Chapter Eleven
Madeline climbed from the window and glanced at the roof.
Good.
She strode into the garden behind the Beaulieu Palais. Her heart raced, but she forced herself to slow down. Her shoulders didn’t quite relax, and her breath would take a while to come in even bursts again, but she inhaled the scent of lavender and roses. A few couples wandered in the courtyard, and Madeline even smiled.
Perhaps there was a reason why people in this region declared themselves so much more knowledgeable of romance than their English counterparts. In this warm weather, when one had such beautiful pieces of nature to gaze upon, how could one not believe in love?
Noises wafted from the hydrangeas. A man and woman were murmuring—and at times, embracing. Madeline had seen people embrace before, but her body still flushed uncomfortably. The act seemed strange and overly intimate.
And yet these people, whoever they were, could not wait to find a location of greater privacy.
Perhaps they’d assumed no one would be in this section of the garden, and Madeline tilted her head away from them.
Except… She knew the woman.
The comtesse.
But the man she was with was most certainly not the comte. He was younger, his hair was devoid of gray, and his stomach could not be described as being in possession of a paunch.
They mustn’t see me.
Not when they might wonder why she’d entered this private garden.
Not when the comtesse might remember her.
It was too late.
“Somebody is there,” the comtesse’s lover whispered, and the comtesse swung her gaze over at Madeline.
“Bon soir.” Madeline attempted to sound casual, as if it were perfectly natural to cavort in hydrangea bushes, as if she would likely be doing the same as them if a man were accompanying her.
Her tone sounded the appropriate combination of sophisticated and nonchalant, and for a moment Madeline was certain she could continue past them.
The woman’s dark eyes widened. “It’s…you. You found my bracelet.”
“Indeed,” Madeline replied.
“But you’re dressed—” The woman’s gaze swept over Madeline’s attire. Madeline wasn’t sure in the light if the comtesse’s eyes were narrowing, but she didn’t fail to note the suspicion in her voice.
“Let me see your bracelet,” the man said to the comtesse. “Perhaps she exchanged it.”
Murmurings sounded, and Madeline quickened her pace.
Then a wail sounded.
They’d noticed.
“Stop,” the comtesse’s lover shouted.
Madeline ran.
Stopping was not a viable option, no matter how much the comtesse’s lover hollered.
She quickened her speed and stepped off the path, hoping the grass might be effective at masking the sound of her slippers striking the stones. Delightful fragrances wafted over her, even though the night had obscured their colors, and the manner in which the branches arched toward the sky seemed more eerie.
The azurean sea transformed to darkness, only distinguishable by the glint of the waves’ crests under the moonlight and the sound of the water tumbling against the shoreline.
Her heart pounded, struggling to give her body every burst of energy it needed. Her lungs burned, and her coiffure became undone. Locks whipped against her face, and despite the cold breeze, sweat prickled her back and forehead.
She entered the town, unsure whether to be thankful or worried for Antibes’s narrow, mazelike streets. She ducked into an alley, and then turned into another one.
Footsteps pounded after.
Is it possible two people are following me?
She shook her head. Perhaps it was the comtesse. If so, she likely wouldn’t wander too far away from the palais. Not during a ball. Not in her finest evening attire. And certainly not with a man whom the comte probably would not like her to be seen alone with.
The sound of pounding footsteps vanished. She hesitated, unwilling to abandon the temporary safety of the alleyway.
But she had to return and fetch Gabriella.
Once the comtesse told the comte, and he put the whole force of his men toward finding her…
Madeline’s stomach lurched uncomfortably, and she hurried toward the cottage. She moved through the alleys, taking care to walk parallel to the sea front, noting the direction of the sound of the waves.
*
Arthur scrambled from the floor. The baroness had thrown a blasted vase at him. He brushed water and flowers from his attire. The last time he’d been caught off guard like that—he shook his head. He could call the others. That was his duty. He could round up all of Comte Beaulieu’s men and have her arrested, and then he would go back to London and receive Admiral Fitzroy’s commendations. Perhaps the admiral might even laud him right here in Antibes.
