Free The Ugly Duckling by Iris Johansen Page B

adults.”
    “She ran at me after her mother fell. She was hitting me.”
    “And you had to defend yourself against a four-year-old,” Gardeaux said dryly.
    “She might have recognized me. It was the second time. She saw me that afternoon in the caves.”
    “You had goggles and a mask on,” Gardeaux said. “I don’t like excuses. Now, admit that you were frustrated and needed to strike out at something, and I’ll forgive you.”
    “I guess I … maybe I was mad,” he mumbled.
    “Now, wasn’t that easy?” Gardeaux leaned back in his chair and lifted his wine to his lips. “Just admit your faults and everything goes well. The child was a mistake but not a consequential one. The woman has been taken to a hospital in the States and will live. You’ll have to rectify that prognosis if you think she may recognize you now.” He paused. “She was taken there by Nicholas Tanek. I hardly think it a coincidence that he was there on Medas. Which leads me to the conclusion that we might have an informant in our midst. Do you suppose that you could seek out and eliminate that informant without making another blunder?”
    Maritz nodded eagerly.
    “I hope so,” Gardeaux said gently. “This is very distressing to me. If you should disappoint me again, I’d have to find a way to distract myself.” He covered a yawn. “How do you think your knife would fare against Pietro’s sword?”
    He moistened his lips. “I’d carve him to pieces.”
    Gardeaux shuddered. “Hand weapons are so brutal. That’s why I prefer the grace and romance of a sword. I often think I must be the reincarnation of a Medici. I fear I was never meant for this age.” He smiled at Maritz. “And neither were you. I see you riding behind Attila the Hun.”
    Maritz was vaguely aware this was an insult, but he was too relieved to complain. He had seen what Pietro had done to the last man Gardeaux had ordered him to fight. “I’ll find him.”
    “I know you will. I trust you, Paul. All you needed was a little clarification.”
    “And I’ll go after Tanek too.”
    “No! How many times must I tell you that Tanek isn’t to be touched?”
    “He gets in your way,” Maritz said sulkily. “He causes you trouble.”
    “And will be disposed of in time. My time. You’ll not touch him. Do you—”
    “Daddy, look what Mama gave me.” Gardeaux’s youngest daughter ran out on the terrace, waving a pin-wheel. “The wind turns it and it goes faster and faster.”
    “I see, Jeanne.” Gardeaux lifted the six-year-old to his lap. “And did she give one to René as well?”
    “No, René got a puppet.” She nestled closer. “Isn’t it pretty, Daddy.”
    “Almost as pretty as you,
ma chou
.” He set the pin-wheel spinning.
    The little girl had shining brown hair and looked a little like Nell Calder’s daughter, Maritz thought. But then, most kids looked alike to him.
    “Go away, Paul,” Gardeaux said without looking at him. “I’ve already robbed my wife and children of too much time. Come back when you can give me good news.”
    Maritz nodded. “Soon. I promise you.” He ran down the steps that led to the garden. Gardeaux never liked them to go through the house. He was afraid they would run into his wife or children and dirty them, he thought sourly. In fact, he never liked them to come to Bellevigne at all except as security during one of his highfalutin parties. That was why Maritz had been surprisedwhen Gardeaux had called him when he had returned from Medas and told him to come.
    Surprised and frightened.
    He crossed the drawbridge and looked back at the chateau. He didn’t like being scared. He couldn’t remember when he’d last felt that panicky terror. When he was a kid, maybe. Before he’d found his talent, before he found the knife. After that, everyone had been afraid of
him
.
    They were still afraid of him. The woman had been afraid. She had fought but she had been terrified.
    The woman. He would have another chance at