The Escape (8 page)

André and Eric flanked Theodore. Both looked furious, but Eric had blood matting his hair and staining his white cravat.

Relief raced through her, but Gabrielle knew the look in her brother’s eyes. She didn’t know where it came from, or how he reached it so quickly, but suddenly Theodore held a pistol and aimed it directly at Eric.

The crowd that had once gathered around the opposite street now did so about them. Murmurs of excitement crisscrossed them, but they didn’t move to intervene. Beside her, Annette and Margaux held her tightly, whether to keep her from Theodore, hide her from the ever-expanding crowd, or take her back inside Gabrielle didn’t know.

“You should have been put to the guillotine long ago,” Theodore snarled. “But I won’t let either of you escape it now.”

He stepped forward, pistol steady, but from his left, Gabrielle could see his gaze swing from André to Eric and back again. Theodore was an excellent marksman; when they’d been young and closer, before the Terror, before the guillotine, before her introduction to the Hellfire Club, he’d often practiced on their estate while Gabrielle enjoyed a picnic lunch and watched.

He wouldn’t miss.

“No one would blame me,” he added, clearly playing to the crowd.

Gabrielle struggled against the sisters’ grip, desperate to stop what was about to happen.

The shot rang out. Startled, Gabrielle tried to scream but no sound emerged. The crowd, so intent on watching this private spectacle unfold dropped into dead silence. Eyes frantic on her lovers, she looked from Eric to André and back again.

Both looked unharmed. Theodore had crumpled to the sidewalk.

On her right, Margaux calmly released the iron grip she’d had on her arm, and stepped away. Gabrielle looked in stunned amazement to her friend; Margaux nodded as if she shot people every day, but didn’t meet Gabrielle’s gaze.

Instead she scanned the crowed before calling out to someone she clearly recognized. “The man was unstable and paranoid,” she told her acquaintance, loudly enough for the entire block to hear her. “I feared he’d harm someone.”

Mutterings from the crowd seemed to agree with Margaux, spreading faster than word of the disturbance between her and Theodore. A man in the middle of the crowd shouted his agreement, addressing Margaux formally. Of course they knew who Margaux was; of course they knew General Fortier’s daughters and would believe whatever they said.

Annette pulled her back, away from Eric, André, her dead brother, and Margaux who continued to speak to the crowd as if addressing a gathering of friends.

“Go off to your life, Gabrielle,” Annette whispered. The other woman embraced her tightly, kissed her cheek. When she looked back at Gabrielle, there were tears in her eyes. “We’ll take care of this.”

Gabrielle nodded, stunned. Everything happened so quickly, she couldn’t do more than that. She wanted to promise to write, to visit them again, but knew both to be impossible. She couldn’t tell either sister her plans to leave France, make a new life for herself and her lovers in London.

Instead, she squeezed Annette’s hands and, her own voice choked with emotion, whispered, “Thank you.”

Epilogue

Gabrielle felt as beaten and worn as she no doubt looked. The journey across France had not been easy, but they’d mercifully not run into any Revolutionaries. Or for that matter, she thought as the carriage rocked along the streets, the motion lulling her into a light doze, Royalists.

She rested her head on André’s shoulder, felt his arm come round him and finally relaxed.

It wasn’t until now, finally in London and on their way to the townhouse André and Eric had purchased, that she felt safe. The Channel crossing hadn’t been difficult, though Gabrielle had discovered a sincere aversion to sea travel. London Hellfire representatives met them at the port in Dover and they’d crossed England in a blur of motion.

Now, with safety and freedom all but theirs, Gabrielle found she could barely stay awake to enjoy it.

“We’re here,” André whispered, gently urging her to sit up.

Gabrielle nodded and opened her eyes. Exiting the carriage into the darkened, and nameless, London street, she wondered where their new home was located. Anywhere not Paris, indeed France, suited her perfectly well. Still, with fatigue tugging at her, she found herself very curious as to her new home. Eric let the door knocker fall against the heavy oak, and they waited several moments for the butler to open it.

“Yes?” the man snapped, looking down his formidable nose at them.

“Reynolds,” Eric snapped back in English, “let us in.”

It took the poor man, Reynolds, several seconds of scrutiny to recognize Eric but, when he did, the butler bowed deeply and gestured them all inside. Gabrielle couldn’t blame the butler. Grime covered every inch of the three of them, their clothes were torn, travel worn, and just plain used. If she never saw this gown again, Gabrielle would be all too happy.

