Durant Residence
Paris, Kingdom of France
Marcus stepped back from the door, glancing at Simon, who had been here before. “Was it like this last time?”
Simon shook his head, pointing at several boards covering the windows. “This was a place open for business. Now it almost appears as if abandoned.”
Marcus flagged down a woman passing by. “Do you know if the boy still lives here? Thomas Durant?”
She nodded. “Aye, if he still lives, he’s inside. I haven’t seen him in days though. Poor thing. He’s taking the death of his father very hard.”
Marcus bowed slightly. “Thank you.” He rapped on the door several more times. “Master Durant. This is Sir Marcus de Rancourt. I have a favor to ask of you.”
He placed his ear to the door, listening for any sign of life on the other side, but it was impossible to tell with the din of daily life surrounding them. He shook his head and raised a boot to kick open the door, the safety of the boy now in question, when it opened a crack, a sliver of an emaciated face appearing.
He forced a smile, hiding his shock at the change only a few weeks had brought. “Master Durant, do you remember me?”
The young man nodded.
“May we come in?”
He still said nothing, but pulled the door open, stepping aside. Marcus entered the dingy interior, Simon and Thibault following, her doorman, Enzo, left behind despite protests.
“You expect me to stay here?”
Marcus gave Thibault a look, silencing her. “You don’t look well, son. When was the last time you ate?”
He shrugged, his reply barely a whisper. “At least a few days. Maybe a week.”
Marcus shook his head, frowning. He motioned to Simon. “Take off your markings so you blend in a little more. Get us food, drink, and wood for the fire.”
Simon began disrobing. “And with what bounty shall I pay for all this?”
Marcus chuckled then beckoned Thibault. “It’s time to contribute.”
She shook her head, muttering about the environment as she fetched several coins. She handed them to Simon, who left immediately. Marcus sat Thomas down in one of the two remaining chairs, Thibault taking the other as she surveyed the surroundings with disdain.
“I have a favor to ask of you.”
Thomas looked up at him. “What? As you can see, I’m not in a position to actually offer much.”
Marcus smiled. “But you have the one thing I require.”
“And that is?”
“Shelter.” He motioned at Thibault. “This is Mrs. Thibault. She requires a place to stay where nobody knows her, while Simon and I try to find those who would harm her and others more innocent.”
Thomas’ eyes narrowed, and he regarded the woman for a moment. “What’s going on?”
“The less you know the better, but I will let you know everything eventually, I assure you. The good news for you, is that Mrs. Thibault is a woman of some means, and she intends to pay you handsomely”—she laughed—“for your sacrifice.” Marcus looked about. “It should be enough to get you back on your feet for a short while, anyway.”
Thomas shrugged, waving a hand at the surroundings. “As you can see, I’m in no position to say no.”
“Excellent.” Marcus turned to Thibault. “I think a down payment would be a kind gesture at this moment.”
Her frown deepened, but several more coins were produced and placed on the table. Thomas’ eyes widened and his stomach growled.
Marcus leaned in toward the woman, lowering his voice. “You have a chance for redemption, madam. Be a good Christian and help him while you are here. If I hear he is mistreated in any way, I will deliver you to justice myself.”
Thibault’s annoyed expression eased as she nodded, staring at Thomas. “You’re lucky he reminds me of my husband when he was a young man. So handsome.” She looked at Marcus. “Don’t worry, I’ll get him back on his feet again. But make sure you let me know the moment you bring my would-be killer to justice. I don’t want to spend a moment more than I must in such…a place.”
Marcus smiled slightly. “I shall. And keep a low profile, madam. Turning this humble home into anything other than what it is, will simply draw undue attention to you.”
She scowled. “I’m not a fool.”
“Yet here you are.”
She sighed, her shoulders sagging. “Yes, yet here I am. And what will you do now?”
“The less you know, the better.” Marcus turned to Thomas. “Young man, when my business in Paris is done, I would like you to consider my previous offer. Your situation here seems grave, and you have an option that will at least get you through the winter, and give you time to decide what is best for you.”
Thomas’ slowly nodded. “I-I must confess, I’ve been thinking of that. There’s…” His voice cracked, and tears filled his eyes. “There’s nothing for me here now.”
Marcus put a hand on the young man’s shoulder and squeezed. “Then join us on the farm. There is plenty of food, a roof over your head, and the laughter of children at play and the camaraderie of men at work fills the air.”
Thomas sighed, tears pouring down his cheeks. “That-that sounds wonderful.”
Marcus smiled. “Then it is settled. When this is over, you will join us.”