His ears perked up. She knew exactly who he was.
She cracked a smile at his expression, and even such a small show of happiness squeezed his heart. For the life of him, he couldn’t fathom what about this woman caused his heart to race more quickly, not to mention the rest of his body to be at full attention. Not merely her looks, stunning as he found her to be, there was something more.
“We mustn’t be seen together again,” she said, and his own joy at walking beside her fled.
He hoped her reticence was nothing more than embarrassment over what had happened in his garret, something he would help her overcome. For his part, he had nothing but delightful memories when he thought of how she’d reacted to him, picturing her lips slightly parted and her smooth neck bowed back gracefully as she reached her climax, and her essence moistening his fingers.
With her next words, however, she didn’t sound mortified. She sounded threatening.
“Some of my friends saw you at the Café des Aveugles with Monsieur Christoff, the night you insulted him. If they see you dressed in this absurd manner as a baker, they will know you are up to something secretive and sly. Since Suzanne and Felicity heard your English accent, they will assume you are a royalist. I don’t want them to put me in the same category as you.”
“Because you are strongly on the side of the emperor?” It was important to Malcolm to hear her declare it, one way or the other.
***
SERENA RESUMED WALKING. They had stood long enough in plain sight discussing matters better left unsaid.
“You believe I am a Bonapartist despite how I lied to the emperor on your behalf?”
Malcolm strode beside her. “You also distanced yourself, telling him we aren’t friends,” he reminded her.
“We aren’t,” she said quickly, glancing ahead to see trouble. “And unless you are blind, you must see two of my actual friends are coming in this direction. I suggest you disappear.”
Without a word, Monsieur Branley ducked into the first doorway, and she knew he’d vanished. Greeting Guillaume and Felicity, it was the first time she’d seen them since the altercation with Monsieur Christoff and decided she should tell them her tale before they heard it another way.
Before she could, however, Guillaume began an effusive apology. While Serena tried to understand what it was for, Felicity jumped in.
“My brother feels terrible for letting you walk off alone with that beast.”
Surprised, she looked from one to the other.
“How did you learn what happened?” Serena asked.
“Christoff came by the next day with his nose broken, and said ridiculous things about you. He claimed you led him to a dark place and let an English spy beat him.”
Serena’s mouth dropped open. She was half appalled at the twisting of the story, and half terrified her friends would somehow discover who Malcolm was and turn him in.
“I knew you would never go anywhere alone with a man. More than any of us,” Felicity said, “your reputation has always been spotless.”
Again, Serena was stunned to silence. It was hard to fathom that in France, when she had so much freedom, she’d comported herself in such a manner her friends considered her above reproach. Yet after her behavior in Malcolm’s garret, Felicity’s high regard was no longer deserved. If they ever found out...
“I don’t mean that Suzanne and I are loose,” Felicity added, looking around to make sure no one was listening.
Her brother rolled his eyes. “We know you harbor no love for the royalists,” Guillaume asserted. “When Christoff spouted his nonsense, it was obviously a case of a rejected man. I did to him what he was trying to do to you?”
Serena frowned. “You kissed him?”
“What?” Guillaume exclaimed, then he gave a short bark of laughter. “No, I told Imperial soldiers he was a traitor who had met with a member of the Seventh Coalition to plot against our emperor. Felicity told me she’d seen him at the café with an Englishman.” Brother and sister nodded at one another. “Christoff has been imprisoned,” he said.
Serena felt the blood drain from her face. But her friends were looking at her so pleased with their defense, she had to say something.
“I thank you for ... for believing in me and protecting my honor.” She felt a little ill, however, thinking of Monsieur Christoff behind bars on her account despite his inappropriate behavior.
Moreover, a chill went up her spine at how easily Guillaume had turned on someone who’d been his ally. The two men had stood together before Bonaparte as if inseparable comrades.
“Whodidbreak his nose?” Felicity asked. “He certainly looked no better for it.”
Her friend had a smile that seemed unwarranted given the seriousness of people being put in jail simply on the word of another citizen. It reminded Serena of tales of the Revolution when people were beheaded on no more evidence than a neighbor pointing a finger.
