Page 87 of Souvenir of Love

“Ousting all the members of a political party and imprisoning them? Surely, there are laws forbidding such a thing…”

“Laws,” the former minister said scornfully. “You speak of laws in the same breath as you speak of these animals? There were laws against murdering the king?—”

“You said your daughter was married to a Girondin,” Elizabeth persisted.

“He died last year.”

“Then she may be safe…unless…she, too, is a Girondin?”

“I don’t know her political views, or how publicly she’s expressed them,” the comte admitted stiffly. “We have not been on the best of terms in recent years. But,” he continued, “they will begin with the politicians, just as they began with the king and his loyal servants, such as I. The lust for revenge, for blood, inflames them, and then they’ll begin to move against the innocent…old men, children, women.” He shook his head and whispered, “I have seen it happen before.” He turned to James in anguish. “I should never have left her. I should have known?—”

“You could not have foreseen this?—”

“I was a fool to think she would be safe! And now…” The comte’s hands curled into fists. “Now I must go back.” He bowed to the company on the blanket as if he were exiting a drawing room. “Gentlemen, I am sorry to have put your lives at risk on my behalf, but I must do this.”

Marcus had been sketching; the graphite in his hand snapped.

“M’sieur le comte, if your daughter is in danger, may I ask how you intend to save her? Paris is a long way from here, and there are many checkpoints. Are you certain your disguise will suffice? A coachman from Rouen, without a coach, walking to Paris will certainly raise questions. And you are not in the best of health,” James said coldly, his polite patience abandoned.

Joley’s knuckles whitened.

“And if you are discovered attempting to reach your daughter,” James continued, “what then, monsieur? You willobliterate everything you have done to convince the world that you have turned your back on her—to convince the revolutionaries that she has nothing to do with the crimes with which you have been charged. Can you not see that she will be tarred with a brush far blacker than association with the Girondins?”

Joley unclenched his hands. Spreading them beseechingly toward James, he said, “What else can I do?”

“Continue on with us.Think, m’sieur.It’s only a matter of days before we reach London. By the time we arrive, Grenville’s networks will have a clearer idea of what has occurred in Paris. They may even have word of your daughter’s whereabouts. You will be safe,andyou will have access to the resources and to the people who can help bring your daughter safely out of France.”

“But aren’t you those people? I know you are rescuing me for the sake of your government, and I know her life means nothing to your master. But…I can pay. Enough to make any one of you—all of you—wealthy men.” His hooded gaze swept over the faces of the men arrayed on the picnic blanket. “I have a fortune waiting for me in a bank in England.”

James stiffened. A fortune would lift the Dinsmores out of decades of debt, restore the duke’s estates to their former glory. There would no longer be any need for his sister to marry for money. “Might I remind you, monsieur, that you will only have access to the fortune you offer so freelyifyou reach England.”

“A written promise, then.” Joley looked wildly around the circle of men. “You there.” He pointed to Marcus. “You are never without paper or pen. Write it down that I, Amaury de Joley, Comte Verignac, swear upon my honor that I will reward the man who saves my daughter with a fortune.

“A fortune,” Joley repeated, his eyes bright. “Surely there is one amongst you who has need of a fortune?”

He could marry Elizabeth and support her in a manner her high-and-mighty brother could not disparage.Only the method he came by it—placing his needs above the mission. Jeopardizing the lives of the men he’d been entrusted to lead.“Come, M’sieur le comte, do not demean yourself or my men with bribes,” he said coldly.

“Demean myself, Dinsmore?” Joley’s laugh was bitter. “I have been hiding in a hole like an animal. I am abandoning my own child in the face of terrible troubles. Could anything debase a man’s honor more?”

“Enough,” James barked.

“She’s my child.” Joley’s voice was close to breaking. “She’s alone in Paris. Surrounded by madmen.My only child.”

Marcus released the shards of graphite still clutched in his hand, rose, and said, “I’ll go.”

“It’s Elizabeth, isn’t it?”Jervis Jones said as soon as he entered the library.

Rafe leaned forward across his desk. “Have you heard gossip belowstairs?”

Jervis shook his head. “Not the slightest whisper.” Then he tapped the side of his long nose. “I’ve been with you long enough to know, when your eyes cloud up like somebody’s stirred the muck at the bottom of the pond, there’s trouble. And the source of trouble’s usually Lady Elizabeth.”

Rafe ran a tired hand through his tawny hair. “I can’t seem to rid myself of this sense of unease. These letters, they keep coming, but something about them is just not right.” He shook his head slowly. “Maybe she really is there, visiting. I was hoping… I am still hoping… But now I must know for certain that she’s not gone off with Dinsmore. She’s been following afterhim since she was a child. Part of me has always known she’d find a way to be with him.”

“A suspicious mind’s a useful tool when you’re dealing with that one.” Jervis stroked his chin.

“Dinsmore or Elizabeth?”

Jervis shook his graying head. “He’s a clever one, Dinsmore, but I was talking about Elizabeth. The man who marries her will have to keep his wits about him. Or be so old as to have no wits at all.”