remembered. 'But I'm tired of being toyed with and deceived. And didn't I just tell you that Ethan might have slept with my own mother?' She felt a wave of nausea at the idea. 'I came back for you two. So we could start fresh somewhere else. Maybe open that shop like we always talked about. I have enough money now for all three of us.'
'De mal en pire, Maddy,' Corrine said with a shrug. 'My situation here isn't that bad.'
'Bea, what about you?' Maddy asked. 'Don't you want to be a dress model?'
'Oh, Maddée, can we talk about this later?' Bea said, rubbing her calves with a wince. 'My legs and back are aching.'
'We can live somewhere without stairs,' Maddy said, striving for a cheerful demeanor.
Bea gave her a smile, but she appeared exhausted. 'I think I just want to nap for a few hours. Then we'll talk.'
'Of course, Bea. Get some sleep,' Maddy said, hugging her.
Before she left, Bea peeked back out the window. 'I know it's selfish, but no matter what, I am happy to see you, Maddée,' she said, then turned toward her apartment.
But Corrine wasn't as pleased to see Maddy back. 'I know you've learned the hard way that there are times to stay and fight, and there are times to run. And the difference can be a very fine line.' She sighed. 'But this time, I think you should have stood your ground with the Scot.'
Maddy flushed uncomfortably, deciding this would probably not be the best time to reveal that she was likely carrying the Scot's babe….
The next morning, Maddy rose from her cold bed, struggling to muster the energy to rise and dress.
During the last few months with Ethan, she'd thought she had gotten past the tragedies in her life, believing she'd been adapting well. But discovering what he'd done—and knowing who was specifically to blame—made her reevaluate everything. Reviewing the litany of disappointment and heartbreak in one sitting made her wonder how she'd survived.
How many times could she pick herself up and dust off her skirts?
She'd just finished pinning up her hair when a nearby church's bells began to toll. She frowned and climbed out onto her balcony. Chat Noir deigned to give her a visit, and she picked him up, hugging him close. She already missed her kitten at Carillon.
Suddenly, the cat hissed. 'What is it,chaton ?' With another hiss, he scrambled to get down. 'Yes, yes, a minute—'
Scratching down her arms, drawing blood, he leapt away just as tolling began to sound in succession, building a steady crescendo all over the city.
When even the great bells of Notre Dame rang out, Maddy swallowed. There was no Mass right now. She remembered the last time they'd done this, and alarm filled her. She scrambled back inside, then rushed from her apartment. She banged on Corrine's door, then Bea's. No answer came from either.
People on the street would know where they were…what was happening…. Battling panic, Maddy dashed down the stairs, her breathing loud in the tight stairway.
Down four flights, then five—
The toe of her boot stabbed into something thick. With a cry, she pitched forward, flailing her arms, collapsing onto something solid but soft—something moist.
When her confusion cleared, she realized she'd landed on a body, sprawled dead in the darkness.
A single circular break in the bedroom mirror.
Ethan had known she had left him as soon as he'd seen it, even before he'd been able to question Sorcha. Somehow Maddy had found out the truth, and she'd thrown her ring at the mirror. Yet ever-practical Maddy hadn't left it behind.
The fact that she'd collected it—and every piece of jewelry—disheartened him more than anything. It meant she was preparing to stay away.
All Sorcha had been able to tell him was that Maddy had received some letter and she'd been pale as snow. She'd packed and left in a daze, absently asking Sorcha to take care of her cat until she could send for him.
Remembering Maddy's plan to visit Claudia when he'd refused to marry her, Ethan raced for London like hell was at his heels. Reaching Quin's home at last, Ethan stormed into his study. 'Where's Maddy?'
Quin's jaw slackened. 'My God, what's happened to you? You look like hell.'
'Where is she?' Ethan snapped.
'Just like I predicted,' Quin said smugly. 'Not knowing up from down anymore. And why should I tell you where she is?'
'Tell me this bloody second.' Ethan ran a hand over his face. 'She's my wife, and she's…left me.'
'Maddy marriedyou ? But she just wrote Claudia and said she was going to Iveley for the rest of the spring. That she owned it now, or something fantastic. Why would she leave you if she actually married you?'
Iveley?Maddy was throwing him a red herring, and he knew why.
She's about to disappear…. She'd been gone three days—long enough to sell off everything and book passage anywhere in the world.
'She's no' at Iveley,' Ethan said, pinching the bridge of his nose. 'She's gone back to Paris.'
'You had better hope not,' Quin said, shooting to his feet.
Ethan narrowed his eyes. 'Why no'?'
'We've just been getting word that there's…sickness there.'
At Quin's expression, dread settled heavily in the pit of Ethan's stomach. 'What kind?'
'MacCarrick, it's…cholera.'
Forty-three
'Just calm yourself,' Quin said. 'The early wires say that they've contained it in some of the lower parishes. It might not even touch Madeleine in St. Roch. But I still advise you to hurry, because the city's becoming unstable and there have already been rumors of impending martial law. You remember what happened in the last outbreak?'
Ethan swallowed. Sixteen hundred people had died in a cholera-related riot, shot down by soldiers in a matter of hours. Dead, not even from the disease. No, twenty thousand had fallen from that.
'She's no' in St. Roch,' Ethan said, striding out to his horse. 'She's likely in La Marais.'
Quin was right behind him. 'What in the hell is she doing there?'
'Does no' matter—'
'Damn it, Ethan…that's the area hardest hit.'
Ethan felt like his heart had stopped. 'What did you say?'
'There's already been talk of a quarantine for La Marais. I don't understand why she might be in a slum like that, but if she is, you have to get her out….' Quin shook his head hard. 'The Network would never officially recommend that you smuggle a subject out of a military quarantine, but you know protocols. You know how to protect others. You could do this safely.'
Ethan had been in cholera-ravaged areas many times before. The latest medical texts avowed:Cleanliness, sobriety, and judicious ventilation defy the pestilence . In the field, Ethan had learned:Boil anything that goes in, burn everything that comes out, and splash whisky over anything suspicious .
'So unofficially,' Quin continued quietly, 'I'll help you with transport. And you'll get down there and extract her from wherever she might be—regardless of the situation. Do you understand me? Get in and get her out. And don't get caught breaking quarantine.' He met Ethan's eyes. 'Or you'll both be shot on sight.'
Morning crept pale and listless over La Marais.
Yesterday, the streets had been choked with those strong enough to flee. Now the exodus was sparse and slow, as if already defeated.
Maddy sat alone on her building's front steps, with her knees to her chest and her chin resting on them. Her forehead beaded perspiration even in the chill spring air and her body shook. Those damned bells tolled nonstop; regimental drums beat in the distance, reminding them all of the oppressive threat of quarantine.
The stoop was empty of the drunks, most of whom had contracted the disease and swiftly passed on. Two nights ago, one had crawled into the building for help, then died in the stairwell.
The one Maddy had fallen over. She wiped her brow. Now she was infected as well.
Ethan had called her a fox once, but she could find no means to escape this trap. It was too late for her
