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“Monsieurwill do,” Montagne remarked drily. Tristan really would have liked to punch him in that perfect nose.
“How did you acquire this?” Tristan asked.
“You don’t need to know that,” Ffoulkes said just as Miss Blake opened her mouth, presumably to answer. “And you should also be aware that we have made copies of the documents you provided us and given them to a friend for safekeeping. If anything should happen to us, Robespierre will have the proof of your perfidy within the hour.”
“Are you threatening me?”
Dewhurst moved out of the shadows. “We’re simply providing you all of the necessary information. Now, it’s your turn.” He pointed to the map. “Start talking.”
Tristan sighed. “I believe this is correct and that Citoyen Capet is held here.” He indicated the room already marked with the wordsDauphin de France. “He’s held alone with a guard outside at all times.”
Montagne nodded. “We infiltrate the Temple, make our way to the king’s cell, and force the guard to open it for us. Voilà!”
Tristan shook his head. “I think the only person with a key to the cell is Antoine Simon, who has been charged with reforming the boy.”
The group muttered quietly, obviously having heard of Simon and disapproving.
“Then we make Simon open the door,” Dewhurst said.
“How?” Alexandra asked. “He knows to do so will mean death by guillotine.”
Dewhurst made a fist with one hand and smacked his open palm. “There are ways of convincing him.”
“We won’t have time for that,” Montagne said.
“And I believe you are all forgetting that we want the king’s removal to go unnoticed until we are out of the city.” Ffoulkes crossed his arms.
Montagne nodded. “Perhaps we pick the lock. Alex?”
“I can manage a common door or window, but nothing reinforced. What type of lock was it?” she asked Tristan.
“I don’t know the word in English.Cadenas.”
“Padlock,” Ffoulkes translated.
“Gabrielle could do it,” Alexandra said.
“She’s in England, and it will take too long to arrange for her return.” Ffoulkes turned to Miss Blake. “We’ll need release papers for a locksmith.”
“I can make them as soon as we know the name.”
“Chevalier can take care of that for us,” Dewhurst said.
“I don’t follow.” Tristan looked at Alexandra.
She held up a staying hand. “Every task we ask of him puts him at risk of suspicion. We need him to gain us entrance to the prison. That’s foremost. I’d rather ask the Pimpernel to send us Gabrielle than compromise Chevalier.”
Dewhurst bore down on her. “And I’d like it if we didn’t treat this”—he flicked his wrist at Tristan—“murdererlike a china doll. Let him get his hands dirty with something other than innocent blood.”
“Dewhurst,” Montagne said, his tone a warning.
Dewhurst sneered at him. “This is why we don’t sleep with the enemy.”
Tristan lunged for Dewhurst, but Ffoulkes stepped in front of him. Alexandra calmly lifted her glass of wine and threw it in Dewhurst’s face.
“Fils de salope.”Montagne quickly moved the map off the table and Miss Blake gave him a handkerchief to dry the edge that had been stained.
“What I do or do not do on my time and with my body is not your concern, Tony,” Alexandra said. “And the next time you mention it, it will be my fist in your face.”
