Shadow of the War Machine (The Secret Order) (19 page)

The rest of the train ride to Paris was blessedly uneventful, and both Will and I caught some much needed sleep. We didn’t have anything nearly so exciting as a tunnel collapse or a train wreck to throw us off course, although I wouldn’t have minded another kiss. I felt my blood rush at the very thought, but I wasn’t so bold as to initiate things, and Will had turned contemplative for the rest of the journey.

The worst of the adventure was our arrival five minutes late into a station that was half torn apart with construction.

It wasn’t the most elegant entrance into Paris I could have imagined, but we had finally arrived.

We had little to claim as our own except a small sack of supplies. A sudden fear took hold of me. I didn’t know where to go next.

I turned to see a man with a rounded face and neat beard watching Will and me. He wore pristine attire but had a look of mild reproach. I felt as if I had been caught cheating on an assignment by one of my instructors—not that I would ever do such a thing, but one could imagine.

I touched Will on the arm and nodded toward the man. He didn’t look threatening yet but seemed far too interested in us. We had to pass by him.

Ducking my head in mock submission, I wished I had a proper bonnet to help hide my face. I fell into step behind Will, as if I were his dutiful young wife. I couldn’t let myself stand out, not by my bearing or by holding my head high. As a woman I could disappear. All I needed to do was keep my eyes down and stay silent.

That is, until the man’s foot came out between Will and me, stopping me in my tracks. I snapped my attention up to the man, fearful that he had put himself between me and Will.

Will turned quickly, but the man held his hand up to stop Will the way a constable does. Will paused only a second, but it was enough.

“It’s a beautiful day in the garden,” the man said, as if it were the most natural way in the world to greet a perfect stranger.

My shoes suddenly felt like lead, and my throat went dry. A million words I should not have known flew through my mind in a fit of vulgarity. I glanced down, and on his finger he wore a ring stamped with the seal of the Amusementists.

I gritted my teeth. There was no choice but to answer him. “Yes, when the sun shines behind the iris,” I responded. As it turns out, my initial misgivings had been well founded.

The Frenchman smiled, and actually looked quite congenial as Will stepped around him and stood close by my side. “Hello, Apprentice Margaret. Welcome to Paris. Headmaster Oliver is beside himself.” He smiled grimly. “Come with me. You too, MacDonald.”

I gave Will a sidelong look.

We had been caught by one of the Order.

WE FOLLOWED THE MAN OUTSIDE
, where he walked a little way down the street to a less busy corner. A carriage waited nearby. I had never met this particular Amusementist before, and while he had the correct passwords to prove he was part of the Order, I was still wary.

“This is for you.” He reached into his jacket and produced a crisply folded letter. I took it and inspected the wax seal.

It was Oliver’s mark pressed into the wax.

I broke the seal with haste and read.

Dear Meg,

I would ask what you were thinking, traveling to Paris
with no one but Will, but I know what you were thinking, and I can’t find it in myself to blame you. I am, however, running out of pigeons to send to Gabrielle, so I’ll be brief. I am in no mood to lose my best student in my first year as headmaster, not to scandal, not to murder, and not to formality. You must return for the oath.

I know you feel we don’t have time, but should our trail grow cold, I am certain we’ll find it again. Your grandfather would not want you to destroy your life for this.

I expect to see you on the thirty-first. As for your reputation, I have explained the situation to Gustave. He’s a trusted friend, and his new wife can act as your chaperone while you’re in Paris. Take care.

I’ll see you in London,

Oliver

P.S. Will, keep her safe.

P.P.S. Try not to drive poor Gustave into the madhouse.

P.P.P.S. The next time you ask John Frank for a favor, do tell him to leave the Amusements alone.

“I trust all is in order?” Gustave asked as he opened the door to the carriage.

“Indeed. Thank you for meeting us here.” My misgivings
faded as we climbed inside. This had worked out better than I had hoped, and I was very glad to have friends who cared. Will sat next to me. I handed the letter to him so he could read it as well.

