Chapter Thirty-Six

 

 

 

“That woman,” William muttered to Gaudet, “had better appreciate this.”

“She won’t.” Gaudet yawned, inspecting his fingernails, though William knew that being in such close proximity to Tessier could hardly be easy for him either. He peered along the dark street and shuddered in the rain despite his cloak, asking, “Where is he?”

“Perhaps he’s run off with the diamond,” William suggested, though he didn’t believe his own words for a moment. Yet he should be back by now. An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of his stomach.

Something has gone wrong.

The door opened and the figure of what looked like a man who had reached the end of his tether emerged. Huddled into a heavy cloak, he moved as though the weight of the world rested on his stooped shoulders. The two men paid him no heed, such a sight hardly unusual in this part of the town. It was as Gaudet was beginning to elucidate for William’s benefit on exactly what he intended to do when they were alone that night that he peered more closely at the building and said, “Oh my…smoke!”

And smoke there was, far too much of it for a mere cooking fire. William widened his eyes and in the next moment grabbed Gaudet’s hand before they both ran toward the house.

“That man…” Gaudet turned to stare after the vanished figure before the sound of Bastien’s voice could be heard, raised in alarm.

The door opened with relative ease, William thanking any powers that were listening as he burst into the house, calling for the boy. He did not have trouble locating him. Bastien was kicking and hammering, desperate to be freed from a room beyond a hallway that was overwhelmed with thick smoke, flames licking throughout the sitting room and out into the street.

Without a thought to anything other than rescuing the hollering child, William held a hand to his mouth and nose. Breathing as lightly as he could as he reached the door, a rattle of the handle found it well and truly locked.

“Get me out!” Bastien howled. “Fucking hell!”

“Your shoulder,” Gaudet fluttered, attempting to do just that with little success as Bastien continued to shout terrified oaths. “Knock it down, chérie.”

The Frenchman was, William decided, every bit as quick-thinking as he was good-looking. He added his own efforts to Gaudet’s, their combined weight and force causing the door to burst open a few moments later.

“Help me get my ma,” Bastien told them in a panicked voice, running from the door to the unmoving woman. “He killed her, help me get her.”

Without a word, William advanced on the child, swinging him over his shoulder and turning more slowly with the burden back to the door to tell Gaudet, “We need to get out. Now.”

Eyes fixed on the flames that surged into the hallway and cut off their exit, Gaudet froze momentarily. Then, with yet more of that admirable quick thinking, he took off the cloak he wore and used it to bat out the fire that had caught on the rug, providing at least a modicum of safety for their passage as he shouted to William, “Quickly!”

He didn’t need telling twice and, yelling for Gaudet to follow, he ducked his head, holding the boy as he made blindly for the door. The kitchen doorway was thick with black smoke and the cloak caught alight beneath Gaudet’s very feet. He dashed after William, the beams crashing down behind them.

The night air was almost painful as William dragged deep, shaking breaths into his lungs, feeling them fill with clean oxygen. He held a struggling Bastien in his arms, relief welling through his heart at the sight of Gaudet, just a little sooty, leaving the burning house behind them.

“He killed my ma,” the child bellowed, fighting in William’s grasp without much success. “He killed her!”

“And getting yourself burned along with her isn’t going to change that,” William told him more roughly than he meant, his next words softer. “You’re safe. You’re going to be all right.”

“I am so sorry.” Gaudet handed Bastien his brandy flask, his voice soothing, compassionate. “Truly, Bastien.”

“Let’s get him back to the house.” William found his voice just about steady. “We need to tell Dee.”

The child grew limp in William’s arms, the fight drained from him until he was absolutely still. He clutched William’s coat with white knuckles. Bastien sagged into the embrace, body shaking with soft, uncontained sobs. William met Gaudet’s gaze over that smoke-scented head with its mop of unruly hair, wondering then why life did this to the innocent.

Why bring such horrors to the people who least deserve it?

“Let’s get you both to safety,” Gaudet said, offering William a loving look, “and out of the rain.”