Page 48 of The Redemption of the Shrew

“It is a lie,” he said.

“Of course it’s a lie,” she cried, her mind whirling. “But—But . . .” Oh, God.

“Fortunately, I have friends in excellent standing, none of whom have access to government and military secrets, so I was not immediately clapped in irons,” Philippe said. “Julian Kerr explained his lordship’s grudge against me to the Home Office, and others, such as Freddy Barnham and his father, support me as well, but Hythwick is a powerful man who cannot be completely ignored.”

Gloriana felt the blood drain from her face. She swayed . . .

She started awake. She found herself in a chair by the fire, Sophie chafing her hands while Philippe paced before them.

“Ah, voilà,” Sophie said. “She wakes!”

“I—I fainted?” Gloriana faltered. “I never faint.” She struggled to sit up straight.

“And yet you did, right into my brother’s arms,” Sophie said. “So now you must rest and stay calm. What happened, Philippe?”

“I told her about being denounced as a spy,” he said. “But I also told her I was safe for now, so . . .”

“No, you didn’t,” Gloriana said. “You are not safe. I see it on your face and in your eyes.” She pictured him being hanged, and dizziness threatened again. “They will execute you.”

“Non, non,” Sophie said. “This is not France under Robespierre. Sir Julian will not let it happen.”

Gloriana shook her head. Julian didn’t have that sort of power. She clutched the arms of the chair, forcing herself to stop dithering and concentrate. “Why are you still here, Philippe? You must flee England at once!”

“Like a frightened rabbit?” The haughty aristocrat in him came to the fore. “I am not a spy, but I am still a Frenchman. I shall not cower before these English fools.”

“Powerful English fools,” Gloriana said.

He snapped his fingers. “That for the powerful English. What would happen to Sophie and the children if I ran away? Such a departure, if it becomes necessary, must be planned.”

“I’ll take care of them.” Gloriana ran a still shaking hand over her face. “Please, Philippe—”

“You are kind, my dear friend,” Sophie said, “but it has not yet come to that. Tell her, Philippe.”

“I am not yet in danger,” he said. “Sir Julian has advised me what steps to take. The first was to remove myself from my lodgings in town, for a few residents of the same building are in government employ. I am not and never have been friendly with them, but it seems wise to keep my distance.”

“You are innocent,” Sophie said. “It is most unfair.”

“Life is not often fair,” he said. “I am luckier than many. My head still rests upon my shoulders.”

“What other steps did he advise you to take?” Gloriana asked.

“I must not change my name to Bonaventure. I am stuck being a marquis at least until the war is over.” He rolled his eyes. “I must cease to attend philosophical discussions about freedom and equality. This I accept. What fun are such meetings if I can no longer dispute with Miss Gloriana Warren?”

“You didn’t attend all those meetings because of me,” she retorted.

His lip curled ever so slightly—whatever that meant. “I shall complete a grand tome about education instead and publish it once the war is over.” He paused. “Another step is to cease all contact with smugglers between England and France. I hope to be able to do so soon.”

“You must do it now,” Sophie said.

Gloriana frowned. “You told me you are no longer a thief.”

“The continued contact is for personal reasons,” he said austerely. In other words, none of your business.

Sophie was not so restrained. “It is for nothing!” She seemed close to tears. “Your life matters more.”

Gloriana looked from one to the other of them, wondering. She had never seen the Frenchwoman so distressed.

“Why must you be so stubborn?” Sophie cried.