The French House by Helen Fripp (ebook reader with highlight function TXT) 📕

it, afraid to move. He put his arm around her and his face came into focus. She froze in terror – Châtelet, Moët’s man!

‘Hold on to both sides of the ladder. Find the bottom rung and climb before you freeze to death and the water catches up with us,’ he urged.

Natasha stretched her arms out above her. ‘Look at me, don’t look back. Just climb.’

She heaved herself up. The rungs were slick with green slime, the ladder was vertical and every muscle cramped, but she wasn’t going back in that water. At the top, she collapsed on dry ground and shook uncontrollably in Natasha’s arms.

Luckily, Natasha had been woken by the movement of the barge as the water level began to change and she realised Nicole was missing. As she’d searched for her on the deck, she saw Valentin grappling with a man, and heard Nicole’s screams.

‘It was Jean-Rémy…’ Nicole gasped urgently. Then, in case they hadn’t understood her meaning, added, ‘We have to leave – now!’

‘Shh, hush. Let’s get you dry and warm. I thought I’d countered all the bad omens, I must have missed one,’ said Natasha.

‘Never mind omens. Immediately, I said! We cannot miss the boat in Amsterdam.’

‘I know, we’ll go. It’s all settled, Valentin is going to help us.’

‘Valentin is Moët’s man! That turncoat is not coming near my shipment. He betrayed us! He’s not here is he?’

Natasha held up a hand. ‘Hush. Thérésa sent him on as soon as he was well enough to travel, and we can trust him now. He’s explained everything to me. We’ll get you fixed up, and just promise me you’ll hear him out. We need all the help we can get.’

In dry clothes, she stared into the wood burner in shock while Châtelet stoked it.

‘Let me help,’ he murmured.

‘Like you did before?’

‘Moët doesn’t know I’m here. I know the low-life fool who did this; it was one of his paid henchmen. He wanted to scare you,’ said Châtelet simply. ‘But even Moët wouldn’t have wanted to nearly kill you. His man is an ignorant blunderer – he’s known for it. Thank God I was here to deal with him – he won’t be bothering you any more. I knew Moët would try something desperate. I’m sure he’s convinced himself he’s doing you a favour by forcing you to give up your wine business.’

‘Favour! He’s a madman. Jean-Rémy never does anyone a favour, without taking something for himself! I’m not afraid, even now. And why should I believe you? Thanks to you he knew all my plans. To think that I actually felt sorry for you!’

‘Moët found me on his land, almost dead, running with lice and sores,’ said Châtelet. ‘He fed me, listened to my stories and took pity. I would have done anything for him, even stop a determined woman like you. He asked me a to find a way to gain the confidence of your man, Xavier. When he asked me to drive for you, Moët couldn’t believe his luck. Intelligence right from the inner circle…’ He eyed her apologetically. ‘Moët convinced me it was for your own good – that is, until I met you. You have a fire in you that I don’t want to be responsible for extinguishing and your daughter is the same age as mine was. Thérésa helped me get stronger and I came to find you – at a distance, because I knew Moët would try something.’

‘If he thinks I’m stupid enough, or weak enough…’ stuttered Nicole.

‘He thinks everyone is, compared to him,’ said Valentin. ‘Which is his weakness when it comes to you. You are a businesswoman. Use me, I can help.’

What the hell else was Jean-Rémy capable of? Of course she was afraid, all alone with an old Russian woman and a turncoat for company, but what other choice did she have?

Natasha narrowed her eyes at Châtelet. ‘I’ll be watching you. When you’re in sight and when you’re not.’

‘I expect nothing less of you, Madame. Judge my actions and you’ll see. I will make you three promises to help Nicole beat him. This much I can do, but it’s going to take a lot of her courage, too.’

‘She’s got plenty of that,’ said Natasha proudly. ‘Tell us your plan.’

First, Châtelet brought Nicole a shorn-off winch as proof of his fidelity. The sun was still not quite risen, so she and Natasha were able to creep unseen along the queue of barges to confirm his next piece of information. Holding the lamp closer to the barge inscription, it was as he told her: Moët et Compagnie, no doubt a cargo of champagne headed for Russia, covered by a tarpaulin.

Natasha tutted, ‘Love turned to hate is an ugly thing.’

Back on the barge, Nicole hastily emptied her purse, made ten neat, equal piles of coins, and waited.

Châtelet kept his third promise and returned with ten strong men from the local village. Their eyes widened at the coin stacks.

‘Not now. Afterwards, when every single crate is loaded. Get to work and if you are finished in an hour, this is yours.’

Her pocket watch always kept good time and Nicole checked it now. Eight hours before the ship sailed. If this went well, they’d make it easily. The men started work.

‘You’ve secured a boat at the bottom of the lock flight?’

‘As promised. It’s there.’

The shorn-off winch caught her thumb and the jagged edge drew blood. She dropped it next to the coins.

‘You’ve seen his barge isn’t going anywhere. No one can pass this point without a winch for the lock gates. It will take them all day to fix it. Do you trust me now?’ asked Châtelet.

She ignored him. ‘Guard the money,’ she said to Natasha as she scooped it up and placed it in the safe. Tucking the key in her secret pocket, she set off for the port authority cabin, the next part of Châtelet’s plan. It was a risk, but she took satisfaction in seeing Châtelet’s men heaving her crates down