As soon as they were on that boat, ifthat were even possible now, he and Lisette would leave Parisbehind. He wasn’t sure he was ready to leave this city. Of coursestaying would see him killed, so it was not an option, but he hadcome to love it here. He wondered if Lisette felt the same. Maybethey could return together someday, when Napoleon had been dealtwith and they didn’t have to pretend to be who they werenot.
John quickly stifled that thought.Once they were safely on English soil, they would part ways andnever see one another again. He had no doubt the Home Office wouldcontinue to use her, as they would him. Their being in thisposition, hiding and running from soldiers, had not been due to anymistakes on their part. But would he and Lisette ever work togetheragain?
The chance was unlikely. She couldnever work in England. Had she been poor without family, perhaps,but he was certain there were enough who already knew her asDanby’s granddaughter that subterfuge would be impossible. Morethan it was for him. Where would the Home Office assign her next?What would they call her? She may have been christened Elizabeth,but to him she was Lisette.
John glanced back. Two soldiers stoodat Maurice’s boat. Three more were on the deck. How had the manbeen caught?
“I tell you, I don’t knowwhat you are talking about.” Maurice’s voice carried on the windtowards them. “I fish, I sleep, I eat, I fish somemore.”
“We’ve been told youdeliver messages, and people, for England.”
Maurice spit on the ground. “I am anold man. Why would I do such a thing?”
“I hear the money isgood.”
Maurice laughed. “As you can see, I ama very rich man.” He gestured to the boat that needed a good coatof paint. It was far from the opulent yacht his family owned inEngland.
“We can’t find anything,” asoldier called from the deck of the boat.
“Search again,” anothercalled from the shore.
The three on the boat shrugged anddisappeared below.
Maurice shook his head, turned andwaved the soldier away in disgust before he took a seat on thebench along the wall. John wasn’t sure what to do. It would be tooobvious if they returned up the steps, but they couldn’t walktowards Maurice either. Of course, most Parisians did turn awayfrom the military police, whether they were guilty of anything ornot.
Elizabeth pulled on his arm and Johnbroke his focus. It was stupid of him to have stood and stared.Thank goodness the soldiers didn’t notice. Elizabeth turned, andthey continue further under the bridge but were stopped by a wallhalfway through. Bloody hell, now they couldn’t goanywhere.
“Can they still seeus?”
John bent forwards and glanced towardsthe boats. The soldiers who had been below deck had once againemerged. They shrugged and John wished he could hear what was beingsaid. “If they come this way, yes. But not from theboat.”
If it was darker, or the sun at adifferent angle they would be in the shade, but such was not theirluck.
They stood there for a few momentslooking out at the river. “We can’t just stand here. It looks odd.Let’s go back up to the street and wait to see whathappens.”
John nodded his head and tugged herhand. They emerged at the foot of the stairs just as the soldiersturned in their direction. Maurice remained safely by his boat andJohn knew he noticed him. Elizabeth sucked in her breath, and Johnacted. He put Elizabeth against the wall and did what any otherhealthy Parisian man would do when taking a walk along the Seinewith a lady. He kissed her.
The impact of Jean Pierre’s lips onhers stole Elizabeth’s breath. His arms tightened around her, andhis body pushed hers against the cold, stone wall. The soldier’svoices grew louder. Elizabeth knew this was a ploy on his part, butit didn’t make the heat of his body any less warm. She tilted herhead and wove her arms around his shoulders.
Jean Pierre groaned and pulled hercloser than she thought possible, and she clutched him just astightly. Goodness, she had no idea kissing could be so delightful.She didn’t even know how to describe it. All she could do was allowJean Pierre his way and mimic him the best she could.
Her head spun when she touched hertongue to his, and her knees almost gave way. Perhaps all of thebragging he had done about his gifts as a lover was more fact thanfiction. She was certainly starting to believe thepossibility.
Soldiers laughed and directed a fewcrude comments towards them, but Elizabeth didn’t care. All shewanted was to continue kissing Jean Pierre. To think she had keptrefusing him this while they were still at the palace. Of course,that was all a game and the part they played. Now she wished shewould have challenged him.
Silence surrounded them. Jean Pierrewas gone as quickly has he had come. The cold wind smacked at herface, and she reminded herself they were still playing a part, nodifferent than being actress. One he was a master at. She needed toremember that kiss meant nothing to him, just as it shouldn't meananything to her. It would be easier if it hadn’t been her firstkiss.
Jean Pierre stepped away, looked upthe stairs, and turned towards Maurice’s boat. “They are gone.” Hewas a bit breathless.
She took a step towards the boat butJean Pierre pulled her back under the bridge. “Wait.”
She stood still in the shadows besideJean Pierre. Soon Maurice’s boat approached and pulled up to wherethey stood. “Hurry,” the older man ordered.
They clambered onto the deck, and JeanPierre pointed for her to go below.
“Halt,” a voice called outfrom the opposite shore. Elizabeth glanced up. Four soldiers whohad recently been with Maurice’s boat raised their guns and aimed.Jean Pierre fell to the deck as the shots rang out, and Elizabethhastened below, but not quickly enough. Pain seared at her side asif someone had stabbed her with a hot poker, and she allowedherself to fall below deck. Had Jean Pierre
