Was there anyone in the whole of England or France that man didn’t know?
Jodoc pointed toward a small farmhouse in the distance. “That is my home. Come.”
Gus turned his horse in the direction he had originally been headed and followed his new friend.
In the fast-fading light, there was nothing he could do for Evangeline but pray that she would survive the night.
Chapter Sixteen
The drinking, fighting, and general mayhem lasted well into the evening. From her vantage point, Evangeline observed the goings-on with disgust. She had been blind to all this when Vincent first came into her world. He was a former officer, supposedly an educated man of social rank. Armand had even offered for him to dine with them at the château.
It hadn’t taken him long, however, to show his true colors. But by then she had already made a terrible mistake.
Tonight, she was going to correct that error. Erase it from her memory with searing heat and flames.
She searched the gathering; Vincent was nowhere to be seen. He hadn’t looked that badly injured at the château, just a little dazed. Perhaps he was lying low or more likely, in Lamballe at some whorehouse celebrating his victory.
Enjoy it because by the time I am finished, it will feel like ashes in your mouth.
Climbing to her feet, she picked up the saddlebags. The rifle she left behind. Then she dashed out from behind the bushes, sprinted across the open ground, and into the dark shadows of the farmhouse. With her back pressed against the stone wall, she waited and caught her breath.
The rowdy noise from the camp continued on unabated. No one had seen her.
Breathe and focus.
Her actions during the next few minutes could well mean the difference between success or facing a horrible death. Her heart thumped hard in her chest, adrenaline pumping through her veins at a fierce knot.
Toward the rear of the building was a small door. Taking great care so as not to make a sound, she tiptoed toward it. When the handle turned silently, she mouthed a silent ‘thank you’ to Vincent for ensuring that his men kept the campsite in military order. The lock and hinges had been well oiled.
Once inside, she quietly closed the door behind her.
The place was much the same as she remembered from her first and last visit. Crates of brandy were stacked high to the low wooden ceiling, ready for shipment to England.
Evangeline smiled at them. If things went according to plan, those bottles would never leave this place. They would burn.
She worked as quickly as possible, but it still took time to pull most of the crates apart and tip the brandy out. When that was done, she gathered as much straw and hay as she could find and piled it into the middle of the room. It reached the roof. The brandy fumes were so intense in the closed space that it made her cough. She was forced to cover her face with the top of her father’s coat in order to muffle the sound.
The last piece of work set before her was to leave a trail of gunpowder from the straw to the door and outside.
By the time she had emptied both saddlebags of their gunpowder, Evangeline had forty feet of fuse line between her and the farmhouse. It wasn’t much, but hopefully, it would be enough.
In the dark, flint stone in hand, she paused and considered the ramifications of what she was about to do. If the explosion went as well as she hoped, it would raze the building to the ground. If not, then at least a fire which resulted in considerable damage would follow.
Either way, Vincent would lose an entire shipment of brandy. He would also be without a place to store any future stock.
“That will teach you to come to my home and set a flame to my life.”
She struck at the flint, her eyes glistening as the spark caught. The gunpowder sizzled and popped. Then the trail of light was on its way.
Snatching up the saddlebags, she bolted for the woods. It was only when she was well clear of the trees, and in sight of Gobain, that the firstboomfinally rang out through the still of the night.
Reaching her horse, she threw the bags over him, then grabbed at her shoulder, searching for the strap of her rifle. Her fingers, however, touched only the wool of her coat. She spun around; mouth wide open in shock.
Another explosiveboomechoed. The night sky was suddenly filled with the angry glow of flames.
There was nothing she could do, no going back. After climbing frantically into the saddle, she dug her heels in hard. Gobain leapt away as Evangeline held on tightly to the reins.
“I am sorry, my beauty, but this time I am not going to spare you.”
