Taken by the Rake (The Scarlet Chronicles, #3)

by Shana Galen

  Even more, she feared she’d never see home.

  “Are you still upset?” she asked him quietly.

  “I don’t like what Ernestine is doing,” he said, holding the door of the building for her. A crisp breeze, tinged with the smell of death that always seemed present in Paris now, rustled her skirts. “But I cannot forbid her. Not when I would do the same in her place.”

  “She’s very brave.”

  “Yes, she is. She could have stayed hidden. The last I heard she was being cared for by the family of Madame de Soucy.”

  “Who is that?”

  “She was one of the royal governesses. The queen ordered her to take Mademoiselle de Lambriquet to safety when Robespierre came to power. Unlike the king, I believe Marie Antoinette always foresaw the turn events would take.”

  Honoria squeezed his arm. They passed men and women on their way to cafés or the market or to watch the day’s executions. Honoria caught snatches of conversation, almost all of them speculating on the queen’s trial. It had begun this morning and everyone was anxious for news.

  When they reached the wall surrounding the southern garden, Laurent positioned them in a corner behind a yew tree, where they wouldn’t be visible to any guards who peered down from the Temple. Fortunately, there were few windows in the large medieval structure. It had been built as a fortification, not for comfort or beauty.

  Now all they had to do was wait until the others arrived. Laurent paced. “I don’t like standing here too long.”

  “They will be here soon,” she reassured him, but her heart thumped in her chest. The longer they stood here, hidden but still out in the open, the more at risk they were. She didn’t want to think about the towering prison above her. She didn’t want to think about going inside it. Honoria had the strange sense that once she went in, she would never come out.

  “I won’t leave him,” Laurent said, turning to face her.

  Honoria felt her breath catch. He could not mean what she thought he meant. “I don’t understand.”

  “The dauphin. I won’t leave him.”

  “But don’t you want to ensure Madame Royale has the best chance of escape?”

  “I want both of them to escape. What if the guards realize Mademoiselle de Lambriquet is not the princess? What if the rumors of abuse the dauphin suffers are true? I cannot leave him. This might be our only chance. Marie-Thérèse would not want me to leave him.”

  This was sheer madness, but it was no more daft than the original plan. And if he would go back for the dauphin, she would go with him. “I’ll go with you.”

  “I won’t ask that of you,” Laurent said.

  “Nonsense. Where you go, I go.”

  He nodded. “If things go awry, I don’t want you to take any chances. Save yourself.”

  Foolish man. As though she would ever abandon him when he needed her. “Laurent,” she said quietly. He stopped pacing and looked at her. “You once asked me why I came to France, why I left the safety of England behind.”

  He nodded.

  “It was for this. It was because I wanted to show everyone, and myself, that I was more than what you see on the outside. God may have given me beauty, but he gave me courage, loyalty, and a bit of audacity too. I will stand with you.”

  His eyes softened. “You are all of that and more, the most loyal person I have ever known. So much more than a pretty face.”

  “Laurent, in case I do not have a chance to say it later—”

  He held up a hand. “No adieux.”

  “But later you will be with the dauphin and the princess on the way to Vienna. I may not have a chance to say goodbye.”

  “Then perhaps we don’t say goodbye. We will meet again.”

  She scowled at him. “You know that isn’t true.”

  He placed a hand on his heart. “I made you two promises—I’d never let you fall, and I wouldn’t lie to you. I’m not lying now.”

  “And if our plan fails, then I suppose we meet again on the scaffold.”

  He took her hand and held it to his heart. “I won’t let you fall, Honoria. Believe me.”

  She opened her mouth to reply, but they heard footsteps and both turned. Sir Edward appeared. “Three here, two more tae come,” he said.

  Feeling even more exposed now, Honoria tapped her foot impatiently. Laurent had released her hand, but the warmth of his hand still made her skin tingle.

