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“Because you were a libertine?”
“Because I cared only for my own pleasure, when I had a responsibility to those less fortunate. If the republic wants to kill me for those sins, I go willingly. But to kill me because I am related to the Bourbon family, which has always had the best interests of France and its people at heart, that I will not accept.”
“You have thought about this a great deal.”
“One has time to think in prison, if nothing else. And I realized that not only could I not accept my death under those charges, I could not accept the death of innocent children. The queen is beyond my help now, but I can still save the children. Once they are safe, I will walk to the scaffold a happy man.”
“I don’t agree with a government—any government—imprisoning children.”
He watched her, seeming to wait for her to continue. “And killing citizens for their royal blood?”
Honoria looked down at her trousers, surprised for a moment that she did not wear a skirt. “As a commoner, I understand the anger the peasants have toward the nobles. There is some of that same anger in England, and it is part of what led to the revolution in America. But slaughter of the innocent along with the guilty cannot be right. The Tribunal holds sham trials and then condemns people on the basis of nothing but rumor. And so I am here working to save those I can, at least until the Pimpernel sends me back.”
Montagne seemed to search her face. “And what if I ask you to stay?”
Honoria’s throat tightened, and she took a deep breath. “Why would you do that?”
“Because I need you.” He reached out and pushed a lock of her hair off her cheek. Honoria felt the same dizziness she had on the roof of the building they’d fled. She warned herself not to be taken in by his good looks and charm.
“You need me to forge passes out of the country for you,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Yes.” But his voice hinted that there was more behind his words. “If we reach the safe house, and the Pimpernel asks you to go, what will you do?”
Honoria looked away. “I don’t know. Try to convince him to aid you in your cause?” She glanced at the marquis again.
“And if he will not?”
Honoria looked down and didn’t answer.
Eleven
Laurent had known shewould choose the Pimpernel. She didn’t owe him, the Marquis de Montagne, any loyalty, but the fact that she’d not said so outright gave him some hope that she wouldn’t flee back to England as soon as they reached the safe house.
The events of the day had proved two things to him. One, he needed help if he hoped to get into the Temple prison. The National Guard was out in larger numbers than before, and clearly the citizens of France were eager to prove their loyalty by turning in anyone suspicious. Two, he needed Honoria’s skills to escape France. He knew he could get into the Temple, despite the layers of security and numbers of guards. He knew the structure well, knew all of its hidden passages and tunnels. But considering the new tighter security just inside Paris, the Temple might be the least of his concerns. He needed perfect papers to be able to travel not only through Paris but also in the countryside and across the border.
Beside him, Honoria had moved closer so her shoulder rested against his. He might have wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close to keep her warm if he did not think such a gesture would make her scoot to the other side of the cellar.
