; the lock was to keep inquisitive souls out rather thanhis urchin in.

Chapter 3

The lanes were unusually quiet as the earl, sunk in thought, picked hisway carefully, avoiding the slime running in the gutters and the pilesof filth sullying even the broader streets. A brooding, restlessatmosphere seemed to permeate the city as its inhabitants awaited thearrival of deputies from across the land to attend, as representativesof the Commons (the Third Estate), the States General, summoned byLouis XVI for the first time in over a century and a half. High hopesthat this meeting of parliament would both address and redress theevils of poverty and injustice under which the peasant population ofFrance labored were mingled with a sense of helplessness. When thepeasant representatives were outvoted two to one by the nobility andthe clergy was it reasonable to hope for change? The Earl of Lintonthought not. Danielle's story of the uprising in Languedoc was one ofseveral that had filtered through into the towns. Panic and rumor werebeginning to spread, foreshadowing the "grande peur" that would sweep

the country by July.

A sudden movement to his left caught his eye. It seemed innocentenough—a figure disappearing into an alleyway just ahead of him—but hiswell-honed instincts for danger were instantly aroused. He gave nosign, however, unless one could see the sudden tightening of theslender fingers around the silver-mounted cane. As he reached theopening to the alley Linton moved outward into the middle of thestreet, thus ensuring open space at his back and room for maneuver thathe would not have had in the shadow of the high courtyard wallbordering the narrow paved street. As the three men jumped out of thedark alley he swung to face them, raising the cane which was now adeadly weapon, a wicked sword blade flashing at its tip. A swiftmovement and one of his assailants fell back, clutching an arm whichseemed split from shoulder to wrist by ail ugly, bleeding gash. Acudgel cleaved the air above the earl's head and came down harmlesslyas he sidestepped with the quick dancing movement of an expertswordsman. His opponent, caught off balance, could not evade the bladeas it sank deep into his shoulder and he fell groaning into the dirt.The third man, after one look at his disabled companions and the calm,expressionless face of their intended victim who was quite clearly notthe easy mark they had thought him, decided that discretion wasdecidedly the better part of valor and fled. Linton wiped his blade onthe jacket of the

man at his feet, an expression of distaste curling the fine lips. Thesword stick became a cane again and

he continued toward his destination.

"Ah, my friend, I had almost given you up." The Comte de Mirabeauturned to greet Linton as he was ushered by a blue-liveried lackey intoa luxurious, book-lined library on the first floor of a stylishParisian town house, set behind high walls on the rue de Richelieu.

"The streets are becoming a trifle dangerous, Mirabeau," the earlcommented calmly, accepting a glass of claret.

The other man nodded. "They will be even more so if the States Generalproves as ineffective as I fear it may."

Linton sipped his wine with an appreciative nod. "You still intend tosit with the Third Estate?"

"I do and Orleans also. But what brings you here, my friend. Yourmessage was unspecific, to say the least."

"A little unofficial information-gathering," the earl replied, reposinghis powerful frame in a small, exquisitely carved chair, crossing onesmooth silk-stockinged leg over the other. 'Traveling without one'svalet is damnably inconvenient," he murmured, examining the unblemishedsheen of a buckled shoe through his quizzing glass. "Do you not thinkthe left buckle is just the merest bit tarnished, Mirabeau?"

The count laughed. "Play the dandy with someone else, Justin. I am notto be fooled. What information are you after?"

The earl lowered his quizzing glass with a regretful sigh. "There ismuch concern in my government about your affairs,

mon ami

. Our two countriesareseparated, after all, by only the narrowest strip of water. Whathappens in France touches us nearly. Pitt is a man who likes to beforewarned."

"Ah yes—he is a man of sound judgment, your prime minister," Mirabeauobserved. "If only France

were as lucky."

"We too have had our Civil War, our revolution," Linton reminded himgently.

"True enough," the other man agreed. "So you are here to carry backfirsthand your impressions and what information you can gather?"

"Correct. So far, I have only a black picture. I was hoping you mightrelieve it a little."

"Alas, Justin, I cannot. You have heard tales of the 'jacquerie'beginning in the villages?"

"I have heard firsthand of one today." The earl told Danielle's story,omitting only the identity of his source and the fact that at thismoment that source was soundly sleeping in his bed at the Inn of theRooster.

"The de St. Varennes, one cannot help feeling, have received only theirjust desserts," Mirabeau commented with a heavy sigh. "And they are notthe only ones. But the whole family, did you say?"

"As far as I know," Linton replied. The lie was smooth and, for themoment, necessary. Danielle's survival would be revealed much later,when she was safely ensconced with her relatives in Cornwall. Heradventures must at all costs be kept secret if her reputation was tosurvive untarnished. Society, even in the face of catastrophe, remainedhypocritically censorious and there would be neither understanding noracceptance for a maiden who had roamed the byways of France as ahalf-starved beggar in boy's clothes.

The two men talked for another hour before Linton rose to take hisleave. "One small favor, my friend?" he asked suddenly.

"Anything" was the ready response.

"I need a suit of clothes for a servant lad, a very small boy, aboutthis tall." The earl gestured with a considering frown.