Glamorous Illusions (32 page)

I was almost clear when I heard a shout.
“Là! Il y en a une là-bas!”
I'd been spotted. I pushed forward, intent on getting past them, when I felt a man's hand grab hold of the back of my jacket and wrench me upward. I squirmed, flailing about. He was losing his grip. But then he got a better hold and bodily lifted me to a standing position. I blinked in surprise, gasping as he rammed me against the wall that separated us. What sort of man had the strength to do that? I shuddered at the thought of him breaking through and knew my only chance was to escape him now.

He rammed me against the wall again, and the rays of light around me began to swirl. He intended to render me unconscious, I concluded dimly. Instinctively, I slumped, as if he'd accomplished his task. His hand snaked in through the hole and wrapped around me, underneath one arm, up and around my opposite shoulder, where he dug his fingers in. I felt as trapped as if I were shackled to the wall with iron. My head spun. I heard the men behind me shouting, more arriving, additional plaster giving way at my lower back. How soon until they were through?

It was then that my head cleared and my vision steadied. To my left, those with the ax were making better progress. From my peripheral vision, I could see a head pop through.

I could feel the hairs of my captor's forearm at my chin and didn't hesitate. I leaned down and bit, as hard as I could, tasting sweat and blood as I heard him scream behind me. He immediately dropped me, and I fell to my knees and scrambled out of reach, then rose and stumbled down the passageway.

I looked back and saw the first man shimmying through the hole made by the ax, in silhouette for a moment, disappearing in the dark, then reappearing in the light of the nearest hole.

“
Je la tiens
,” he said to his comrades, obviously telling them that he would fetch me.

I turned back around and ran, headlong, forward.

Will
, I thought in desperation.
Where are you?

CHAPTER 36

~Cora~

Seeing the corner too late in the velvety darkness, I rammed into the end of the passageway, crunching my shoulder and forehead. I almost bounced off the wall, stumbling to keep my feet. I moaned and then took a lurching step toward the nearest peephole, only glancing through it before I yanked on the lever. I slipped through, turned, and rammed it shut just as my pursuer reached it.

He pulled the lever too, of course, and I bodily pushed against the doorway—which in this room was an armoire—to keep him out. But he was stronger, and my stocking feet slid as he pushed it open, inch by inch. I was eyeing the door, wondering if I could get through it and to another room that I could barricade before he caught me.

That was when Will slid into the room as if pursued. Spying me, he ran to my side and helped me ram the door shut again. “Quick, that chair!” he said with a grunt, face red with the effort of holding the armoire in place.

I dragged the massive gilt chair over to him. Will tilted it and rammed it underneath a shelf of the armoire, effectively jamming it. We heard the man shout in frustration and pound the wall.

Will grabbed my hand and led me to the main door. He peeked around the corner, then muttered, “No choice, really.” With that he dragged me across the sprawling, high-ceilinged hall into another bedroom. Fifteen feet away to our left, two men were turning. They spotted us.

Will slammed the door shut and turned the key in the lock, then rammed a chair beneath it. He stumbled backward, staring at the glass knob as it turned and the men banged against the door. Then he ran to the window, pulling open the tall shutters and tugging the windowpane open. He glanced down and frowned, obviously considering the height and whether we could jump or climb down. But my attention was on the door. I was trembling with the impact of each charge. “Will…”

He turned around and shook his head at me. “We're too high. There's nowhere to go out there.” His eyes scanned the rest of the room. “Think there are any other hidden passages on this side?”

“I don't think so. The footman would have told us.”

His eyes stopped moving around the room and settled on me. He reached out and with gentle hands, touched my head. “You're hurt.”

I wiggled away. “I'm all right! We have to get out of here.”

But his eyes stayed on me, impossibly ignoring the door that was shuddering behind him. “We can't. We'll face them, Cora. I'll hold them off as long as I can. The authorities should be here any minute.”

