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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

‘Hmm? Oh, not particularly. You don’t find many women are interested in it.’

‘You must think me strange, then.’

‘Not especially. I think most of the women I meet at home simply don’t know there’s something out there they could be interested in. Maybe it’s hard to imagine there are things other than needlepoint and party planning if you’re never exposed to them. If you don’t understand what your options are, can you truly make a choice?’

Something about that didn’t strike her as quite right, but she couldn’t find the appropriate words to disagree with him. Did he think she and Camille weren’t really making real choices about their lives?

‘Look – when this is over, why don’t you come to England with Cam? I’ve heard they’re starting to train some nurses properly at the London schools – we don’t have convents to do the nursing like France does, you see, so the medical men have realised they’ll have to get something organised themselves. I can put in a word at St Bart’s, see if we can find you a place. If that would be something you wanted, of course.’

‘I – thank you.’

Ada tried and failed to keep the sour note out of her voice. Grudgingly, she thought she might understand what Camille saw in him. He did seem so terribly kind.

Which only made everything feel so much worse.

7

The Bedroom, Au Petit Suisse

18 Prairial Year II, two days until the deadline

Camille swallowed a mouthful of rancid river water and choked. In the dream, she knew she was supposed to do something, but all she could think about was the crush of cold against her lungs and the dragging weight of her sodden clothes.

Something snatched at her sleeve, fingers tangled in her hair. Someone was scrabbling at her, pulling her deeper into the river. She went under, nose filling with water. A base instinct took over and she bucked and writhed until the hands let go and she broke the surface, gulping air. She caught a flash of buildings rushing by and tall, stone archways shooting overhead.

The grey hands grabbed at her again, pulling on her shoulders and lifting the weight of their body onto her. Grey hands.

Olympe clung to her, pushing her under the water.

Camille twisted from her grip and moved round behind her, hooking her arms under Olympe’s armpits and treading water.

‘Stop it! Stop fighting me!’

Paris slid by in a hazy blur of water and sky and buildings, rain smattering her face.