  Finally Lord Anthony and Mademoiselle de Lambriquet appeared. Laurent immediately took charge. “We go over the wall one at a time. I’ll go first. As soon as you are over, make your way to the stone temple. Walk quickly, but don’t look like you’re walking quickly.”

  “How the devil do we do that?” Lord Anthony asked.

  Laurent ignored him. “I’ll meet you at the Temple. It won’t take long for me to know whether or not the guards have sealed the entrance.” He glanced at the other men. “Help the women over, then come yourself.”

  With those words, he jumped for the top of the stone wall, pulled himself up, and swung his legs over. A moment later, Lord Anthony cupped his hands, and Honoria put her foot in them for a boost. She too grabbed the top of the stone wall and struggled to make it over. She finally crawled over, then fell to the other side, landing in an undignified heap in Laurent’s arms. He set her down and she ran to the domed temple at the far end of the garden. It was under the shade of more yew trees, which gave them some protection from anyone who happened to look out. Laurent caught Ernestine as she came over the wall, and he motioned for her to follow him.

  Together, the three of them ran to the Temple. Laurent skirted behind it first and knelt on the ground. He’d pulled up the ground cover and scooped dirt away from a stone tablet in the earth.

  “Is that the entrance?” she asked.

  “Yes.” He tried to work his fingers into the groove at one end, but he couldn’t manage to lift it. With a huff he sat back.

  Lord Anthony approached, followed by Sir Edward. “Need help?”

  “It will take two of us.” He nodded to the stone tablet, using his foot to sweep more dirt away. “You take that corner, and I’ll take this.”

  The two men knelt, squeezing their fingers between earth and stone, Anthony at one side and Laurent at the other. “Un, deux, trois,” Laurent counted. Both men grunted and heaved. Honoria held her breath.

  The stone did not move. Lord Anthony’s face grew red as he pushed harder. “Come on,” he grunted.

  Laurent’s face was also red and pinched. The veins in his neck stuck out.

  Open, Honoria pled silently. Open.

  With a final groan, the men lifted the tablet and shoved it back. Stale air floated out along with dust. Cobwebs hung from the inside of the tablet, and spiders scurried out of the sun.

  “We did it,” Laurent panted.

  Honoria leaned over and looked down into the darkness. A narrow stone staircase descended into the gloom.

  “Go on now,” Sir Edward said, tossing a few stones into the darkness. They all listened to the sound they made when they hit bottom. It was a long drop but at least she hadn’t heard a splash. “I’ll keep watch on this side.”

  Honoria swallowed, watching as Laurent and Lord Anthony descended into the gloom. Ernestine followed. Finally, she was the only one left.

  “Go on doon, lass. Ye’ll dae fine.”

  Shaking with fear, Honoria took one last look at the garden, at freedom, and stepped into the passage.

  Twenty-One

  Laurent descended into the darkest recesses of the Temple. Down and down and down. Once he and Charles Philippe, the Comte d’Artois, had enjoyed exploring this passage and speculating on who had dug it and why.

  But that was after much wine and with servants holding lanterns to light their way. Now they had little more than his memory and the torch Mackenzie had brought with him.

  He reached the bottom and moved aside as Lord Anthony descended the rough steps hewn from rock. Next came Ernestine. Laurent held hi
s hand out to assist her. Finally, Honoria made her way down. Laurent wished, again, she had not come. She was necessary to the mission and a vital part of the plan, but he would rather she were back at the safe house or on a packet to England.

  He took her hand, holding it until she stepped off the stairs. He didn’t release it right away, even though the rest of the group was looking to him to lead them. Instead, he stared at Honoria, but he didn’t know what to say.

  Lord Anthony lit the reeds soaked in oil at the end of the torch and light blazed in the passageway. It looked much like Laurent remembered it, only with a thin layer of dust on the floor. If the National Guard had found it, they hadn’t explored it.

  “Ready?” Mackenzie called from above.

  “Ready,” Dewhurst answered.

  A moment later, the stone tablet thudded into place and the little light shining from the garden was cut off.