I didn't want to agree with him, and for a moment, I desperately tried to think of another way, but then I gave up, wrapping my arms around him for a quick hug. He hesitated and then wrapped his arms around me, taking one breath, then two. The men at the door had retrieved the axes and were using them on the only thing that stood between us now.

Will turned and stood between them and me.

Had the others made it to safety? I still hadn't seen Hugh and Felix. Where were they?

The ax abruptly stopped swinging. We heard shouts. And then a hole exploded through the door right above the knob, making Will and me both cower and dodge to the side. They'd shot it. But only a five-inch piece of door was gone. The chair beneath the knob still held. We could hear the men outside swearing. Will backed me away, sheltering me in the corner of the room in case they reloaded and shot again. Kicking ensued, and the door cracked, breaking almost in two. I glimpsed the men outside; one huge man had a wounded arm dripping with blood.
The one I bit.
His face contorted in a sneer when he saw me, and he kicked furiously at the door. My heart hammered in my chest. He wouldn't care that I was not one of the intended targets. He would simply want retribution.

But then another shot was fired, and abruptly the attack on our door ceased. We could see nothing but the empty doorway across from us. Shouts filled the hallway, along with the sound of many running feet, boots on wood.
The police
, I gradually understood, speechless with relief.
The police.

Will turned and, with a triumphant smile, pulled me into his arms again. I wrapped my arms around him, closing my eyes, trying to accept that we were all right. I was safe. Alive. I clung to him, burying my face against his chest, treasuring the feel of my head tucked beneath his chin, his strong hands spread across my back, the comforting warmth of him.

And when I opened my eyes, I saw Pierre in the doorway, pistol aloft, staring at us, mouth agape.

“Pierre!” I said, so glad to see him safe too. I pulled away from Will, stumbling toward him, but his expression confused me. It took a moment for me to identify it, and it wasn't until his arms settled around me that I knew what I'd seen—jealousy.

Men in uniform surrounded Pierre and then edged past him, motioning to us to come with them, saying in French that all was well; we were safe. Will passed by without a word. Pierre tightened his grip around my trembling shoulders and seemed to soften as he held me. “Ahh, Cora, I am so sorry. Forgive me for not being here to defend you and your kin.”

“It is all right. We never expected—not a one of us could…” I didn't know what I was saying. I stopped trying. Pierre led me downstairs to the library, where the rest of the Kensingtons and Morgans were huddled. Nell and Lil cried out when they saw me, almost knocking me from my feet with their embrace. Their dirty, tear-striped faces looked upon me with pure joy. Vivian rose and walked in a stately fashion toward us, waiting for the girls to release me before enveloping me in her arms. “You saved us, Cora. Thank you,” she whispered in my ear, holding me tight.

Andrew was there then too, laying a gentle hand on my shoulder, thanking me with an uncommonly warm look in his green eyes. Hugh and Felix were pumping Will's hand, rapidly telling him that they'd been blindsided, struck from behind, bound and left unconscious in their rooms. The old bear, Stuart, had suffered a similar fate. A physician was seeing to him now.

I looked about at them all, such strong people to have survived such a night as this. And I glimpsed the humanity we shared, as well as the bond that had been formed between us. Hugh and Felix held dripping blocks of ice, wrapped in cloth, to their heads. Will allowed the physician to examine his eyes. The younger girls were crying again, talking, both at once, to the police constable. Vivian, trembling as badly as I, stood behind them, until Andrew urged her to a chair.

It struck me then.

For all their collective glamour, strength, in this hour, I saw what an illusion it was. Beneath the facade they were as human as I—fallible, faltering. Struggling to discover themselves, each in their own way.

Will cupped my elbow. “I think you had better sit down,” he said.

I glanced up at him and took a seat I hadn't seen appear. “Thank you,” I said, more falling into the chair than sitting down. I hadn't noticed that my knees had turned to rubber.

“Here,” Pierre said, beside me. “Drink some tea.”

