There was a wistfulness in her voice then, a note of pleading, and I saw that they were bound by strong emotion. I wondered if the bickering between them was simply the result of being too much in one another’s pockets.
Madame smiled at her. “You take good care of me, Agathe, sometimes against your will, I think.”
Agathe pierced her with a look. “How can you say such a thing to me? Have I not been devoted to you?”
Madame sighed. “Of course you have. But you do not trust me. Always with the lectures and the harsh words, as if I were a child to be scolded when it is I who will be the making of us!”
Agathe tightened her mouth further still, but the disapproval was writ upon her face. Madame gave a harsh little laugh.
“I know you do not approve. But this time it will be different, Agathe.” Her dark eyes fixed again upon her own reflection and she touched her face, as if to trace lines that would soon be visible. “This may be my last chance to secure my future, our future,” she said, her eyes burning brilliantly. She spoke slowly, her voice pitched low, as if more to herself than her sister. “Security, Agathe. At last. For both of us. You must trust me.” Her eyes flew once more to her sister’s, but Agathe would not meet her gaze.
“And still you will not tell me anything? I must learn of your affairs by eavesdropping like a maid?”
Madame laughed again. “I know you too well to think you would approve, Agathe! Oh, do not look so stricken. Once my plans come to fruition, I can tell you everything and you will see that all shall be well. Soon we will live like queens! Now, run down and set us a table in the supper room. I will be down in a moment.”
Agathe did as she was ordered and a moment later, after scenting herself heavily from a flacon on the dressing table, Madame trailed along. I counted to one hundred as Brisbane eased himself out of the hidden passageway. He crossed the room in quick, silent strides, drawing his lockpicks from his pocket as he moved. The casket was open before I reached his side, and he rifled quickly through the papers before swearing almost inaudibly. He put them back as he had found them and then replaced the lid and locked it again, a skill that required extreme dexterity and experience. I kept watch whilst he searched the rest of the room, so neatly that even the eagle-eyed Agathe would not suspect it. He rapped softly for hidden panels, searched under carpets and the undersides of drawers. He felt along the back of the smaller looking-glass and inside the springs of the recamier sofa. He even stuck an arm up the chimney, but he turned up nothing, and since I did not know what we were searching for, I was of little help. The most I could do was keep a sharp ear cocked for a sound upon the stairs, and after perhaps half an hour, I heard it. I waved frantically at Brisbane, but he calmly replaced the carpet over the floorboard he had been testing and grabbed my hand, whirling me into the hidden passageway just as the door opened.
Madame entered, followed hard by a pleading Agathe. “What is it? You must let me call a doctor!”
Madame was doubled over in pain, scarcely able to walk. Her complexion was pale and her brow beaded with sweat. She fell upon the recamier sofa, drawing her knees to her chest and moaning softly. “Oh, what have I eaten? What has done this to me? I am so cold, Agathe!”
Agathe fluttered around her sister, wringing her hands. “I am sending for the doctor,” she repeated. Madame gave no sign that she heard her. She shivered and shuddered with convulsions. Agathe snatched up a robe and covered her sister with it before fleeing from the room, calling out to Beekman the porter as she ran. She was gone a long time, or perhaps it just seemed so as we crouched there in the hidden passageway. Madame was sick, comprehensively so, and there was no basin at hand. She did not seem to know or care, and when she began to moan, great gasping moans, I rose as if to go to her. Brisbane’s hand held me fast, gripping mine so hard I thought surely the bones must crack. I looked up and he gave a sharp shake of the head, his black hair tumbling over his brow. I moved to push past him, for Madame was in deadly distress now, but Brisbane would have none of it.
Without a sound, he reached down, looping one strong arm around my chest to hold me fast against him. When he spoke, his lips against my ear, his voice was a harsh whisper. “We can do nothing but watch.” I made to resist, but he tightened his grasp. I watched then, his hand hard against my mouth, stifling my little cries of horror, as Madame’s life ebbed away. She was dying and there was nothing that could be done for her. It happened slowly, as if in a dream, and I knew that I should remember each of those terrible minutes for as long as I should live. I saw her writhe and cry out, and I watched her fall silent as she slipped into the coma, the sleep of death. And I witnessed Agathe, bursting in with the doctor to find her there, the light of life completely extinguished.
Madame was not beautiful in death. Her eyes were only half-closed and her mouth was slack and stained with sick, and I saw it all through the veil of unshed tears. I saw Agathe fall to the floor, sobbing into her sister’s skirts, and I saw the doctor searching fruitlessly for a pulse. I saw him close Madame’s eyes and drape a shawl over her face, and I saw him draw Agathe from the room, consoling the grief-stricken woman.
When they had gone, Brisbane hauled me roughly to my feet and shoved me along the passageway, back the way we had come. I stumbled down the stairs, and if he had not had hold of my collar, I would have fallen heavily. But he pulled me to my feet and when we reached the spirit cabinet, he paused. With his thumbs, he wiped at my cheeks.
“You must bear up, Julia,” he said. “This next bit is the most dangerous. I will do everything I can to get you out of here safely, but you must follow my orders instantly and without question.”
I nodded and he eased a finger through the velvet drape to peer through. He ducked back immediately, shaking his head to signify that someone was in the room. He motioned for us to go back the way we had come. We slipped into Madame’s room, and I kept my eyes studiously averted from the draped figure on the sofa. Brisbane tried the door, swearing softly.
“Locked. From the outside.”
“Pick it!” I ordered. I had no desire to spend the night trapped in a room with a fresh corpse.
He shook his head. “No time. They might return at any minute. There’s no help for it. We must take the window.”
He moved directly to the window, easing aside the heavy velvet drapes. There was a small bit of coping outside, surely not enough to support him, but he opened the window and flung a leg over the sill, testing the stone with the tip of his boot.
“Brisbane! You’re mad. You will be dashed to the stones below,” I warned him.
He fixed me with a quelling look. “Instantly and without question,” he reminded me. “Now, climb onto my back and hold tight. You might want to close your eyes.”
I did as he suggested, clinging to him with all of my might and never once daring to look down. To my astonishment, he did not descend when we quit Madame’s room. He went up, climbing the wall until he reached the mansard roof above. He ducked his head and gestured for me to climb over him. My limbs trembled, but I did as he commanded, finding myself atop the roof of the Spirit Club. Alone. I threw myself at the edge of the roof to see what Brisbane was about, and to my horror, realised that he was climbing back down to secure the window and remove all traces of our departure. I huddled on the roof, too numb even to pray, shivering in the cool night air as my head swam from the height. There was a sliver of a moon, and I kept my eyes fixed upon that as I waited. At last, he sprang onto the rooftop, dropping lightly to his feet.
“Oof,” was the noise he made as I flung myself at him.
“Brisbane, you are never to do such a thing again,” I commanded. “You frightened me half to death. It was far too dangerous and I forbid it. Do you hear me? I forbid it.”
I was babbling, but to his credit, he merely enfolded me