D’Avaux had stiffened up so violently that Eliza half hoped he was undergoing a stroke. But his grip on her arm slackened, and he began to retreat.
étienne was having none of that; he jumped to his feet. “Stay! If you please, Monsieur le comte. Your presence here is fortuitous and most welcome. For it were improper for me to meet with Mademoiselle la comtesse without some chaperon; which, as I have lain here awaiting her, has been troubling me more than words have power to express.”
“I am at your service, monseigneur,” said d’Avaux, watching beneath a creviced brow as the nimble young Arcachon collapsed to the floor, and resumed his former pose.
“Kill me, mademoiselle!”
“I beg your pardon, monsieur?”
“My suffering is unendurable. Please end it by taking up yon flamboyant dagger, and plunging it into my breast.”
“But I have no wish to kill you, Monsieur de Lavardac,” said Eliza, and threw d’Avaux a vicious glare; but d’Avaux was far too profoundly taken aback to notice.
“Then there is only one other way in which my suffering can be ended; but it is too much to hope for,” said étienne. And his eyes fell on the band of gold.
“Your discourse is fascinating—but strangely clouded,” said Eliza. She was moving cautiously up the aisle toward étienne. D’Avaux, trapped, stood at attention in the back.
“I would be more direct, but such a magnificent being are you, and such a base Vagabond am I, that even to give voice to my desire is unforgivably rude.”
“I have comments. First, you may be over-praising me, but I forgive you. Second, I know something of Vagabonds, and you are not one. Third, if you must be rude in order to say what is on your mind, then please be rude. For considering what it is that you appear to be asking—”
The chapel door whacked open and in stormed an officer, dressed in the same regimental colors as étienne, but of less plumage. He stopped in the aisle and turned white as a freshly picked orchid, and was unable to speak.
But everyone knew what he was going to say. Eliza came out with it first. “Monsieur, you have news of Monsieur le duc?”
“Forgive me, mademoiselle—yes—if you please—his carriage has been sighted, coming on at great velocity—he shall be here in an hour.”
“Has word of this been sent to the Palais du Louvre?” asked étienne.
“Just as you directed, monsieur.”
“Very well. You are dismissed.”
The officer was more than glad to be dismissed. He took a last beady look around, then bowed, and backed down the aisle. As he was going arse-first out the door, he rammed someone who was attempting to come in. There was an exchange of abject apologies back in the shadows; then in stalked a robed and hooded figure, looking like Death without the scythe. He pulled back the hood to reveal the pale face, the dark eyes, and the carefully managed facial hair of Father édouard de Gex; and the look on his face proved that he was as surprised, not to say alarmed, by all of this as anyone else.
“I say, was this all planned?” demanded Eliza.
“I received an anonymous note suggesting that I should be ready to perform the sacrament of marriage on short notice,” said de Gex, “but—”
“You had better be ready to perform the sacrament of extreme unction, if the young Arcachon does not untie his tongue, or hide that dagger,” said Eliza, “and as to short notice—well—a lady requires a little more time!” And she stomped out of the chapel.
“My lady!” called de Gex several times as he pursued her down a gallery; but she had not the slightest intention of being called back in there, and so she ignored him until she was a safe distance removed from the chapel, and had reached a more frequented part of the house. By that point, de Gex had caught up with her. “My lady!”
“I’m not going back.”
“It is not my design to coax you back. You are the person I wished to see. For when Monsieur Rossignol and I made inquiries as to your whereabouts, they said you had gone to the chapel. It was never my intention to interrupt a—”
“You interrupted nothing. Why were you with Monsieur Rossignol?”
“He has got some new messages from the Esphahnians.”
“The who?”
“The Armenians. Come. Please. I pray you. It’s important.”