Once Gustave was seated, the carriage began to move through the wide avenues and boulevards of Paris. He straightened his jacket, and we had to look a fright compared to him. Will didn’t look as disheveled as I did, but Gustave was clearly a very neat man. His dark clothing was meticulous, as was his short beard, which suited his wide face.

“I must apologize. English is not my best language,” he began with a very heavy accent. “We have a way to drive yet.”

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“To the home I have rented for the holiday for my wife and myself. Oliver suggested you may not have arranged for accommodations before you left London. He gave me the impression your departure was quite hasty.” He crossed his arms over his barrel chest. “From the state of your attire, I see he was correct.” He dropped his gaze to the pale dust on my hem, and I tucked the shawl more securely around my injured arm.

I did need to find something more suitable for Paris while we were here. Suffering judgment for not living as if I were a
doll on the shelf was becoming very tedious. Gustave waved his hand in a nonchalant manner. “You are welcome to stay as our guests, but we will return to London in a matter of days. I ask for your promise that you will not run off again.”

I nodded but kept silent. That was a difficult promise to make. I didn’t know where the next clue would take me, but I now knew that asking for help from my friends was a much more convenient way to travel than trying to go on my own.

“We have no intention of traveling beyond Paris at this time,” Will said. “Thank you for your hospitality. We are very grateful.”

“I am only married this summer, and my bride is quite young. She is not a part of the Society as of yet. I would appreciate discretion,” Gustave cautioned. The carriage suddenly rocked and shuddered as we rolled over a rough patch in the road. I glanced out the window at large work crews climbing scaffolding over the façade that stretched, unbroken, over the fronts of every building all the way down the boulevard. The façade made the street look very uniform and clean, but lacked character somehow. “MacDonald, it would be best not to mention that the two of you were traveling together.”

“Of course,” he assured.

“Now to the important matter at hand. You believe Henri
may be alive and in Paris?” Gustave leaned forward and wove his fingers together. “Oliver could say little.”

Oliver had said Gustave was a trusted friend, and I realized I needed an ally here in Paris. I chose to take Oliver at his word. “I found a letter from my grandfather to Ulysses Rathford. It was posted after my grandfather’s apparent death. He told Rathford he was going into hiding, and that the only person who knew where to find him was Rathford himself. Will and I searched Rathford’s workshop and found a record of their last conversation. Rathford mentioned Pensée.”

“So you paid old Maurice a visit,” Gustave said. “And he is still alive?”

“Yes. He confirmed that Henry had indeed been at the estate, and that my grandfather had only intended to travel to Paris for three days, and then he should have returned,” I explained.

“But he did not return.”

“No.” I took a deep breath. I didn’t want to say what I was thinking aloud, but it couldn’t be avoided. “During the summer the man who was responsible for the murder of my parents attempted to kidnap me. He mentioned he intended to reunite me with my grandfather. The ship he was traveling on frequently docked in Le Havre, and then continued up the
river to Rouen. There’s a possibility that he has been using the Seine to reach Paris by the waterways.”

“That is a very weak connection,” Gustave said.

“I know, except Durant has led us here as well. If we can discover evidence that the man who murdered my parents is in the city, then I will be certain my grandfather is still alive and here in Paris.”

“But this man tried to kidnap you,” Gustave stated.

“Which is why Oliver is beside himself.” I smoothed my skirt.

“Do you know why Henri would wish to come to Paris?” Gustave asked.

“No, but we found this.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out the necklace, letting the pendant hang from the chain. It felt cool against my fingers. “It was in my grandfather’s room at Pensée. Do you know to whom it may belong?”

“It was near a letter that had been mostly burned in the hearth,” Will added.

“It belongs to a woman,” Gustave said as he took the necklace by the chain and let the large black stone twist in the light.

“We came to that conclusion, yes.” I fervently wished we
could find my grandfather so I would no longer have to bear the weight of speculation about his less discreet dalliances in his youth.

“Perhaps he met an old lover and wished to rekindle the flame?”

“Do you know of any rumors of a love affair with a French woman?” I asked.

