Page 46 of Love Beneath the Guillotine
Also speaking in English, pushing himself up to sitting, Henry replied, “I don’t know. We’ll have to hide, I suppose.”
“And him?” she asked, looking down at Léon.
Henry glanced once at Léon’s appalled and bewildered face, then said firmly, “Leave him be.”
With an angry tone that Léon hadn’t imagined reviving so fast in a woman in her situation, “Can he be trusted?”
Henry watched Léon dig despairing fingers into his hair, going somewhere distant as his whole world imploded. And Henry, having achieved the one thing that had been his sole obsession for months, switched his allegiance and intention in a heartbeat. “He’s with me. Don’t hurt him. No matter what stupid thing he does next.”
“We can’t just pick up strays,” she said.
Léon, not understanding a word of their discussion, rolled back, wailing to himself, “What am I going to do now? Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuuck!”
“And he seems a bit unstable,” Catherine observed, watching him writhe on the grass.
“He’s just a little upset,” Henry offered. “It’s been a big day for him.” He tapped a hand down on Léon’s knee, switching back to French. “How about we get out of here?”
Léon slapped the hand away viciously. “How about you go fuck yourself, Henri? You utter, utter piece of shit!” He scrambled back out of his reach. “I don’t know who you are, or what you’ve done— Fuck! What have you even done?” Catherine narrowed sharp eyes at Henry as Léon yelled, “I knew I never should have helped you! I should have just told them what you did!”
Henry shook his head at his sister in warning, and she rolled her eyes before asking, “What’s your plan, then?”
He climbed to his feet, leaving Léon to roll over and bang his forehead into the dirt repeatedly. “To not get caught. We’regoing to have to make a fast escape, and my horse wandered off somewhere like the bastard he is.”
“How did you afford a horse?”
“Stolen horse. I’ll see if I can get him back.” Henry whistled, low, and there was a cracking of branches as his black stallion obediently leapt out from behind thick greenery. Léon paused his tantrum in astonishment. He’d had no idea it was still there. He couldn’t think of a moment Henry’d had to hide it, and he’d assumed it had run away in fright.
The horse trotted straight up to Henry, but when he held out a hand to take its reins, the animal flinched away, prancing two steps to the side and out of Henry’s reach.
“We had a deal!” Henry growled.
The horse threw its head back and ran a tight circle while Catherine asked, “What’s the matter with it?”
“He doesn’t like the smell.” Henry glared at the horse as it dipped its huge head in agreement and stomped a hoof in the dirt. “I’ll wash you as soon as we’re done,” he tried, but the animal cantered off across the field the second Henry made a move toward it. “Bastard!”
Just then, all were distracted by the sound of a carriage—large wheels on gravel that spoke of a proper road nearby. Henry and Catherine locked eyes, an immediate understanding passing between them.
“Are you able to run?” he asked, his voice urgent.
She gave a nod, thrust the gun into his hand, and set off at a remarkable pace across the field, weird horse bounding after her. Henry reached for Léon’s hand to help him up, but found it smacked away again. “Get up, Ange, it’s time to go.”
“Stop calling me that!” Léon ground out, showing no sign that he was about to follow a single one of Henry’s instructions.
Henry dropped onto one knee. “If you don’t come now, you’re going to go down for my crime. And I don’t want to see your head end up in a basket. Not for something I did.”
It was a frank and jarringly earnest statement, and it grabbed Léon’s attention enough to pull him back to some sense.
His eyes cleared as they made contact with Henry’s, and Henry said, “I’ll take you to Émile, we’ll figure a way out of this. But you have to come now. Please.” He held out his hand again. It took a good six seconds of consideration, but Léon locked fingers around his wrist, and Henry wrenched him to his feet. “This way. Run.”
Léon took up his discarded axe and bolted after him. Both could hear the carriage approaching, louder and louder, but neither could see it through the trees. Catherine, on the other hand, must have found a way around. They heard her cry out, “Help me! Please, please help me!”
Just as they made it to a clearing between the thick foliage, they heard a neigh of horses and the carriage driver yelling to his animals to hold as he drew hard on the reins. Catherine kept her ground, looking just as frail and pathetic as when Léon had first laid eyes on her. The carriage driver fell for it every bit as thoroughly as Léon had. He jumped down, Henry lunged forward, and the man had the tip of Henry’s pistol pressed behind his ear before he knew what was happening.
Léon tumbled out of the bushes. “Don’t hurt him! Please!”
Taking a step back from the driver, Henry nodded for Catherine to come take the pistol, saying to Léon, “How about this?” He handed the gun across and slid his sword free from its holster. “You do exactly as I say…” He rounded the carriage and snapped the door open to a communal scream from three ladies and a gentleman inside. “And I’ll let these good people live.”
Léon readily assented. “Okay. Whatever you say.”