I took the cup from him, but my hands were shaking so hard that the cup nearly clattered off the saucer. He reached out and took it from me, bringing it to my lips. “Shh,” he soothed. “Shh.”

I felt Will edge away. I didn't see him go, but I could sense the loss of his warmth, of his presence, almost as if a light had been moved from the room.

Pierre knelt beside me and set the cup on a small table. “Who were they, Cora? What did they want?”

“The girls. Andrew said they wanted the girls. The youngest from each family. For ransom, I suppose.” I frowned. My teeth were chattering, but I felt flushed, hot, not cold.

“Not you? They weren't after you?”

“Only as a means of getting to the girls, I suppose. Or when they couldn't get to them…as second best.”

I glimpsed Will leave the library with two policemen. Pierre followed my gaze. “How many did they catch?” I asked Pierre, bringing his attention back to me.

“Six men inside, another two outside,” he said, laying his warm, dry hand over my own clammy one. “It is lucky the maid slipped away unseen. But now they are all either dead or in custody.” He rose and placed a tender kiss on my forehead. “They will not harm you or yours again, Cora. It is over.”

“Good,” I said, the word feeling hollow in my mouth.

I knew I was affirming a lie. Because if there was one thing I'd come to understand, it was that life was never a guarantee. It was only a daily gift.

CHAPTER 37

~Cora~

The younger girls were weeping over “poor Henri,” the murdered butler, and Vivian was trying to comfort them. Our personal maids, finally released from official questioning, now flitted about, doing their best to see to us, their narrowly saved charges. Again and again, I refused tea, another blanket, a glass of brandy.

Stuart was arguing with Andrew over something, and my eyes focused on them. The old bear wanted to send a telegram to Mr. Morgan and Mr. Kensington. “We must dispatch it at once,” he blustered.

“They'll only make us return immediately!” Andrew protested. “Why tell them at all? The danger has passed!” I could read the frustration in his eyes. To him, all that remained was further adventure…and the perfect opportunity to ask Vivian to marry him. The old bear sputtered, apparently unable to figure out what to say in the face of such an audacious suggestion. “But, my boy,” he said, “I—I'm responsible for your well-being!”

“And we are well,” Andrew said, looking about the room. “Shaken, but well. All seven of us. To leave Europe now would be the equivalent of running home to our daddies. And isn't the tour about finding our independence, a greater understanding of our world and ourselves?”

Stuart's mouth opened and closed repeatedly, his old eyes shifting back and forth as he searched for a good argument.

“Oh, don't tell Father,” Lillian said, finding her voice and drawing near. “There's so much for us to yet see.”

Nell came up beside her and nodded, although she wasn't nearly as fervent. Clearly, the girl was thinking about the safety of her home.

“Drew's right; the ordeal is over,” Hugh chimed in from a corner chair, gesturing with his free hand while the other held an ice block to his forehead. “They've caught them all.”

Will moved back into the room, and with one glance, I knew something was wrong. Antonio appeared beside him, his jaw wrapped with a white cloth that wound around his head, a lump the size of an egg forming under his right cheekbone.

Will moved to his uncle, bent, and whispered something in his ear.

Stuart's eyebrows lifted, and then he frowned, chin in hand, pondering.

“Here is the trouble,” Stuart said at last, glancing about at all of us. “They caught all the intruders who attacked Chateau Richelieu this night. But the men that Will saw earlier in the park, the one Will and Cora saw at the cathedral—they are not a part of those in custody.”

I could feel Pierre's glance when Will mentioned the cathedral, but my eyes remained on the bear. What did this mean? That if there was any remaining threat, we couldn't go on?

“I must contact your fathers,” he said regretfully. “Only they can decide whether we resume our trek or return home.”

Hugh and Felix groaned. Vivian closed her eyes and bent her head as Andrew slipped a hand over her shoulder. The girls looked at each other, huge tears on their lower lids, as if they were about to be wrenched apart. I was torn—half of me relieved at the thought of all of this being over, returning home, reuniting with my mama and papa, returning to school…because after all, I'd held up my end of the bargain.

