"Hold on!" he warned Julienne as they clattered over the cobblestones.
She hoped Pritchard wouldn't risk shooting for fear of hitting the multitude of carriages and riders surrounding them. And Dare seemed to be drawing away…
Julienne's breath was ragged by the time their mad dash ended at the spectacular gardens. Dare had to slow their pace as he plunged into the crowds congregating on the elegant esplanades.
The vast acreage of the Tuileries was formally laid out with wide, paved paths flanked by lush flower beds and neatly trimmed shrubbery. Numerous fountains and statuary and tall shade trees completed the adornment, with an occasional pavilion artistically erected here and there.
The numbers of merrymakers were smaller than Julienne expected, perhaps because the French populace had accepted the return of the Bourbons without enthusiasm. But the mass grew more dense as they neared the parade passing in front of the palace. Evidence of the new regime showed in the uniforms of the cavalry troops and the horses whose bridles sported white Bourbon cockades.
She and Dare received countless stares as they doggedly made their way toward the main entrance, but when they crossed the columns of the parade, they were showered with angry oaths and denunciations.
Reaching the other side, where he quickly halted, Dare swung his right leg forward over the pommel and sprang down, then turned and caught Julienne by the waist and set her on her feet. Taking her hand, he quickly pushed through the crowd and up a curving sweep of marble steps, hoping to gain access to the royal residence.
Julienne's pulse was racing as Dare pulled her behind him, and she barely had time to glimpse the famous palace. The building itself was large and rather cumbersome, with long, narrow wings and high roofs and countless arcaded windows. Here Louis XVI and his queen, Marie Antoinette, had been held under house arrest for nearly three years before a hostile mob stormed the palace and killed more than a thousand guards, taking the royals to the Temple prison, where they would live out the rest of their lives.
The fact that the current guards bristled with muskets and blunderbusses and sabers, however, suggested the new king preferred to take no chances that his subjects might become as unruly as his late brother's.
The king's household troops refused them admittance until Dare showed his invitation. They were permitted inside just in time, Julienne realized, for Captain Pritchard came charging up the steps, hard on their heels.
"Miss Laurent, halt! You are under arrest, I tell you!"
The guards blocked his entrance as Julienne swiftly asked in French where Lord Castlereagh might be found.
They were escorted through the palace to the royal audience chamber. Knowing they could be too late, Julienne felt anxious fear well inside her as she and Dare made their way through the cavernous halls. They passed an endless number of arches and massive stone columns before arriving at a grand room that was three stories high, with lofty, curved ceilings and railed galleries above.
Julienne halted in dismay at seeing the size of the crowd. In this packed chamber, a killer could easily strike and fade away undetected.
"What should we do now?" Julienne asked Dare, raising her voice to be heard over the din of the laughing, chattering guests bent on celebrating.
"Follow our original plan," he replied. "Locate Perrin
e but try to keep from being seen ourselves. By now he probably thinks he's taken care of us, that you've been arrested and that I'm on a rampage to try to get you released. Do you have the pistol I gave you?"
"Yes," Julienne said after glancing down at her reticule. Surprisingly it was still attached to her wrist.
"We should separate." Dare's gaze surveyed the gallery above. "You'll be safer up there, and you can better watch for Perrine."
"Dare, my safety is not my first concern."
Raising his fingers to her face, he gave her cheek a light caress. "I know, but it is mine. I'll stay near Castlereagh in case Perrine acts."
"Please, be careful," Julienne begged.
"You, as well."
He grasped her face and planted a hard kiss on her mouth, then left her to enter the audience chamber. For a moment she saw him skirt the crowd before he disappeared in the sea of bodies.
Turning, Julienne retraced her steps till she located a wide stairway that led to the upper floors. She chose the west gallery over the others, since it lay in shadows, and moved behind a column so she could covertly view the throng below.
The perspective was far better up here. The king stood out like a peacock in his magnificent costume. Louis XVIII, whom Julienne had heard described as gouty and clumsy as well as courteous and genial, beamed as he mingled among his distinguished guests. She saw numerous dignitaries, as well: Alexander, Metternich, Frederick. And, to one side, Lord Castlereagh.
Her heart beginning to thud, Julienne searched for Martin Perrine. There was no sign of him, but she spied Dare, partly hidden behind a column, his fair hair gleaming as he conversed with several members of the French aristocracy. He had lost his tall beaver hat in the wild ride, she realized for the first time. And he had positioned himself with a clear view of Castlereagh, who stood near the buffet table.
The table groaned with delicacies. Even from a distance she could make out crab patties and sugared grapes and small, frosted cakes among the ice sculptures formed in the shape of busts, including a large centerpiece of King Louis.
A score of footmen moved about the room with difficulty, offering glasses of wine and champagne. And stationed at frequent intervals were both French and British soldiers, all armed.
She saw nothing, however, of the man they feared was a ruthless assassin. When Dare glanced up at her briefly and met her gaze, Julienne gave a slight shake of her head to communicate her lack of success.