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“Madame, wait!” he called.
She turned to look over her shoulder, to assure him she was fine, and when she looked back it was just in time to avoid colliding with the man who had stepped into the path. Angelette screamed as he raised something long and metallic-looking. She ducked quickly, feeling the whoosh of air past her ear as the weapon just missed colliding with her head. A jagged stone dug into her foot, but she ignored the pain and focused on righting herself. If she stumbled and fell, she would be dead. She moved to the side with little grace but managed to stay on her feet and to back up and out of the attacker’s reach.
“One of them is trying to escape!” the attacker called in French.
“Get out of the way,” Daventry ordered. The attacker brandished what looked like a poker at the viscount.
“Make me, English scum.”
With growing horror, Angelette realized the man blocking their path to the stables was no peasant. He wore her blue and gold livery. In fact, she knew him to be one of her footmen.
“Exactly what do you think you are doing?” she demanded. “Get out of my way.”
He sneered at her. “I don’t answer to you anymore, Angelette.”
She didn’t know what shocked her more. His insolent tone or the fact that he dared use her Christian name.
“All men are equal, and I’ll kill every last one of you aristos if that’s what it takes.”
“You’re mad,” she whispered. She gave the stable a fleeting look, and the footman struck again. This time she would have been hit, but Daventry moved quickly, grasping the attacker’s arm and wrenching it back up.
“Go!” he told Angelette.
She didn’t hesitate. She lifted her skirts and ran for the stables. The doors were standing open, and she rushed inside. The lantern hanging nearby was lit, and she glanced about for some sort of weapon. She spotted several tools for mucking out the stalls, but they were too heavy and cumbersome for her to wield. Instead, she grasped the hoof knife the farrier used and slid it into the hidden pocket under her skirts. She lifted the lantern from its nail and held it up, searching for her boots when footsteps behind her caused her to swing around.
The light from the lantern illuminated Daventry. His look was dark and serious and a red stain bloomed on his white shirt. She gasped, but he waved a hand. “It’s not mine.”
She closed her eyes, not wanting to think of the footman and his fate. What was happening? In the space of a half hour, the entire world had turned on its side. She felt dizzy and confused, sure of only one thing: she must reach Versailles and the king.
Daventry cocked his head, his brows lowering. Angelette started to ask what the matter was, and then she noticed it too. The stables were too quiet. She should have heard the snorting of the horses, the sound of their hooves pawing the ground, the creak of the floorboards as they moved in their stalls. She heard nothing.
“No!” Surely the peasants would not have harmed the horses. She rushed down the length of the stable. Stall after stall she passed was empty. She ran the entire length, then spun around. “I don’t understand.”
“They didn’t want anyone escaping and turned the horses loose.”
Angelette straightened her shoulders. “Then we walk to Versailles. It’s not far.”
He gave her a dubious look. “We’ll have to stay off the roads. How do you intend to walk through brush and woods in your slippers and silk gown?”
“You don’t know me very well, my lord, if you think that will stop me.” She ran back to the stable door. “Keep watch while I find boots and do something about my dress.”
He moved to the stable door and peered into the night. All was quiet for the moment, but she knew it wouldn’t last. She found her boots and sat to remove her slippers before slipping the boots on. Next she stood and looked down at her dress. She had limited movement in the wide panniers. Without them, the skirt would drag on the ground. She would have to remove the skirt and panniers and go in her petticoats and shift. As the bodice was a separate piece, she could keep it on. She reached back to untie her skirts and could not seem to loosen the knot. She began to unpin the skirt so she could slide it around and see what she was doing when Daventry moved closer.
“Would you like my help?”
She did not want his help, but she was also smart enough to realize that if it hadn’t been for him, she would probably be dead by now. She was fortunate he had taken her with him when he’d escaped the ballroom. Her hesitation then might have been the cause of their deaths. And she would not be the one to hamper their escape now.
“Thank you.” She gave him her back and felt his hands on her waist. She struggled to stop her thoughts from returning to their earlier path. Struggled not to imagine his hands on her bare skin. Instead, she took a deep breath and tried to pretend it was her lady’s maid loosening her ties and sliding the heavy skirts over her panniers and down her legs. “Now the panniers, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course.”
Was it her imagination or was his voice huskier than usual?
It seemed to take an eternity before he finally undid the knot and freed her from the panniers. He slid them down, brushing his hand along the small of her back.
“Forgive me,” he said hastily, jerking his hand back.
Angelette swallowed. “It’s nothing.”
