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“Lord Anthony!” Honoria cried, pushing her chair back from the table.
“Stay out of this.”
“I will not,” she said. “Monsieur, put the knife down. Surely we can come to some compromise.”
“Excellent idea.” Laurent skidded sideways and wrapped an arm around her from behind. He brought the other hand up so the knife pressed to that lovely white flesh. She cried out, but froze like a statue when the cold metal of the blade touched her skin.
She’d made it almost too easy for him.
“Tony, put the pistol down,” Ffoulkes said.
“He won’t hurt her,” Dewhurst argued. “This is all for show.”
“That may be,” Ffoulkes argued. “But I don’t like the show.”
“What good will this dae ye, lad?” Mackenzie asked, rising from the chair where he’d been reading. “If ye kill her, it will nae get you intae the Temple.”
It was a good point. Laurent had to concede that. But killing her was not his plan.
“I’ll take that into consideration.” Laurent took a step back, dragging Honoria with him. They stumbled out of the dining room and into the parlor. “Where is the secret passage?” he asked her.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I’ve never used it.”
Laurent dug the knife into her neck. Dewhurst had been right. He would never hurt her, but she didn’t know that.
“I don’t believe you, mademoiselle. You may not have used it, but you know where it is.”
Dewhurst, Mackenzie, and Ffoulkes had followed them and stood in the doorway of the dining room. It was three against one, and they’d move soon if he didn’t find a way out.
“Let her go, Montagne,” Ffoulkes demanded. “We can sit and discuss this like civilized men.”
“There’s no civility in France anymore,” Laurent said, then leaned close to Honoria. “Tell me or I will be forced to cut you.” Then he raised his voice. “What you really mean is you’ll beat me senseless, tie me up, and take me out of the city by force.”
“Excellent idea,” Dewhurst said, his dark eyes all but black. “And I want the first punch.”
“Don’t make me hurt you,” Laurent murmured into Honoria’s ear.
“Under the stairs,” she said, her voice choking on a sob. He was a bastard, making her cry like this.
“There’s a secret panel. Push it, and it will open. Go and leave me here.”
He couldn’t do that. His plan depended on her skills, and she served another purpose as well. If he left her behind, the League would chase him until they brought him back. With Honoria as his prisoner, he had some leverage to keep the British at bay.
Laurent made his way to the panel, found the almost invisible seam, and pressed it. It clicked, and the little door sprang open. They would have to duck to fit inside, but he could do it if he forced her to go ahead of him.
“Where will you go, monsieur?” Ffoulkes asked. “You are supposed to be dead. If anyone recognizes you on the street, you will be brought to the Tribunal or worse.”
“Then I’d better be certain no one recognizes me.” He pushed Honoria into the small doorway.
“Leave Miss Blake, at least,” Ffoulkes said. “If you want to get yourself killed, that is one thing, but she’s done nothing.”
“I’ll bring her back,” Laurent promised as he followed her into the low corridor. “I swear it.”
He had no idea how he would ever keep that oath, but keep it, he would.
***
HONORIA STRUGGLED TOtake a deep breath as she and the daft marquis were thrown into darkness. The corridor opened up inside, and she was able to stand. He pushed her forward, but she took only a few steps.