  “Monsieur?” Dewhurst said, indicating with his arm that Laurent should lead. Laurent released Honoria’s hand and started walking. The passage was narrow and did not have any forks, so all he had to do was follow it under the garden and into the Temple.

  “This will lead us into the dungeons?” Honoria asked.

  “Yes,” Laurent said. “You can feel it sloping down now. We will emerge into one of the cells.”

  “What about prisoners in the cells?” Ernestine asked.

  “All of our information suggests the only prisoners being kept at the Temple are the royal family, and they are on the upper floors of the Tower, not this medieval dungeon,” Dewhurst said.

  “The dungeons are in very bad shape,” Laurent informed them. “Artois refurbished much of the Temple, but he had no interest in repairing the towers or these dungeons. When I was here last, they leaked and some of the walls had begun to crumble.” He whispered, as did all of them, though it was unlikely anyone would have heard them under so much rock. The passage sloped steadily downward, causing him to lean back to keep his balance and slow his descent.

  “Who built the passage?” Honoria whispered.

  “I don’t know. Artois and I used to speculate it was a prisoner trying to escape because it opens into one of the cells. But it might have been the Knights Templar, who devised such an escape in case of siege or attack.” He paused and held the torch up. “We’ve reached the dungeons.” Laurent handed the torch to Dewhurst and knelt before the wall.

  “This doesn’t look promising,” Dewhurst muttered. “Looks like someone has walled up the exit.”

  Laurent bent and felt along the side of the wall.

  “Is there a mechanism to open it?” Ernestine asked. She’d spent enough time at Versailles to be familiar with secret passages and the hidden devices that opened their doors.

  “I just have to find it.” He hadn’t been down here for years, but he knew it was to the right and just under a protruding piece of rock. He ran a hand along the wall, but all of it seemed to protrude. Finally, his hand touched an opening. He reached inside with one finger and pulled the small metal lever back. With a creak, the wall parted from its seams.

  Unfortunately, it didn’t swing open as it had the last time Laurent had been down here. He stood and grasped the lip, pulling it open farther as the door creaked in protest. Finally, he had it open enough that even Dewhurst might pass through. He wiped his brow and took a breath.

  “That’s probably the hardest you’ve ever worked, isn’t it Monsieur le Marquis?” Dewhurst said.

  Laurent made a rude gesture.

  He led the small party into the dungeon, his booted foot landing in a puddle of cold water. “Watch the water on the floor,” he murmured, warning them of it. As he remembered, the passage opened into a cell in the back of the dungeon. It was cold and dark but for the light of the torch, and the only sound was the plop, plop of water.

  “Now what?” Honoria asked.

  “Now we wait,” Dewhurst said. He extinguished the torch and set it next to the passage doorway. “The guards should be changing right about now. At the next change, we make our move. I’ll light the torch periodically and check my watch.”

  Honoria sighed. “That’s hours from now.”

  Dewhurst chuckled. “Whoever said the League of the Scarlet Pimpernel was full of excitement never worked for the man. I spend half my life waiting.”

  The group of four spread out in the dungeon cell, the men pacing or sitting on the ground, while the ladies perched on seats carved from the stone. At one time a cot might have been provided to the prisoner and a bucket of water, but none of those basic comforts remained.

  Laurent hadn’t slept the night before, so he used the time to close his eyes. Leaning his head back against the wall, he rested and tried not to think about the long journey ahead of him with two royal children to protect.

  After a while Honoria came to sit beside him. He could feel her shivering, and he wrapped an arm around her. “Are you frightened or merely cold?”

  “Both,” she replied. “The longer we wait, the more frightened I become.”

  He squeezed her. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I won’t let you fall.”

  She put her head on his shoulder. “That’s what I’m afraid of. Don’t sacrifice yourself for me, Laurent. We are all here to save the princess and the dauphin. They are our first priority. If something should go wrong—”

  “It won’t.”

  “But if it should, leave all of us behind and save the children.”

  When he didn’t speak, she poked him in the ribs and looked him in the eye. “Promise me.”