But it was Madeline, and despite everything, he couldn’t do that.
Her companion.
She would have gone to fetch her. They must have rented a place here. And likely soon they would be off to Venice.
She would need to return home first.
Well.
Arthur could certainly follow her.
He considered calling the others. That was his duty, blast it.
He dismissed it easily. He knew Madeline. Clearly not as well as he’d thought. But he wasn’t going to put her in a French jail.
Madeline was not the first female criminal he’d encountered. France had a habit of directing sultry female spies his way. They were easily distinguished by their practice of introducing themselves to him and their penchant for elaborate scarves, as if the latter conjured a sufficient disguise.
He hadn’t expected to find her doing such behaviors.
Clearly he’d been revoltingly naive.
The woman had no concept for danger.
The things he’d seen—
His heart thudded in his chest. He didn’t want Madeline to encounter any of it. She shouldn’t be locked in a cell, possibly executed. Not for a crime done from good intentions.
Damnation.
He scurried down the building and ran through the town: he needed to get to Madeline.
*
Madeline rushed to the cottage and banged on the door.
Gabriella opened it at once.
“I have it.” Madeline dangled the bracelet from her fingers. The sapphires and diamonds glimmered.
Gabriella clapped her hands together. “Magnifico.”
“Yes.” Madeline allowed herself a small smile.
It was wonderful.
It was the culmination of so much planning.
The set was complete. The Costantinis would be given some justice, finally, after all these years.
“There’s no time,” Madeline said quickly. “Somebody saw me.”
“Oh.” Gabriella rushed to the other room and grabbed two suitcases. “The carriage is ready. I hooked up the horses.”
“Wonderful.” Relief emanated through Madeline.
We are going to be fine.
She clutched the bracelet in her hand.
Fierce knocks sounded on the door, and Gabriella and Madeline stilled.
She moved slowly, but the floorboards creaked beneath her feet.
Gabriella sent her a horrified expression, and any hope she had diminished further.
“Perhaps you can hide,” Gabriella whispered.
Madeline considered locations. Under the bed? In a wardrobe? Could she sneak out one of the upstairs windows?
But each one seemed either too obvious or too exposed. Venturing out of the cottage from a window that faced the street seemed ineffective as an escape goal.
The banging continued. “Lady Mulbourne! Lady Mulbourne!”
Heavens.
It was Arthur.
He must have followed her. The man must be an expert at trailing people.
“I’ll answer it.” Madeline hurried to the door and swung it open.
“Lady Mulbourne,” Arthur said icily and stepped inside. He frowned when he saw Gabriella, but he still bowed. “Miss Costa. Or perhaps I should say…Miss Costantini.”
Heavens.
“You could have gotten yourself killed!” Arthur’s voice shook, and he glowered at Madeline. “Or me, for that matter.”
Madeline inhaled. Tension soared within her, as if transforming every part of her into brittle rock. “Someone was following me—”
“I was following you,” Arthur said impatiently.
Banging sounded on the door.
Again
“Dio mio,” Gabriella murmured.
Madeline’s chest tightened and she glanced at Arthur. “What have you done? You led them here!”
Arthur’s face was white. “I didn’t intend to do so. I swear.”
“It’s my fault,” Gabriella said. “I’ll tell them I did it. I’m so sorry.”
“Nonsense,” Madeline said firmly. “That is so very sweet of you. But they saw me at the ball, and not you. Please, please don’t say anything. I could not bear anything to happen to you. Just…hide the bracelet,” Madeline told her companion.
Gabriella’s face was stricken, but she disappeared with it.
Madeline rose.
It was over. It was all over.
She’d been so hopeful she could arrive in Venice with all five jewel pieces.
And now the Costantini family would be left without a single one.
Tears prickled her eyes, but she held her head high. It had been a risk. She’d always known it.
Arthur swallowed hard, and his worry seemed to sweep over her. “I’ll do everything I can.”
Madeline closed her eyes. “There’s nothing you can do.”
This was real. She was going to go to prison.