Page 104 of Taken by the Rake (The Scarlet Chronicle 3)

“Who are you working with?” the man from the Committee asked.

“I told you,” she said, her voice hoarse now. “My brother and I wanted to catch a glimpse of the royal family. That was all.” She’d given her false name and made up a false brother. Guards had left to search the false address she’d given them, and when they returned she knew she would be in more trouble.

The commander flattened his palms on the table where she sat. They’d brought her to the ground floor of the Temple, which housed offices for some members of the government as well as about forty of the National Guard. The room was unadorned, stone walls, scarred wooden table, uncomfortable wooden chairs. The windows were small and barred, and the light from the fireplace was weak and gave no heat.

“I don’t believe you, citoyenne. I believe this was a carefully orchestrated plot to attempt to rescue the dauphin. How did you manage to get in?”

She shrugged, too tired to speak.

The commander banged his hand on the table. “I’ll not ask again.How did you manage to get in?”

“We walked in,” she murmured.

His hand cracked across her face, setting her off balance and tumbling to the floor. The representative from the Committee made a tsking sound, but it wasn’t the first time they’d slapped her and she knew no one would come to her aid.

She closed her eyes and tried to imagine where Laurent was right now. Had he escaped Paris and started on the road leading toward the border with Austria? How long until he and the princess were safely away? She would never reveal the switch they’d made—that Mademoiselle de Lambriquet now sat in Marie-Thérèse’s cell—but she feared she might say something unintentional as the hours of torment grew longer and the slaps more frequent. Would it hurt anyone if she revealed the room that overlooked the Tower garden? Perhaps she could give that as her residence when the guard returned.

“Get up,” the commander ordered, then pointed a finger at one of the guards watching the interrogation. The young man hauled her to her feet, none too gently, and shoved her back into her chair. She laid her head on the table, and the commander yanked her up by the hair. “You had better start telling us what you know, citoyenne, or we might grow...unpleasant.”

“I don’t know anything,” she lied. “I told you. I only wanted to catch a glimpse of the princess—”

Another slap.

The world faded for a moment and from somewhere far away, Honoria heard a voice. “She is Citoyenne Capet. All titles were abolished.”

“Right,” she said, her voice slurred. “We’re all equal now.”

“Tell me the truth now,” one of the men ordered her. She could no longer stop the room from spinning. “If you don’t speak, I’ll see you guillotined.”

Oh, the lies. She would be guillotined regardless. But they’d make her suffer first. Perhaps if she went to sleep for a little while, she could escape the pain in her cheek where she’d cut the inside with her teeth or the lump on her head where the commander had slammed it into the table. The room looked so gray now, and her eyes were so heavy...

Suddenly, the world exploded in a shower of light and sound. Honoria’s eyes popped open, and she wondered if she imagined the pops of sound and the smell of gunpowder. Were they under attack?

She jumped as more shots rang out and more explosions sounded. Her jump sent her tumbling to the ground, but this time no one lifted her back into her chair. She lay under the table, the sounds of chaos and the smell of burning wood and gunpowder searing her nostrils.

She was vaguely aware of the guards running out of the room to fight against the attack and defend the prison. She hoped it took hours to subdue the threat. It was so lovely to lie on the floor, under the table. She would close her eyes...

Pain lanced through her as she was dragged upward. “No,” she said pushing the guard away. “Let me lie here.”

“I can’t do that,” a familiar voice answered. “That would defeat the purpose of this rescue.”

Honoria opened her eyes. “I’m dreaming,” she said.

Laurent shook his head. “No, you’re awake, and we have to move now. It won’t take the guards long to realize Dewhurst is setting off fireworks and there’s no real threat.”

She touched his cheek, then pinched it.

“Ow! What the hell?”

She really was not dreaming. “Why are you not with the princess on the way to the border?”

“Because I won’t leave you behind. Mackenzie will escort the princess.”

“And you came back for me?”

“I did, though I’m fairly certain at this rate we will both find our necks under the guillotine before week’s end.”

“Oh, Laurent!” She tried to wrap her arms around him, but they wouldn’t reach quite that high.

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