  “I can’t make that promise, but I will promise to do all I can to make sure all of us make it out safely.” He leaned down and kissed her softly. “I wish you were far, far away from here,” he whispered so only she could hear. “You don’t belong in a dungeon.”

  “I quite agree,” she said. “But there’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now.” She laid her head on his shoulder again, and he leaned his cheek against her hair. The scent of lavender rose up, and he closed his eyes, trying to commit her scent and the feel of her body pressed against his to memory.

  Finally, Dewhurst, who had lit the torch two or three times over the course of the day, announced it was almost time to go. The party rose, stretched out legs and backs, and moved out of the cell and into the dungeon. Laurent motioned them to form a circle. “Ernestine, you haven’t studied the map I made as closely, so I’ll remind you that up those stairs and through the door is a workroom. It was where the knights stored herbs or provisions. If I remember correctly, it also has large tubs for washing. There might be maids working there when we go through. I’ll go first and take care of them. You two follow. Get off the ground floor as quickly as possible. It houses the National Guard stationed here. Dewhurst, wait at the top of the steps to receive Marie-Thérèse and take her through the passage to Mackenzie.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “You can escort her with me. Once we have her, we are done here.”

  Laurent inclined his head. “Of course.” He met Dewhurst’s gaze briefly, then looked back at the women. “Once we make sure no one is about, you two follow me. I’ll lead you to the Grande Tower. Keep your eyes down. Honoria, what do you say if someone asks what you are doing?”

  “Changing the prisoners’ linens, citoyen.”

  “Good. And if the guard answers that Citoyenne Capet washes her own linen. You say?”

  “Under orders of Citoyen Robespierre, I am to confiscate the linen of Citoyenne Capet and replace it with that of the republic.”

  He nodded. “Ernestine, if you are asked where the regular maids are?”

  “I say...Citoyen Robespierre replaced them with us.”

  Laurent nodded. “Last chance to change your mind, Mademoiselle de Lambriquet.”

  She shook her head. “Madame Élisabeth will not leave. I will not be alone, and even if I were, it is a small sacrifice to make.”

  Laurent took her hand. “I promise when this is over and you are out of d
anger, everyone shall know of your bravery and your sacrifice.”

  “I know”—she tapped her heart—“in here that what I do is right. That is all that matters.”

  “Ready?” Dewhurst asked. The three of them nodded. Laurent led them up the stairs and out of the dungeon.

  HONORIA COULD NOT TELL if it was the steep staircase or her fear that made it hard to breathe, but by the time she reached the door leading to the workroom, she could hardly catch her breath. Laurent opened the door and stepped inside. She and Ernestine waited until his all-clear sign, then filed in behind him.

  The room was just as he had described, with worktables in one corner and large tubs for washing at the far end. Long, thin windows let some light into the room, but it was already growing late and the light was gray at best. Aprons and linens hung from a clothesline. Honoria crossed to them and found them quite dry. They hadn’t been washed that day. She tossed one to Ernestine and tied one around her own waist as well.

  Lord Anthony came in behind them, surveyed the room, and seemed satisfied with what he saw. With a quick salute, he returned to the dungeons, closing the door behind him. Laurent lifted a hamper from beneath the garments on the clothesline, dumped what looked to her like table linens in it, and handed it to Ernestine. “Ready?” he asked.

  Honoria feared her voice would falter so she merely nodded. He looked so much like one of the National Guardsmen in his uniform that her heart thudded even harder than it had been. She took a deep breath, forcing her breathing to slow and her hands to cease shaking. When they refused to cooperate, she tucked them behind her skirts.

  She needn’t have worried. The first part of the mission went exactly as planned. They came across no guards on the way to the apartments housing the royal family. Presumably the bulk of them were at the entrance to the Temple, their concern being keeping the prisoners in and the mobs out. Laurent led the way with confidence. He did know the Temple very well, and should anyone have spotted them walking, they would not question that he belonged there.