Page 100 of Taken by the Rake (The Scarlet Chronicle 3)

Honoria fought the urge to run, to flee. They hadn’t discussed what to say in this situation. “They are with the captain of the guards,” she said, hoping that was what the servants did with papers. Or were they required to carry them at all times?

“I’ll wait while you fetch them.”

“No need for that,” Laurent said. “I have them right here.” He reached into his coat and brought out what might have been the handle of an axe at one time. Now he swung it at the older guard, hitting him across the face before he could respond. The younger guard called out and raced for his bayonet, resting in a corner, but Honoria tripped him, then jumped on him to hold him down. She glanced over her shoulder, hoping Laurent had incapacitated the first man, but the two were fighting—and rather loudly—over the axe handle. Laurent still had it but the guard had his hand wrapped around Laurent’s wrist as he tried to wrench the weapon away.

The guard beneath Honoria recovered from his fall and tried to buck her off him. She thudded on the ground, then grabbed him about the neck, trying to push him back down again. He rose, and she hung on to his neck, trying to cut off his air. His elbow made contact with her belly, and she let out a whoosh of air, but she wouldn’t let go of him. Lurching like a monster from a child’s nightmare, he started for his bayonet.

Honoria squeezed his neck tighter, knowing if he reached the bayonet, she would have no chance. She tried to pull him back down, but he was taller and stronger, and he pulled her inexorably closer to the weapon.

“Laurent!” she called.

“One. Moment.” His voice was filled with frustration, and she knew he still fought the other guard. Honoria made one more attempt to put the guard off balance. He stumbled, but she knew it wouldn’t be enough. Just then Ernestine rushed past them, grabbed the bayonet and swung it at the guard.

Honoria released him and rolled away. When she rose on her knees, Ernestine was facing the guard, bayonet pointed at him.

“Give me that,” the boy demanded.

Ernestine flicked a gaze to Honoria, but what could she do? Still, she understood the terror in the girl’s eyes. She didn’t want to run him through. “Hit him with the butt,” Honoria told her.

Ernestine turned the weapon and struck just as the lad made to snatch it. The butt end of the weapon hit him in the shoulder, knocking him back, but not rendering him unconscious.

“Again!” Honoria called.

With a little cry, Ernestine hit him again, this time landing a blow on his temple. Blood streamed from the wound, but the lad was not incapacitated. He grasped the weapon and tried to jerk it away. Honoria raced to Ernestine’s aid, and the two of them managed to keep hold of the weapon. But this could not go on. Any moment someone would hear the commotion or an alarm would sound. They had to deal with these guards quickly, get the princess, and get out.

As though the young guard read her mind, he opened his mouth and yelled, “Help! We’re under attack!”

Honoria tried again to free the bayonet from his grasp, but she couldn’t manage it. The boy opened his mouth to scream again, and the weapon was torn from Honoria’s hands. Laurent smashed the butt down on the lad’s head, and he crumpled to the floor. Silent at last.

Honoria stared at the young guard and then at the older one. He too lay in a heap on the floor, blood matting his hair where a blow had struck home.

“Hurry,” Laurent ordered. “If anyone heard him, we’re done for.”

He grabbed the hamper and stuffed it in Honoria’s arms, then he opened the door to Marie-Thérèse’s room. It was sparsely furnished, but not entirely devoid of comforts. The walls boasted paper-hangings of green flowers on a blue background. The fireplace was not lit, and the room was cold and dark, shrouding the couch, table, and chairs in shadow. Just past Laurent, Honoria saw two women huddled at the far end, obviously afraid of the commotion they’d heard outside. But as soon as they saw Laurent, they cried out with happiness. “Monsieur!” the older one, who must be Madame Élisabeth, cried.

“Montagne,” said the young woman, whose face lit with a smile. “Have you come to save us?”

“I’ve come to rescue you and take you to Vienna. We must hurry before we are discovered.”

“But Ernestine! What is she doing here?”

Ernestine gave a deep curtsy. “I am here to take your place, Highness. We must change clothes and then I will stay while you are taken to safety in Vienna.”

“But what of my brother and my aunt?” Marie-Thérèse asked, her blue eyes widening with concern.

“We will take your brother as soon as you are safely away,” Laurent said. Honoria saw Ernestine’s head snap toward him, but she said nothing. “As for your aunt, she is welcome to come with us. In that case, there is no reason for Mademoiselle de Lambriquet to stay.”

Madame Élisabeth shook her head. “Your plan is a good one. And you know me well enough, monsieur, to know I will never leave my country. France is my home, not Austria.”

“Then I will stay too,” Marie-Thérèse said, clinging to her aunt.

“No.” Her aunt took her shoulders and looked into her eyes. “You must leave. Louis Charles will need your help when he returns to restore the monarchy.” She looked at the small group. “If I am not mistaken, the plan is to leave Ernestine here in your stead. The patriots will be fooled into thinking they still have you to use as a bargaining chip.”

“Exactly,” Laurent said. “Marie-Thérèse, I once promised you I would come back if ever you needed me. I am here, and though I have not spoken with your parents, I know they would want you to go with me.”

“Please hurry,” Ernestine begged.

The princess straightened her back and nodded her head. It was impossible to know what she might be thinking, whether to wonder if her parents were still alive, if she’d ever see her aunt again, or if she deserved the sacrifice Ernestine made for her. Instead, she nodded at Laurent. “If you will give us a moment’s privacy?”

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