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Back Dangerous Remedy
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

She desperately didn’t want to cry but it hardly felt like a choice. She’d been hiding all her fear and grief and loss for so long it felt as if it had rotted her from the inside out and now she was ready to burst and spill foul, putrid tears over anyone who saw her. And that person was James.

‘I’m alone,’ she said into his jacket. ‘Everyone’s left me and now I’m alone.’

He pushed her hair out of her face so he could look her in the eye.

‘No, Camille. You’re not. You’ve got me. You’ll always have me.’

‘Oh, god, please stop saying that. You don’t understand.’

‘You keep saying that but what is it I don’t understand, Cam? What’s going on? What changed with us?’

‘Ada. I love Ada. I’m in love with her. I have to save her because without her I don’t know who I am any more. I don’t know how to have a life without her.’

‘Oh.’ He stiffened, brows knit together in confused. ‘I … see.’

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t want to lie to you. Not about something this important.’

‘I suppose you did say things had changed.’

She scrubbed her tears away. ‘You can hate me if you want, just please say you’ll still help me.’

He softened. ‘Of course I will. I could never hate you, Camille, whatever happens. You can trust me on that.’

He took her upstairs to the battalion’s rooms and ushered her into the parlour where the fire had been stoked up high. The coffee mugs from the morning of the festival were still on the table next to Ada’s half-read Galvani. Olympe was curled in a chair with James’s medical texts, devouring anatomical drawings of nerves and blood vessels snaking up flayed arms. She started when Camille came in, book toppling to the floor.

‘What happened? Is Al going to be okay?’

Camille sank into a chair by the fire and let James explain about Ada. She almost made herself a drink, but that made her think of Al and then her chest was tight and she couldn’t breathe.

Guil’s expression was grave. ‘How much time do we have?’

‘None. They’ll execute Al tomorrow. Ada … I don’t know.’

‘Well, I suppose that makes things straightforward – help Al first then Ada.’ James passed out plates of dried sausage and thinly sliced, fried potato. ‘Eat, Cam. Get your strength up.’

She moved to the window seat, swallowing her food mechanically.

‘So what’s the plan?’ asked Olympe. ‘Do we take Al from the prison like you took me?’