Page 20 of The Spy and the Nightingale
“Thank you for the loan of it, although it is finer than anything I require.”
“It pleases me to help you in this way. And I will admit it is not wholly altruistic of me to choose the gown of a fashionable Frenchwoman. But Nathaniel must tell you of these reasons.”
Nathaniel had seated himself, coffee in hand. Isobel looked at him expectantly, but he did not offer an explanation.
“You will alarm Mme Graham with your silence and your scowls,mon ami. You will speak to her of these plans in good time, but for now we will share coffee.” She extended a hand towards Isobel. “Come and sit beside me,ma chère.”
Although she made light conversation with Amélie as they ate, Nathaniel did no more than drink a bowl of coffee. Disconcertingly, his eyes were on her more often than not, assessingly.
Amélie noted it as well. “You will go and look out the window now, Nathaniel, or else my guest will lose her appetite.”
“It is quite all right. I have finished all I intended to eat anyway.” Isobel laid her empty plate aside.
“It is not all right, as you say, that he should glower in so menacing a fashion. But you two have much to discuss. Perhaps we three, to begin, but certainly the two of you. Now, Nathaniel, you will come to the point and cease your hard looks.”
He replaced his bowl upon its saucer. “I will be at the Palais-Royal this evening, Café de Foy specifically, with an acquaintance. If you are willing, Mrs. Graham, I would like for you to accompany me there.”
“Who is this acquaintance?” she asked warily. And why had he called her Mrs. Graham? It was absurdly formal after the past eighteen hours.
“His name is Étienne Baudelaire. We have workedtogether for some months now because we share interest in some of the same targets, although the people to whom Baudelaire reports are not the same as mine. I cannot tell you much more than that.”
“Why do you wish me to meet him?”
“For one, I would like him to examine Lucy’s miniature. I do not know how likely it is that he will recognize her, but it is worth trying.”
“And I must be dressed as a fashionable Parisian lady to do so?”
“Aye. It will serve your interests as well as my own for you to meet Baudelaire in a highly visible place.”
“Dressed as a woman who might choose to be in company with... Mr. Beaumont?” she asked. “Before I agree, you must first tell me who Mr. Beaumont is.”
Amélie nodded approvingly. “You ask very much the correct question,ma chère. Nathaniel, you will be forthcoming as you are able.” A look passed between Amélie and Nathaniel, and he inclined his head slightly.
What was the connection between them? She’d wondered more than once.
“Nathaniel Beaumont is a gambler. Bored, wealthy, hedonistic. Son of minor English nobility. Unlikely to be manipulated but morally flexible enough to willingly let slip information gleaned from his father, an official in the British Foreign Office, for personal gain. Interested, perhaps, in becoming better acquainted with and involved in Guillaume Dubois’s business interests in Paris, should they prove mutually beneficial.”
“And in so doing, learn more of Jeremiah Compton,” she stated.
“Aye.” Nathaniel wore his approval less openly on his face than Amélie, but it was there.
“So will I pose as your—companion?” she asked. Certainly this was a conversation she could never have envisioned even aweek ago. “Is that what you are suggesting? For I cannot imagine a man such as Mr. Beaumont would dine innocently with an unmarried woman. Perhaps not a married one, for that matter,” she added with a flash of humor.
“If you are seen in my company—Beaumont’scompany—such would be assumed, yes,” Nathaniel said. “You ought to consider that, as well as risks.”
“I suppose with the Allies still keeping peace in France, there is some minor risk of encountering an officer who knew Jamie.” She adjusted her skirt to give her hands something to do. “It will match your cover best to be seen definitively with a lady of—” She nearly saidlight moralsbut had no wish to offend Amélie. She would not say Amélie seemedimmoral. “A lady of the demimonde,” she temporized. Truly, she hadn’t the vocabulary for this sort of conversation.
“So it would, particularly as I have already been inside Les Moineaux and Le Repaire?—”
“Le Repaire?”
“Another of Dubois’s establishments. I will tell you more of it in another conversation.”
The first part of what he said registered. “You have—been inside Les Moineaux?” Her stomach rolled slightly. It felt almost a betrayal.
“Not as a paying customer.” Nathaniel’s gaze was steady. “I made my excuses and left without engaging anyone. It was not my intent in going there to procure services.”
Her burst of relief was immediate. It also underscored how badly she wished to believe in Nathaniel’s... What? His honesty? His morality? “You were saying that you’ve been inside Les Moineaux and...?”
