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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

He looked away. ‘I don’t think I can go back yet. You know my father didn’t approve of my joining the army. If I go back in disgrace, a deserter … well. All I'll have done is prove him right.’

‘You don’t have to tell him.’

‘But I would know. I want – I want to do something he would be proud of.’

‘Was this the sort of thing you had in mind?’

‘I admit I had more pictured myself giving rousing revolutionary speeches from the tables of the Café Royal.’

‘Next job, I’ll see what I can do.’

‘And you? What will you do when this is over?’

‘Why is everyone asking me that?’ Camille grumbled, putting the collection of lint, odd cufflinks and twists of snuff back into the jacket. Nothing useful.

‘You did start the conversation.’

They moved on down the corridor.

‘Point taken. I don’t really know. I can’t really think about an “after”. I think about now, and what’s already happened. And the future as far I need to see past the end of the current job. I try to picture my perfect life and I see nothing. Maybe there’s something wrong with me.’

‘You see nothing? Not even a person?’

The next door was locked. Camille jerked the handle in frustration.

‘You will have to tell James about your relationship with Ada won’t you?’ continued Guil.

‘I will. But it’s not the right time.’

‘My father would say avoiding a problem is adding interest to a loan you cannot afford.’

‘I am not avoiding it!’ Camille aimed a hard kick at the door.

The brittle wood shattered under her boot, splintering the door frame as the lock was forced from its setting.

She and Guil surveyed the destruction.

The door swung open, revealing a dim room containing a cot bed, and a card table strewn with candle stubs and broken clay pipes.

And a man, watching them with curiosity.

Camille stopped dead.

He hesitated, and then a menacing smile spread across his wolfish face as he recognised her.

She’d already recognised him.

Dorval. The duc’s henchman.

Dragging Guil with her, she turned and ran.

10

The Chapel

In the end, it hadn’t taken much searching to find what Ada was looking for.

The duc’s research notes weren’t locked away. They weren’t even in a drawer. The sheets of paper had been wrapped in a leather folder and weighed down with a pair of forceps. The loose sheets were of varying age, some crumpled and smoothed out again, some stained and torn, others crisp and fresh, the ink still shiny. She’d ignored them at first, distracted by the anatomical drawings and notation. But when she pulled the first sheet out, she realised what they were.

2 février 1778