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“And you trust you will be paid?” Charlotte said.
Treachery seemed never to have occurred to them and they argued briefly, but they resolved it quickly too, as siblings were wont to do. This told Charlotte something about their relationship, but she was uncertain how to use that to her advantage. She could not overpower them. She had to outwit them.
The pistol George had brandished earlier was tucked into his belt. Charlotte watched it as they may their way down the cliffside. She had to get her hands on that gun. It was the only way, she thought as they continued down the path towards the cove. She could not let them take her to France. Somehow, she had to avoid getting on the ship. She slowed her pace, limping slightly and telling the brothers that she had twisted an ankle on the rocks.
If she was put on that ship, she was lost. Charlotte wished she knew when it would sail. She only knew that the tide would not wait. And if she could escape only long enough to miss it, her brother…and perhaps John could find her. She had to stall long enough to let the ship sail, but they were almost to the bottom of the cliffside and the sea.
There was no more time. She had to be daring. And she had to do it now. She stumbled into George, the man with the gun, and with an impossible gamble got her hands on the weapon. Charlotte dashed out across the sand. Turning quickly, she aimed at the younger brother, hoping that the elder had some feeling for his sibling. She could not shoot them both.
“I will shoot you, sir,” Charlotte said. Her voice wavered, but her aim did not. “I cannot chance you coming after me, so I will aim to kill.” She said in a hard voice. “This is Henri’s revenge not yours. There is no need for you to die for it. Let me go.”
“Ah, but you did not think that George was the only one who was armed, did you?” asked the younger brother with a smirk. He pulled his own pistol.
Charlotte swallowed hard, attempting to master her own fear. She side-stepped slowly trying to keep the unarmed George between her and the gun. Luckily, she knew from experience, that these pistols were notoriously difficult to aim and George was nearly within the line of fire.
Then everything seemed to happen at once. Charlotte shifted again, preparing to run, just as Charlie fired. She turned swiftly, but George tried to catch her and fouled his brother’s shot. The bullet hit him. Charlotte did not wait to find out where or how badly the man was hurt. She scrambled back up the cliffside, carefully cradling her own stolen pistol.
* * *
John forced himself to calm.He would rescue his mother, no matter what. He was not afraid of Henri Toussaint. The man appeared to be alone, but he did not want to be surprised my any accomplices. John did not see any of Henri’s compatriots, but he had to be sure. He scouted the area, and then carefully made his move.
He picked up a handful of small pebbles and began pitching them so that they struck the rocks near the far side of the cliff. Instead of going to investigate, Toussaint grabbed His mother and held her fast.
“George?” he called, confirming that there were more men involved in this plot than Toussaint and that they were nearby.
John’s bile rose. George was a good English name. How could someone born and bred in England betray his country so? For Henri, born French it was perhaps understandable…no, John decided. He could never understand how anyone could betray their King or treat a lady so callously.
“Come out, you. Whoever you are!” Toussaint called.
Sir John complied.
“Jean!” Collette shrieked, struggling to keep the sight of her son as Toussaint restrained her.
“Are you alright,Maman?” He asked in a deceptively calm voice.
“Yes, Jean, but how on earth did you find me?”
“Toussaint is not nearly so clever as he thinks he is,” Sir John declared contemptuously, casting a look of scorn at the man.
“And Lady Charlotte?” Added Collette. “Is she safe?”
John’s blood drained from his face. It froze in his veins. “Charlotte?” he repeated.How had Charlotte become involved in this?“Where is she?”
Toussaint laughed.
“Where is Lady Charlotte?” John repeated through gritted teeth.
“Have you retrieved the gemstone for me,mon Cousin?” Toussaint asked with a smirk.
John wanted more than anything to wipe the smug look from the man’s face. He threw a glance at his mother.
“Forgive me, Jean. I told him that you knew where the diamond was hidden and that you had gone to retrieve it. I thought it might keep him from taking me and Charlotte away where you could not find us,” Lady Ashbrooke said, looking shamefaced.
“There is nothing to forgive,Maman, it is just as Father told you before. No piece of jewelry is worth your life, not even a diamond of the Crown Jewels of France.” John was desperate to know what had happened to Charlotte. Somehow, she had been with his mother…perhaps when she had been taken?But why? How?More importantly, how could he get them both to safety.
“Spoken like a true English patriot,” Henri spat contemptuously. “Your valor is only matched by your stupidity.”
“How am I stupid, Toussaint?”