She didn’t know what the townhouse looked like, and while she knew Eric and André had already spread word about Eric’s marriage to her, at this precise moment she couldn’t remember any of it.

“The servants are well paid,” Eric was saying as they led her up the stairs. “None will utter a word as to our…peculiar living arrangements.”

“Though I do object,” André said with a hint of his usual wicked wit, “to being the cousin, forced upon my dear relatives.” He leaned closer and whispered into her ear, sending a shiver or arousal sparking through her. “However it does give me the utmost pleasure to be the wicked tongue at balls. After all, is that not the intruding cousin’s requisite occupation?”

“No.” Gabrielle peered up at André and gave him a wicked grin of her own. “His requisite occupation is to please his cousin’s wife in every way he can possibly think of.”

“I do believe,” Eric said as he pushed open the door to their bedchamber. “He is up to that particular task.”

“And will be for the rest of our lives.” André smiled, pulled Gabrielle into his arms and kissed her tenderly.

Gabrielle felt the love in his kiss as it warmed her, felt the need and the loss as well. They were safe now and that was all that mattered to her. She hadn’t lost the two souls that breathed life into her heart and she never would again.

She brought her hand to André’s face as they pulled apart, stared into his eyes for a long moment. Still held securely in his arms, she turned and responded to Eric’s kiss, the love and need in him.

No, she’d never be parted from either of them again.

About Kristabel Reed

Kristabel Reed lives on the East Coast and loves to explore the steamier side of historical romance. “There are so many sexy situations that didn’t just pop up in the 21st century and my goal is to burst the myth of the prim and proper debutante.”

She loves romances but historical ménages particularly which add an element of danger and discovery not seen in contemporaries. Historically speaking, unusual romantic connections put lives on the line—people were ostracized and some even put to the death.

In the coming year, Kristabel is going to try her hand at mainstream historicals with an added element of eroticism, which she hopes won’t be too overt.

She loves reading, watching old movies, and anything Cary Grant. And is always interested in talking about erotic romance, so drop her a line: [email protected]; or Tweet her
@kristabelreed
; find her blog:
kristabelreed.blogspot.com

Also by Kristabel Reed

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“The gorgeous storyline of The Masque combined incredibly erotic encounters between the three with an ongoing element of danger that had me on the edge of my seat.”

~Five star review, Just Erotic Romance Reviews

Olivia Reynard must leave Paris tonight. It’s the height of the French Revolution’s Reign of Terror and as a nobleman’s daughter, she knows it’s a matter of time before she’s sent to the guillotine. Fleeing to the notorious Hellfire Club, she soon finds a world of sexual pleasure she’s never imagined.

Comte Sebastian de Courville has promised to help Olivia get out of Paris, but he didn’t expect such instant attraction to the beautiful maiden. He wants to show her every pleasure known, but time is short and their lives are in ever increasing danger. And then there’s his lover…

Julien Laruent has survived the treacherous streets of a Paris in turmoil. Now permanently ensconced in the Hellfire Club, he hasn’t looked back on that time. A dangerous man to have in one’s bed, he took one look at Olivia and vowed to keep her safe.

But when old enemies exact vengeance and Madame Guillotine an ever present threat, will the three of them survive long enough to find love?

Find it at major ebook retailers!

A Regency Ménage Tale series

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“Holy smokes
, Risqué: A Regency Ménage Tale
is an incredible book! Not usually one for historical romance novels, I was immediately transfixed by the characters…Beyond the fact that every one of the sex scenes were incredible, the story line was both unique and sensual, too. Ms. Reed has a real talent for seduction of the senses.”

~Gold Star, Just Erotic Romance Reviews

The young widow Mrs. Alexandria Prescott enjoys her untainted reputation. In private, however, her sexual appetites know no bounds. She finds a fitting partner in the notorious Kane Huntington, but when the jealous young Earl of Rowan discovers their game, will he expose them? Or join them?

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Seduction of a Proper Lady: A Regency Ménage Tale
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“The sexual action throughout the story is hot and spicy…I enjoyed reading about Braedon, Ethan and Laurel in
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and didn’t want to see the story end.”

~4.5 Stars, Just Erotic Romance Reviews

Lady Laurel Westfield had been brought up to be the most proper of ladies. But when Major Braedon Sinclair sets his sights on the young debutante, propriety is the last thing he wants from her!

What’s a proper lady to do when she has two gentlemen who want her attentions — at the same time?

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