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With a smile, she pulled back and glanced at Ffoulkes, who stood beside them with hands on his hips. “Ah, I see you have returned to reality. And a fine reality it is, thanks to you and Montagne.” He nodded to Tristan.
“I’m sure you’ve found a way to work it out,” Alex said.
“Of course, I have.” He shoved a pile of clothing into her hands. “You will ride in the cart that Mackenzie is, even now, scattering with bits of produce. You will masquerade as a farmer and his wife returning from selling your crops in the city.” He pushed clothing at Tristan. “Dewhurst and Leroy are Claude and Emmanuel, your field hands.”
Dewhurst was changing coats, from the one he’d worn as a wine merchant to that of a poor farm worker. He pointed at Tristan. “Give me one order, and I’ll kill you.”
Ffoulkes ignored them. “Honoria is in the carriage donning travel clothes suitable for a woman traveling to Austria. When she finishes, do what you can to alter her appearance so she’s less attractive.” He nodded to the clothing in Alexandra’s arms. “This is what she was wearing. Put it on while we finish with the cart.” He pointed to the carriage Honoria had just exited.
Tristan and Alex climbed inside and immediately began removing clothing. She struggled to pull a blouse over her head and tuck it into the skirt.
“Here.” Tristan handed her a scrap of fabric. “You’d better put this over your hair. No farmer’s wife would have such fashionable hair.” He tied the kerchief over her head, then leaned down and kissed her gently. “Do you think we’ll make it out of the city?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Then this might be our last kiss.”
“If we survive, I have one request.”
“Anything.”
She grinned. “Really? Then I want you to go to the theater with me in London and watch Shakespeare.”
He groaned. “If I do, then you must grant me one request.”
“What’s that?”
“I’ll tell you after the play.” He kissed her hand, and they stepped out. Montagne and Honoria were waiting to climb inside, Montagne still holding the king. Alex did what she could to dull Honoria’s beauty with a bit of earth and clay, and she made Montagne stuff handkerchiefs in his cheeks to give his face a plump appearance. When she’d finished, she gave him a quick hug and Honoria a longer one.
“You will come back to London, won’t you?” Alex asked.
“I hope so. One day, but Louis Charles is like family to Laurent. And he is my family now.”
“And you always wanted adventure.”
“I always did. Be happy, Alex.”
“You too, Honoria.” They hugged again and then Tristan led her to the cart where Leroy and Dewhurst sat in the back, looking very much like French peasants. Ffoulkes gave Tristan a stack of papers.
“Take care of her.” Ffoulkes gave Tristan a hard look.
“I always have,” Tristan said, smiling at Alex. She smiled back, though she knew the danger was far from over.
***
“DON’T OFFER ANY MOREinformation than the guards request,” Dewhurst was saying. “And keep your responses—”
“Brief. I know,” Tristan answered as the cart finally approached the north gate out of Paris. Dewhurst had been giving him the same advice for the past twenty minutes, as Tristan drove the cart through the crowded streets of Paris. He’d tried not to appear in a hurry, while hurrying toward the gates. They would close in a quarter hour, so they’d made it just in time.
Or so he thought until he saw the line to exit. Two dozen or more people, many on foot but some in coaches and carts, stretched in front of them. “Do you think we’ll make it?” he asked Alexandra.
“If nothing goes wrong in front of us.”
“And if someone has the wrong papers or causes a problem?”
She gave him a quelling look. “Let’s hope that doesn’t happen.”
No one wanted to consider their predicament if they did not escape the city tonight. By now those at the Temple might have noticed the king was gone. If not, they would surely know tomorrow, and no one would leave Paris until every inch of the city was searched. Tristan wondered if the little boy was already out of the city and on his way to Austria. However fearful he might be that his papers would be questioned or that he’d be recognized, it was nothing to the fear Montagne and Miss Blake must be feeling with the terrified little boy in their care.
