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“We’re all here now,” Ffoulkes said, changing the subject. “And I propose we move forward with the plan.”
“We are hiding in a cemetery,” Tristan said. “We are in no position to undertake a mission as big as freeing the little boy.”
“I disagree,” Ffoulkes said. “We strike now while their attention is on finding Alex and trying to discover what her mission in the Tuileries might have been. Not to mention, Chevalier, you were seen in her company more than once and she was discovered climbing out of your office window. You are no longer a free man. You must hide like the rest of us.” Ffoulkes waited for Tristan to object, but Tristan sat back, seeming to have accepted this conclusion. Alex took his hand, and he laced his fingers with hers.
“But you are correct in one thing,” Montagne interrupted. “We cannot live in my mausoleum. It lacks the comforts to which I’ve become accustomed. Therefore, I propose we make our way, in small groups, to my pied-à-terre.”
Honoria was nodding her head now, as though in agreement.
“It’s not far from our previous quarters, on the Boulevard du Temple. No one has taken possession of it, and there’s more than enough room for all of us. Of course, it cannot appear to be occupied, so we must be careful, but I assume it will do for a day or two.”
“Thank you, Montagne. That’s generous of you,” Ffoulkes said.
“Before you call me generous, understand that Honoria and I will be taking the largest bedchamber and not sharing it. I’m almost glad Robespierre found the house, so I no longer have to sleep on that pallet in the attic.”
“Now that the important matters have been settled”—Ffoulkes said wryly—“this is what I propose. We travel in small groups in the morning to Montagne’s pied-à-terre. That way we don’t risk being caught after curfew. Montagne will tell us the most unobtrusive way to enter the residence. We sleep and eat and prepare for our mission. Dewhurst, you are to provide transportation in the city and once we’re outside. How much time do you need?”
He shrugged. “Everything is ready. I only need to tell our men where to be and when.”
“Good. Alex, you will be climbing the Temple. Do you have all you need?”
“I have special shoes in my trunk with the costumes. I wasn’t able to take them.”
“And I don’t have my forgery supplies,” Honoria said. “I made all the passes and passports, but they are hidden in the attic.”
“So one of us must return to the attic to collect the papers and the shoes. I will do that.” Ffoulkes looked at Montagne. “You and Alex have mapped the secret passages and your route?”
“We’re ready,” Alexandra said.
“And we are only rescuing the boy?” Tristan asked. “Not the little princess?”
Everyone exchanged looks before Alexandra nodded. “Just the king.”
Tristan opened his mouth to ask why, but the way everyone was avoiding looking at him made him close it again. There was something the league wasn’t telling him. A separate plot to rescue Marie-Thérèse? He wouldn’t put it past them.
Ffoulkes tapped his chin, seeming to consider what else must be done. “I will discuss with Citoyen Leroy his role. If he agrees and I am able to retrieve what we need from the attic, can we act tomorrow night?”
The group exchanged looks and nodded. Alex glanced at Tristan, and her throat tightened. “What about Chevalier? If he’s in hiding, is it safe for him to present himself at the Temple as an agent of Robespierre?”
“I thought of that.” Ffoulkes rubbed a hand down his face. He looked as though he hasn’t slept for several days. “As Chevalier is so close to Robespierre, I do not think Robespierre will want to publicize his suspicions until he’s able to speak with Chevalier. That’s another reason we must act now. As time goes on and Chevalier’s disappearance must be explained, Robespierre will have no choice but to publicly condemn him. But I doubt the guards at the Temple will have any reason to suspect him.”
“And if you are wrong?” Tristan asked.
“Then I suppose we all go to the guillotine.” Ffoulkes looked at each of them in turn. “Are you willing to risk it?”
Every single person, save Tristan and Leroy, gave an enthusiasticaye.
“Dewhurst, tell us about the arrangements after we’ve freed the king.”
Dewhurst moved forward, taking Ffoulkes’s place. “I will drive one conveyance and Ffoulkes the other. Montagne, Miss Blake, Chevalier, and Leroy are with me. We’ll exit the north gate, travel to Calais, and take one of our ships to London. Our papers will identify us as farmers from Normandy, and we’ll be in a cart that has recently been used to transport produce. Once Ffoulkes retrieves the passports, you can study your new identity so you answer to it at the gate.”
“That’s not what I agreed to,” Montagne argued. “I want to travel with the king.”
“You are a marquis and might be recognized as such. Do you want to put the boy in jeopardy?” Ffoulkes demanded.
Montagne pressed his lips together and sat back, obviously not pleased but concerned with the king above all else.
Dewhurst looked at Alex and Ffoulkes. “You two will take the second conveyance, a carriage, along with the king. Ffoulkes will play your husband and the king your son,” he said to Alex. “You’ll exit the west gate and change horses and conveyances at the posting houses I have noted on the map.” He patted a pocket where he had secured the maps. “Then you’ll make haste to cross the Austrian border and take the king to his family there. No one must see the boy. It’s best if he says nothing and does not leave the carriage when others are around. We do not want what happened with the royal family in Varenne to happen to us.”
