***
A week passed but she saw little of Sebastian. He and the duke kept long hours together and she waited anxiously for the sound of a knock upon the door carrying a message from the inspector. She was sleeping poorly but knew that once the inspector gained access to her father’s office, the agreement would be at an end.
She told no one about the conversation and cursed the day she had decided to pick up a quill pen and write her first pamphlet.
When she finally received word from the inspector, it was cryptic and mentioned a small park on the edge of Paris for their meeting.
She dressed as she had before, in the dove-grey gown, and took a carriage to the appointed spot. They greeted each other coolly.
“Inspector.”
“Madame.”
He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm as he would a lady friend and they strolled together. Sophie didn’t appreciate his familiarity and closeness but she understood it was for appearance’s sake.
“At the end of the week, we will meet on the corner of the street where your father works, behind the coffeehouse. Do you know it?”
“Yes. I have passed it many times.” Sophie nodded, but she had never entered the establishment as a coffeehouse was not deemed respectable for a lady.
“Good. I want you to be there at 10 p.m. Will that be a problem?”
“No. I will tell my husband I am dining with my family.”
“Do you have a mourning gown?”
She frowned. “Yes, my uncle died a year ago. But—”
“Wear that gown. We must not draw attention to ourselves.”
“I understand.” She pulled away from him then. “Is there anything else?”
“Once I find the papers I require, our agreement will come to an end. I will no longer follow you and you will be released.”
“In return for betraying my father,” Sophie said tartly.
“It is what I demand. And I have already told you I am not after your father.”
Sophie had nothing left to say as she retreated back to the waiting carriage. She cursed herself for putting herself in the position she now suffered in.
***
Sophie felt anxious as the week crept by. She could confide in no one and the thought of breaking into her father’s office made her ill. She didn’t trust Inspector Vennard to uphold his end of the bargain but she had no choice. She must do as he asked.
She was not sleeping well and as she kept separate bedrooms with Sebastian he did not notice the disturbance. Many nights she pulled her shawl tightly around her body and walked to the window that overlooked the street.
She knew the inspector had been watching her and she looked with anxious eyes for his black clad figure lingering on the thoroughfare. He was not there. Some nights she read late into the night until the last bit of candle wax had been snuffed out.
When the appointed evening came, Sophie donned the black gown. Marie helped her with the dress, she seemed surprised at the choice but held her tongue. The black color was very stark against Sophie’s pale skin and auburn hair and made her seem small and young.
As she departed, pulling on her black cape, she told Marie she would be dining with her family, and as Sebastian was not at home, she had no need to lie to him about her whereabouts.
***
Etienne and Sebastian sat in the smoky atmosphere of the coffeehouse where men came to speak against the monarchy and drink. No women were allowed and the rough wooden benches and tables created a warm yet decidedly masculine atmosphere.
Etienne was waxing on about his bride-to-be, but Sebastian was too concerned about his own problems to listen too closely. Short of drugging his delicious wife he was absolutely dumbfounded as to how to make Sophie truly his. He knew she felt the sexual attraction between them but she seemed fixated on widening the gap.
Though he worked long hours with the duke, attending meetings and spending less time with her, she never complained. She viewed the marriage for what it was—one of convenience. Damn.
Sebastian half listened as Etienne droned about his upcoming nuptials and watched as an elderly man passed by on the dark street. It was a cold night so when the solitary female in black passed the coffeehouse, she caught his attention. She was carrying a lantern and her auburn hair glistened in the night. The woman in black was joined by a man and he felt there was something strangely familiar about her. Could it be Sophie? Absurd! Why on earth would Sophie be out on the streets of Paris at this time of night? A lover? he wondered possessively.
“I’m sorry, old friend. Something I must take care of,” he mumbled to Etienne, throwing two coins on the table.
Etienne looked up, surprised, only to see Sebastian leaving the coffeehouse in a hurry.
***
“Follow my lead,” Alain whispered into Sophie’s ear as a lover might do.