12
After a few short blissful days at her new home, Henrietta was awakened by her dashing husband. “But we just…”
“Shhh. I know. We’re sneaking out.”
“Why?”
“In case the Black Diamond has an informant in our midst. Here. I have some clothes for you to put on.”
She picked up the shirt and trousers. “You want me to wear these?”
“I do. Now hurry. I have a cravat we can use to help disguise some of your more, um, obvious feminine attributes.”
“But what about my hair?”
“We’ll tuck it under a cap.”
“Our trunks?”
“I already sent them ahead with my valet and your maid. They are to meet us in France at our designated location.”
“Can they be trusted?”
“I believe so, but we shall be careful. I suspect once we are out of the country, the threat will no longer be an issue. You wanted to visit the Continent; hopefully this will be an enjoyable adventure.”
“A tale for our children someday.” She slid on the pants, and he assisted with binding her chest. Once dressed and her hair obscured he handed her an older long, dark coat. She pulled on her boots which would probably pass for a man’s given the larger size of her feet. She stood before him. “Well? Do I pass?”
He shook his head. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Why?”
“You tempt me to delay our trip, and we cannot afford that. I’ll need to treat you as a man.” He handed her a gun to tuck into her pocket. “Ready?”
“As ready as I could be, I suppose.”
They sneaked out the back door and past the barn to a side lane where a carriage awaited.
Michael came forward to greet them. “Come, we must hurry.”
After climbing into the carriage, it jerked to a start and soon they were on their way.
“Anything else I need to know about our journey?”
“Hopefully not.”
Upon reaching the coast they left the horses and carriage at an inn, grabbing a bite to eat before taking off on foot through some woods.
Sir Michael led the way through a clearing to a rundown building with the door partially off its hinges.
Once inside Henri recoiled at the amount of dust and the sight of a mouse running for cover. She restrained herself from screaming. The day had grown quite warm, so they all took off their coats. A moth-eaten mattress was on a pallet in the corner and two rickety chairs were near the empty fireplace.
“I think you minimized the austerity of our lodgings, Michael,” she griped.
Charles stretched his coat across the mattress. “Get some rest. We’ve a long night ahead.”
“You want me to sleep here?”
“The floor is probably filthier, and at least this has some cushion.”
“What about you?”
“Michael and I will sleep in the chairs, each taking turns at keeping a watch out for suspicious activity.”
She turned toward the knight. “This really is what you do for a living?”
Sir Michael put his finger up to his lips. “Shh. The less you understand the safer you are.”
“Charles, this isn’t the normal work you do?”
“No. I’ve as much experience as you do with eavesdropping for our country and that’s as far as it’s gone until now.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ll explain more when we are across the channel.”
She sat down and curled up on her husband’s coat. At least there was that barrier between her and whatever was in that sorry excuse for a mattress. She soon fell asleep.
~*~
Charles and Michael stood outside, whispering.
“I’m still not convinced of the wisdom of this plan.”
Michael stared at him. “It’s really too late to turn back now.”
“There is always a choice.”
“Staying puts your wife at risk as well as yourself.”
“If anything happens to me…”
“I’ll ensure she gets to safety. But nothing will go wrong.”
Charles sighed. “You want first watch?”
“Sure. Get some sleep.”
Charles returned to the cabin and rested. After two hours, Michael woke him and then slumped in the chair to take his own rest. Charles paced outside the cabin and kept an eye on the mostly wooded terrain. There was a view to the channel though and no dock there. How were they getting out of here? Anxiety welled within him. Lord, help me to rest in You. Protect Henrietta. Somehow see this evil defeated in England.
Darkness fell later than any of them would have preferred. They feasted on some fruit, cheese, and bread that Michael had brought. “You’ll need to wait until we get to France for the good brandy,” Michael joked.
Soon they were headed out to the water as a small fishing vessel rowed in to them.
“That is taking us to France?” Henrietta gasped.
“It may not be the most comfortable, but it is the least noticeable,” Michael assured her.
Light came from the woods in the form of a torch. “Get her in the boat. Fast,” Charles whispered to Michael. The knight nodded and dragged Henrietta to the boat. Charles rushed at the intruder who dropped the torch as they wrestled to the ground. Charles managed to get the advantage. He grabbed the man by his cravat. “Tell your master that his virginal sacrifice is now my wife.”
“Where is she?”
Charles shook his head and the man struggled again. A knife appeared and sliced into his back shoulder before he could escape its edge. Charles inhaled sharply at the stinging pain and let the man go. A gunshot echoed through the night, whizzing past his ear. The man’s eyes went wide with surprise as he collapsed to the ground. Charles winced and checked him. No pulse. He ran to the boat.
As Michael pulled him in, Charles whispered, “Thanks for the assist.”
Michael shook his head. “Wasn’t me.” His eyebrows raised and he nodded toward Henrietta.
Pain seared through Charles’s back. Henri’d likely be unhappy about this disruption to their departure. He wasn’t too thrilled either. He fell into the spot next to his wife. “Thank you, my dear.”
“You’ve been wounded.” She started to peel off his coat.
“Just a little.”
“Thought you liked the truth?”
“Is it serious?” He began to feel the blood oozing out. He untied his cravat and handed it to her. She pressed it against his shirt, and he ground his teeth against the pain.
“Silly man. Good thing I excel at stitching. Looks as though you’ll need a few.”
Charles didn’t remember any more of the journey.
~*~
Light footsteps moved around the room. His shoulder ached, and his shirt was damp. Covers weighed him down.
“At least he’s not a grumpy invalid.”
His wife. But who was she talking to?
He forced his eyes open. “Henrietta?”
She came to the bed and sat next to him. Surely she surpassed angels in beauty.
“What happened?” His voice was raspy to his own ears.
“I’ll explain later when you’re better. You’ve been sick, and we are in Paris. We arrived last night. Be careful not to move your left arm as we don’t want you to rip your stitches. That scar will likely be your first souvenir of our maiden travel as husband and wife.”
Now he started to remember. The journey south and the attack. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Taking such good care of me.”
“You and Lord Hughes tried to convince me we would do well together, and I finally agree he is correct. But don’t ever do anything so silly again or it might be you I shoot next time.”
Charles grinned at her. “Anything you say, sweetheart.”
“That’s more like it. We’ll see how agreeable you are when we wean you off the laudanum.”
“Come here.”
She bent forward.
He pulled her closer with his right arm and gave her a kiss to let her know without a doubt that he loved her. He expected a lifetime ahead filled with adventures in loving this woman.
Thank You, Lord.