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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

Ada returned his look with a glare. But she couldn’t stop the memory flashing through her mind. In the Conciergerie, when the plan was falling apart and they were separated, she’d left Camille behind. And Camille had left her too.

‘You’re wrong. She loves me – we’re a team.’

Her father gave her a thin smile.

‘I hope you’re right.’

10

The Streets of the Right Bank

Outside, the air was crisp with fresh rain. Unease stalked Ada all the way to the Palais de l’Égalité, where she arrived just in time to look as if she’d been waiting for Camille. Her father’s words echoed in her head, making her feel as though she needed to scrub her skin clean.

Night had fallen, but Paris was still busy. The Palais de l’Égalité, formerly known as the Palais-Royal, thrummed with music spilling from the cafés and restaurants and casinos above. Smart shops lined the colonnaded walkways, where men in frock coats and tricorn hats and women in lace and ostrich feathers rubbed shoulders with prostitutes in glamorous silks and waiters hurrying between tables with jugs of beer and bottles of wine. Camille was barely distinguishable from the other Sans Culottes in their uniform of trousers, a short, red carmagnole jacket and floppy Phrygian cap, tricolore cockade pinned to the brim. Ada took the opportunity under cover of drunken darkness to walk up to her and kiss her on the cheek, feeling the pressing need to hold onto Camille, to make her real and present.

‘You’re safely out, then?’ said Ada, slipping an arm through hers.

In the gloom, Camille grimaced. ‘Mostly.’

Walking slowly towards the river, Camille filled her in on the meeting among the foundations of the Madeleine, and the duc’s threat if they didn’t produce Olympe.

‘Do you think he knows we have her?’

Camille shrugged. ‘Don’t think it matters. We’re in his sights either way. We’ll have to give him something to get him off our backs.’

Ada fell silent as they reached the Pont National. The Seine was a broad velvet ribbon splitting Paris in two. Moonlight painted a stripe along the surface and glittered in the puddles. Lights burned brightly in the windows of the buildings along the riverbanks, in slender dormers and broad bays, through expensive sheets of glass in the palaces of the aristocrats and through foggy mullioned panes in the slums. It seemed impossible to think that both of them had been struggling for their lives in the river only the day before. A chill wind came up off the water, and Camille drew her closer.

‘No trouble while waiting?’ asked Camille.

Ada swallowed. ‘All very boring.’

It was only half a lie.

‘With the way the world’s unfolding, I’m glad it’s me and you,’ she said, glancing hopefully at Cam’s face under her cap.