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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

Camille stood abruptly and started pacing.

‘We’ve been on the back foot since this whole thing with Olympe started, and I don’t like it. If we keep stumbling around in the dark, we’ll be in trouble before we can do anything about it. As far as I’m concerned this is still a job like any other, only the rescue bit is bigger than we thought. We’ve had difficult jobs before – who snatched the Comtesse de Vaubernier at the very moment the National Guard turned up to arrest her? Us. Who kidnapped Louis de Noailles as he walked out of the Tribunal hall itself? Us! God – who managed to get the entire Sévérac family out of Paris when half the city was hunting for them? Us! It’s always us. When things seem impossible, who else is there? If we don’t help Olympe, then no one will.’

She stopped in front of Al, who looked up at her warily.

‘And what do we need to do a job well? Information.’

He returned her gaze impassively. ‘So read a book.’

‘I need your contacts. Who the hell is this duc and why does he want Olympe? Someone must know something.’

‘I’ll just go and have a chat with all my not-yet-executed entirely relaxed aristocrat friends, then, shall I?’

‘Or your demi-monde criminal friends, whoever has the information. That’s what you said you could offer the battalion, isn’t it? Information. Sources.’

‘Here’s me thinking that you kept me around because you liked me.’ He hid his gaze in his drink. ‘Or was it guilt because your second-rate lawyer of a father couldn’t get my family out of their charges? I forget.’

Camille narrowed her eyes. ‘It certainly wasn’t for your winning personality. Information. Can you get it or not?’

Al retreated to the window seat, grumbling. ‘Your wish is my command.’

She turned to the rest of the battalion.

Her bright grin was so wide it was as if all the candlelight and sharpened blades in the room had come together.

‘We’re in trouble, but it’s time to do what we do best. No fate. No destiny. Everything is a choice, and this time, we choose not to give up. We choose to fight.’

3

The Bedroom, Au Petit Suisse

By candlelight, Camille’s face was as flawless as the polished stone heads that had been lopped off the west facade of Notre Dame. She lay in bed beside Ada, eyes shining and unreadable in the dark. It was less than a year ago that Ada had watched men scale rickety ladders to destroy statues of saints with hammer and chisel, turning the cathedral into the Temple of Reason. The heads had plopped to the earth below like cannonballs, each a short sharp punctuation to the end of religion and the rise of the cult of the Supreme Being.