But the other half longed to continue this journey, to find out more about my half siblings, about myself. About…

Will.
The thought came unbidden, and I quickly glanced at him, feeling heat in my cheeks as if he could read my thoughts. But he was staring at his uncle. Guiltily I looked to Pierre.
Why not him? Why did I not think of him?

The room erupted in arguments.

“You must do what you must, as our guide,” I said, surprised by the words that were leaving my mouth. The group hushed, and all eyes turned to me, making the heat of my blush spread from my neck upward. “But might we send telegrams too? Reassure our fathers that we are quite well and feeling confident that if we foiled these intruders' intentions once, we can do so again?”

“Then tell them that we will await word from them in Provence?” Vivian put in.

“And if we get as far as Provence,” I rushed on, trying to past the wonder that my sister and I were arguing for the same thing, “if we show them that we're willing to take the next step, might they not see the very independence that they sent us here to discover?”

“You'd be safest here, my friends,” Pierre said, gently trying to dissuade me.

“But Pierre,” I said, rising and going to him, feeling strength return to my limbs as I made up my mind. I wanted to continue, see this tour through, I realized. We'd take precautions in case the missing men decided to try again. And this time, we would be on the watch for them. It'd be difficult to take us by surprise. “Didn't you tell me you could send us to friends in Provence? Or perhaps your sister? Surely they can provide adequate shelter. And we can hire additional men to protect us, can we not?” I turned to Will.

He hesitated, studying me. Then he gave me one slow, somber nod of assent.

“Then let us go in the morning,” I said. “Forget the shadows of this night, and remember what brought us to France in the first place. The art. The people.”

“The food!” Nell said.

“And the dances! Oh, the dances,” Lil moaned, as if already being torn from the next invitation.

The others laughed.

“My sister
does
live in a castle on the Rhône,” Pierre said.

My smile grew. “There. You see? What could be safer than a castle?”

“A castle would be a unique stop along the tour,” Will said with a slow grin.

“Then we move on?” Hugh said, rising and looking about. “We're all in agreement.”

“Now see here,” the old bear grumbled. “That decision is up to me.”

“Are we not the clients?” Andrew asked, keeping his tone reasonable, low. “Until you hear from our fathers?”

“And isn't your charter to take us to new territory,” Vivian added, “completing our education with an introduction to as many people and new experiences as possible? Is it so wrong to see but one more, while taking reasonable precautions?”

Stuart smiled, slowly, knowing they'd found an argument he might support. “You're certain, then, all of you? Unanimous in this?” His smile faded as he studied each face around the circle.

“Let it be a vote, then,” Will said. “All in favor, say aye.”

As one, we voted aloud.

“All against, say nay.”

The room was silent.

“I see I must ring my sister in Provence,” Pierre said with a grin.

“If you'd be so kind,” the bear said.

I rose and walked out of the room, then down the hall and out onto the marble porch, taking deep breaths of the night air, wondering if I'd encouraged the group in the right direction, if I shouldn't have grabbed the chance to head home and leave this foreign, challenging world.

I sensed someone behind me but did not turn, wondering if it was Pierre or Will. Trying to decipher in my heart whom I hoped it would be.

He took another step, and as soon as he grasped my hand, I knew his long, lithe fingers. Pierre. He brought my hand up to his mouth and gently kissed the knuckles, waiting until my eyes met his. “You continue to surprise me, Cora.” He shook his head. “In good ways. May I call upon you in Provence?”

I smiled. “I'd like that.” And I did. I wanted him to come. To know him better. For what reason? I wasn't entirely sure. I only knew I wasn't ready yet to say good-bye. Even if it seemed impossible, anything more between us.

When I thought about it, I didn't want to say one more farewell to anyone I cared about, even a little. Even the Morgans or Kensingtons, as impossible as that seemed.

I was weary of farewells.

I only wanted hellos. Welcomes. Open doors.

So I could walk through them.