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Chapters (86)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright
  4. Dedication
  5. Epigraph
  6. Contents
  7. Paris, June 1794
  8. PART ONE
  9. 1
  10. 2
  11. 3
  12. 4
  13. 5
  14. 6
  15. 7
  16. PART TWO
  17. 1
  18. 2
  19. 3
  20. 4
  21. 5
  22. 6
  23. 7
  24. 8
  25. 9
  26. 10
  27. 11
  28. 12
  29. PART THREE
  30. 1
  31. 2
  32. 3
  33. 4
  34. 5
  35. 6
  36. 7
  37. 8
  38. 9
  39. 10
  40. 11
  41. 12
  42. 13
  43. 14
  44. 15
  45. 16
  46. 17
  47. PART FOUR
  48. 1
  49. 2
  50. 3
  51. 4
  52. 5
  53. 6
  54. 7
  55. 8
  56. 9
  57. 10
  58. 11
  59. PART FIVE
  60. 1
  61. 2
  62. 3
  63. 4
  64. 5
  65. 6
  66. 7
  67. PART SIX
  68. 1
  69. 2
  70. 3
  71. 4
  72. 5
  73. 6
  74. 7
  75. 8
  76. 9
  77. 10
  78. 11
  79. 12
  80. 13
  81. 14
  82. Postscript
  83. A Ship in Le Havre Port
  84. Acknowledgements
  85. About the Author
  86. About Zephyr

It was cruel, but they’d had to keep the truth of the plan to themselves. If Ada and Al handled the duc, she needed their reactions to look real.

Though there was one person they’d had to let in on it.

‘We still need to get you off the mountain,’ said Camille.

A light shone in Olympe’s eyes. ‘I might have an idea about that. What if you let me fall?’

They’d called James from where he’d been checking on Guil’s injuries.

‘Do you have a minute?’

James had finished cleaning his hands and nodded.

With Olympe listening attentively, Camille ran through the outline of the plan, and what they needed him for. Someone had to get to Olympe’s body when she fell and declare her dead before anyone looked too closely.

‘We still have the soldier’s uniform from when we rescued Olympe from the Conciergerie. If you pretend to be a guard, you can get onto the mountain. I saw a replica of the mountain backstage at the theatre – it’s steep one side and sloping the other. It looks like a sheer drop from the top but if you fall from the right place, you’d only go a couple of metres before you hit a ledge. If you get in the right position, you can be first on the scene to declare Olympe dead. Then smuggle her away in the chaos.’

James had stared at her.

‘Are you completely out of your mind?’

Camille had grinned. ‘Only mostly.’

‘It’s a huge risk.’

Olympe had folded her arms. ‘Everyone keeps telling me everything is my choice. Then you understand what I’m saying,’ she continued. ‘The risk is mine, whether we do this or not. If we fail, I’m dead anyway, or worse.’

He had rubbed his eyes, muttering something unintelligible in English. ‘All right. I’m registering the fact that I think this is completely reckless, but if you insist on doing this, then I’ll help.’

For all his protestations, James had thrown himself into the plan. It was his idea to bring a cloak so once they were out of sight she could disguise herself to disappear. They practised him dragging her away without her making any noise or opening her eyes until they gave a convincing performance of a guard hauling away a lifeless body.

Camille had rehearsed the steps in her head as Ada slept beside her that night. She would need to make it convincing. And they had believed her. The gun had fired with nothing in it, and Olympe flung herself backwards off the mountain. Camille remembered the way they’d both plunged from the roof of the Conciergerie hand in hand. It had hurt a lot more than she’d expected, even pretending to shoot Olympe. But she thought they’d done it. That they’d managed to win, finally.

She should have known hubris would be her downfall.

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