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“You want me to rescue the next king of France, and that, citoyenne, is something I willneverdo.”
Seven
She shouldn’t havetold him about the dauphin, who was indeed King Louis XVII now that his father had been executed. She had been ordered to keep the mission a secret until Chevalier could be trusted, which would be never.
Not that she could blame him. He hated the nobility with good reason. In his place, she might feel exactly the same.
They’d finally left the wooded area behind, walking in silence until they reached the main road to Paris. Several coaches passed, but no farmer in a cart who might be willing to allow them to sit in the back with his produce. Alex wasn’t certain what time it was, but her growling belly told her she had missed the midday meal and was overdue for dinner.
And then the rains started.
“Was that water?” Chevalier had asked as they trudged along, she in front but he close on her heels. He looked up and frowned at the clouds. Alex continued walking. They were still miles and miles from Paris and their only shelter was a scraggly tree. If rain had dropped on his forehead, she did not want to know.
“It is drizzling,” he said.
She nodded and pulled the hood of her cape over her head. “Keep walking.”
He continued walking as did she, even as the rain grew steadier and the ground beneath her muddier. And then thunder cracked so loudly, she jumped and let out a small scream. Lightning followed, and the skies opened in a deluge Noah might have recognized.
“We’d better find somewhere to shelter!” Chevalier called over the roar of the falling water.
“There’s a posting house in two or three miles,” she called to him. “We could shelter there.”
“We’ll both have caught our death of cold by then.”
She couldn’t argue. Her teeth were already chattering. Her once warm cape was soaked through and now felt like a heavy weight on her shoulders. “Do you have another suggestion?”
He blew out a breath. “No.”
She trudged ahead, the mud miring her feet in its muck and the wind trying to blow her over. She had her head down to keep the water out of her eyes when Chevalier called out. “There!”
She looked at him, following his outstretched hand to where it pointed toward a cluster of farmhouses in the distance. “They will never give us shelter,” she said. “Living this close to the road, they have grown wary of anyone passing by.”
“Then you must be at your most charming and persuasive.”
“Me?” She scowled at him. “Why does this fall to me?”