Gustave coughed and looked at me as if I had three heads, but then recovered his composure. I supposed it was a rather bold question. I was too used to discussing these things with Will.

Gustave cleared his throat. “That is too far before my time, and I never had any patience for the rumors of the Society women. I was not born into the Order. I was brought in due to my talent for engineering, and a certain need for structure in my schooling. I wasn’t the best student before my time at the Academy.” Gustave handed the necklace back and then pressed his back against the rigid seat. He glanced out the window. “We have time before we must travel to London. I will help you search Paris for your grandfather, but I refuse to knock on bedroom doors.”

“Thank you.” I felt the heat in my cheeks. I didn’t wish to be poking around in bedrooms either, especially ones that
may have been occupied by my grandfather, however briefly. I placed the necklace back in my pocket, then turned my attention to the window. Perhaps it was best that we moved off the subject. “What is that?”

I pulled myself closer to the window, craning so I could see as much as possible. A huge white arch rose up, like a great monument from the glorious days of Rome. It had been carved with depictions of triumphant angels in glory watching over men in battle. They had been sculpted with all the finesse of the masters of the Renaissance. It took my breath away. Even the street bowed around the arch in a wide circle.

“That monstrosity is the Arc de Triomphe.” Gustave leaned away from the window so Will could look as well.

“Don’t you like it?” I found it extraordinary. I wondered if perhaps the Amusementists had hidden something within it.

“So much of Paris has been torn down and built again in recent years. It is all fine in that the city is much more clean and orderly, but there is too much that is uniform about it, too much that is for the show of Paris.” Gustave ran a contemplative hand over his short beard. “It is not Paris to me. Not Paris as it should be.”

“And what is that?” Will asked him.

“Paris needs something unique,” he began. He peered
back out the window, but instead of gazing at the Arc, he looked out on the horizon as if he could see something there, something grand. “It should be elegant, modern. An Amusement that stands out in the sun instead of sinking away and hidden to the world. Perhaps something that can facilitate communication between London and Paris, since receiving messages from the Order is so difficult here on the Continent.”

“I’m sure you would be just the man to create such a thing,” Will said.

Gustave waved his hand. “Ah, one day, perhaps.”

We turned through some of the neat Paris streets until we came to a small square tucked away from the busy avenues and grandeur of the city.

Gustave exited the carriage and paid the driver before pounding the side of the coach and sending it on its way. “I apologize for our modest accommodations, but at least your reputation is safe beneath this roof.”

We entered the narrow townhome and climbed a set of stairs before entering a modest parlor. A young woman came in to greet us. I was taken aback. We were very nearly the same age. She had a slightly squared face and very tidy hair that had been coifed in a strict fashion. While our ages
were likely near enough, she seemed much older, or at least demonstrated a very serious disposition.

In spite of her cool expression, she smiled and placed dutiful kisses on Gustave’s cheeks before turning to us. “I see you have found your associate, and recovered your friend’s ward. It has been a busy day.”

She spoke in a soft voice in French, though she threw a suspicious glance at Will.

“Yes. I’m afraid I had to wait quite a long time between the two trains,” Gustave replied. “I’m sorry it took most of the day. My darling wife, allow me to introduce Mademoiselle Margaret Whitlock and also my associate Monsieur William MacDonald. This is my wife, Marie Marguerite.” Gustave took his wife’s hand and led her toward me, while Will very subtly faded back, as was his habit in polite company. Gustave’s wife didn’t spare him another glance as she came forward, took me by the shoulders, and kissed both my cheeks.

“How wonderful to meet you. I’m certain we should be good friends.” She nodded primly at Will, who returned the gesture with a brief bow. “I’m sure you would appreciate the opportunity to freshen up. Then we may share something to eat and drink. It is a long journey from London.”

She had no idea. “Thank you,” I said as she led me
upstairs to a neat but sparse room. A small bed with a thick feather mattress and a warm cover occupied the corner, while a simple chest of drawers with a small mirror atop faced the bed at the foot. There was no other furniture save a worn knotted rug that covered the gouged wood of the floor.