Rook(83)

“I cannot think of anything I would enjoy more, Miss Bellamy,” she said, spreading sarcasm like the marmalade on her breakfast roll. “Though I think it a strange time for a party, with your brother going to the Razor at dawn.”

Sophia cringed inside. Tom would not be going anywhere near the Razor, but the words hurt just the same. “I believe René thought it would be a distraction for me.”

“And we will have the mob on us tonight, when the Seine Gate opens,” Madame stated. “Really, the timing in all this is impeccable.”

Spear had been engrossed in the newspaper, which he now folded in half and handed to Sophia over the table. “Pages two and six,” he said.

“My son, is it?” said Madame Hasard knowingly. “You have been making the papers again, I see!” she called across the room. “A trial to the heart of your mother!”


“I was taught by the best, Maman!” René yelled.

Sophia handed the paper back to Spear. “I’ll just take him a coffee,” she said. “He can be so irritable first thing, don’t you think?” She ignored Madame’s raised brow as she moved across the gleaming floor, skirt rustling and cup in hand, to sit on the edge of the settee next to René’s prostrate form.

“She will come,” René said quietly, hidden by the couch back, “and will put herself in the thick of things. So we must consider that in our plans.” He put an arm behind his head and gave the cup she handed him a dubious glance. “Is it safe?”

“You are so witty.” She let her loose hair fall down, hiding her face from the side view. “I dreamed last night that I was in a linen closet.”

“Did you?” He stealthily took her hand, cup and saucer balanced on his stomach, and pressed her fingertips to his lips. “And was this a good dream, my love?”

She closed her eyes for just a moment, hoping no one at the table could see her expression. “You bruised my lips.”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “I am very sorry.”

“You are not sorry at all.” She thought she could feel the gaze of Madame Hasard. And possibly Spear. “Your maman was in my room last night.”

“And I was not.” His tone was glum.

“It is so frustrating not to be able to hit you when I want.”

“Just wait for the party, my love.” He swung his dangling feet back and forth over the end of the settee. “Benoit says Hammond left the flat before the luggage came up last night, and that he did not return until dawn. Did he have business in the city?”

Sophia darted a quick glance at the table while René sipped his coffee. Spear and Madame Hasard appeared to be deep in conversation.

“There were some tickets to be taken care of. But I don’t think he could have done that at night. How did he get in again?”

“The back stairs, which he unlatched. From the other side.”

“Did he?” Sophia looked again at Spear. How had he managed that?

“I think you are very beautiful,” René said, “especially when you are admiring mischief.”

“You must think that every time I look at you, then.”

He gave her all of his grin. “You admire me, Mademoiselle?”

She bit her lip against her laugh. “I am going to hit you whether your mother is watching or not.” She stole another look at the table and found Madame’s sharp gaze on her, watching their conversation. She moved her eyes to the other end of the room, where a tall display cabinet stood, taking up most of the wall. René nodded once, and Sophia got to her feet and strolled over to the cabinet to study its contents until he joined her.

Most of the cabinet showed pieces of decorative glass, plates, and goblets in jewel reds, blown into scallops and waving shapes like rippling water. There were even one or two fluid-looking human figures, some clear, some shot through with colors. But it was the plastic that amazed her. An entire bowl complete with lid in a beautiful, translucent green, a row of small, stylized human figures, and no less than eleven mirrored disks like Tom’s. And there was a miniature house. She knelt in front of this. A little like Spear’s farmhouse, only with a white roof and chimney, a large chunk missing from the upper corner. One side had faded almost completely, but where you could see it, the color was shocking. A vibrant pink, bright like a rose, or a hibiscus flower. What must the world have looked like in the Time Before, to have houses of such colors? You would have needed a shade for your eyes just to walk the streets. She felt René come up behind.

“Did you nick any of these?” she asked quietly.

“It is not wise to display what has been … acquired,” he replied.

“Of course not. So did you?”

“The bowl, and two of the little blue men. Foreign sellers, and not collectors, so very little danger in showing them here. And they were getting cheated by the melters. The blue is much more valuable than they were told.” He paused. “I spoke with Maman this morning about selling them.”

Sophia glanced over to see his expression, but it was sanguine.

“Getting their full value would take time, of course, and we would have to look outside the Sunken City, but we could get half the price quick. Maman seems to think, however, that we will need the money to live on. She has shut down Hasard Glass. For the time being. There is some worry whether the Upper City will survive the mob that will come through the gate at middlemoon. Uncle Peter and Uncle Francois have been here already; they run the factory more than our … other concerns. They are not happy. And yet Maman is right in this, I think, if not in other things.”