“Of course not. Forgive me.” Sophie moved away from the window and sat across from her friend.
“Sophie. What is it? Is it the pamphlet? It will die down. You’ve told me so yourself.”
Sophie nodded. “It’s true.” But what if she had crossed the line, she wondered. What if this time, she had made a mistake that could not be undone? She had berated herself for being rash, and this time she truly meant it.
“Sophie. It’s just a pamphlet,” Lizette said, shrugging as she reached for her teacup, and in those words, Sophie knew her dear friend did not understand.
Lizette was not educated and could not comprehend the power of words, as Sophie had begun to realize. It was in that moment that Sophie knew one thing with clear certainty: she would not stop writing. She could not. In fact, her next pamphlet would be even more bold.
The things she was learning and writing about must be relayed to the people of Paris and France. As she was educating herself, so she would educate them.
“Yes. You’re right. It’s just a pamphlet,” she said softly to appease her friend.
***
Her next pamphlet she titled “An Urgent Notice.”
She wrote that afternoon in haste as the ideas spilled from her.
“The state is ruined; it waits for its salvation from the French, or at least from those that are the wisest and most respected in the Kingdom. The Nation is troubled by internal discord. Tempers are rising, insistent once again, and all is becoming hopeless.”
She would not let fear rule her and she would not be concerned about an inspector making inquiries. She would be found or she would not be, but that would not be the deciding factor in her writings. She would not stop for fear of being caught.
She finished the pamphlet and let the ink dry on the page before she re-read it and rang for Marie.
When the maid appeared, Sophie gave her different instructions. “Give this to someone you trust, perhaps your ten-year-old nephew. Have him deliver it to the printer. D’accord?”
A frown appeared on Marie’s face but she nodded. “Oui, mademoiselle.”
Sophie breathed a sigh of relief. If the printer had been identified, they would be looking for a young maid, not a boy. She would keep Marie safe, if not herself.
***
Unbeknownst to Sophie, once Monsieur Blanche received the new pamphlet he and his apprentice worked during the day and night to have the “Urgent Notice” published and on the streets of Paris by the next morning.
Monsieur Blanche had received such a favorable response to the previous pamphlets written by Jean Inconnu that he had been excited to receive another one. He was not at all picky on the subjects that he printed, only that they aroused the people to think and perhaps make a difference.
He had his suspicions about the true identity of the writer but he didn’t give it much thought.
As the sun streaked across Paris, the pamphlet was being distributed and people were already talking about it.
***
Following a night of drink and cards at Juliette’s, Sebastian and Etienne walked through the quiet Paris streets. Sebastian rebuked himself for being distant and cold with the madam. He had completed the act, giving them both pleasure, but he was merely going through the motions. She was a woman who was willing and he enjoyed the release, but it was not fair to her. Every time he held her or touched her he ached to see alabaster skin and hazel eyes set in an oval face. He wanted long auburn hair falling down her back and her cool skin against his.
Eventually he would need to make a decision. He could not continue to use Juliette. It was wrong. In the past, they had each been a part of the sexual act and had enjoyed it. Now, it was simply a way for Sebastian to achieve release and nothing else. It felt hollow and empty.
Etienne said little as they walked and each man was deep in thought when Sebastian saw the pamphlet on the ground. Someone must have dropped it, he thought, and he picked it up as Etienne slowed beside him.
He read the words and they almost blurred in front of his eyes.
“Damn her!” he cursed lowly.
“What is it?” Etienne looked over at the harmless pamphlet that his friend had stooped to retrieve.
“Damn.” He cursed again, but this time louder and with more anger.
“What?” Etienne was confused.