catâs, were also making it very clear to her that Viscount St. Aubery would make a formidable opponent should such an unpleasant confrontation arise. She inclined her head in rueful acknowledgment, saying simply, âI came to Paris to find Alec and to help him, if possible, to find Marie Claire and her family. I still intend to do that.â
âWe are all agreed that finding the St. Julien family will be our next priority,â William said, his tone no longer sharp. âWe work on priorities. Those families at immediate risk of arrest are always our first focus. We had nothing to go on with the St. Juliens, and the Latour family were in the most urgent danger. Alec understood that. But weâll concentrate on them now.â
âItâll be the devilâs own job,â Marcus put in somberly. âFamilies not yet arrested give us a better chance of getting them out of the country. And we donât even know where the St. Juliens are.â
Hero sipped her coffee, wrinkling her nose at its bitterness. âIt seems hopeless.â
âNot quite. We have a contact in the Committee of Public Safety who has access to lists of the people condemned to execution,â William explained. âThey arenât always complete, of course, but so far, no St. Julien has appeared on any list weâve seen, so weâre assuming theyâre in one of the prisons awaiting trial.â
Heroâs spine prickled at the memory of her brief incarceration, the tumbrels, and the terrifying mob. Marie Claire was a fragile flower, sweet-natured and very pretty; it was hard to imagine how she would survive the filthy rat-ridden straw of a Parisian prison, let alone the brutality of the guards. âHow do we go about finding out which prison?â
âWe have sources,â Marcus explained. âA few guards in both La Force and the Conciergerie can be bribed, but it takes time. Weâve been waiting for something from them for several weeks.â
âAnd there are other smaller prisons around the city,â William said grimly. âItâs impossible to get information on them all.â
Hero pushed aside her coffee mug, leaving the last swallow, and dipped her finger into the apricot jam pot, licking off the sweetness to relieve the coffeeâs bitter aftertaste. âSo did you come to any conclusions about the situation ?â She couldnât help the slightly sardonic emphasis.
William chose to ignore it. âItâs time you put on womenâs clothes,â he informed her. âAlec has gone to procure some.â
âWhy?â She looked indignant. âI feel safer in this disguise on the streets.â
âBelieve me, youâll fool no one for long,â he stated.
âIâll bind my breasts again.â
He shook his head. âIt wonât do, Hero. Iâll spare Marcus the embarrassment of a detailed description of your womanly assets, but trust me, my dear, they cannot be hidden from any interested eyes. And none of us can afford to attract attention. Besides,â he added with a sudden wicked chuckle, âif you continued with your disguise, it would be necessary to cut your hair, and that would be positively criminal.â
Hero wasnât sure how to take the last comment in present circumstances. She decided that in Marcusâs company, it was safer to ignore it. She was forced to admit, however, that while her disguise could probably pass muster in a crowded street, anything out of the ordinary would draw attention to herâa scuffle, a fall, an altercation with an unruly cart horse, all perfectly normal occurrances in the life of the streetsâbut if her disguise slipped in any way, it would be disastrous.
âWell, I canât see myself being much use as a woman,â she pointed out.
âThat remains to be seen.â William stood up. âFor the moment, you need to stay safely in here. Marcus and I have
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