Page 17 of Taken by the Rake (The Scarlet Chronicle 3)

Oh, but she could hear the amusement in his voice. He was enjoying every second of this.

“I will stop moving. Take your hand away.”

“In a moment. I promise you that when I imagined my hands on your derrière, this was not at all what I had in mind.”

“You are vile and lewd and—”

“I am happy to report your bottom is just as plump and rounded as I’d envisioned it in my mind.”

“The guillotine is too good for you. You should be drawn and quartered or boiled in tar or—”

“Tell that to the Guard when they catch us. You might suggest they treat me as they did Berthier de Sauvigny, the former Intendant of Paris. You know what the mob did to him, do you not?” He set her down at the base of the steps, and she shivered with cold and the yawning darkness behind her. The only light came from a single oil lamp hanging nearby. Honoria prayed it had enough oil to last until Montagne would let her go.

Montagne watched her, his green eyes almost catlike in the dim light. “You don’t know the story of Foulon’s son-in-law?”

Oh, she knew the story of Foulon. He’d been the king’s Minister of Finance. When a rumor spread he had told the starving people of France to eat hay, a mob had gone after him. The elderly man had been hitched to a wagon and forced to pull it to the Hôtel de Ville where the Assembly had met. The crowd had abused him by stuffing hay in his mouth before hanging him from a lamppost and severing his head.

“I don’t want to know.”

Montagne smiled grimly. “Then how will you know what horrors to propose for my death? Tell them to treat me as they did Berthier de Sauvigny. Tell them to rip my beating heart of out my chest and present it to the Assembly. Only then will this nation be safe from me. I have no love for the revolution. I am no patriot. For that alone, I should die.”

He turned and lifted the lamp from its hook, and Honoria put her hand on his arm. “I take it back. I wouldn’t wish a fate like that of the Intendant on anyone.”

“Then you will help me rescue the royal family? You will help me save Marie-Thérèse?”

Honoria closed her eyes and shook her head. “Even if I wanted to help, I wouldn’t know how. I am an antiquities expert and a forger. I know nothing about sneaking into prisons or plotting rescues.”

“Then we make quite the pair,” he said, holding the lantern high and illuminating stone arches under which ornate stone sarcophagi rested. “Because I know nothing of rescuing either, but I’ve given my word, and youwillhelp me.”

Five

At his words, her lipsthinned and her mouth tightened. Laurent liked it much better soft and full, but what did he expect when he’d all but ordered her to accompany him on an errand that would surely end with their deaths. Still, she had a backbone, and he was pleased to see it. She would need courage and spirit to see her through the rest of this day and into night.

Of course, he would never make her accompany him to the Temple. He could think of no worse rescue plan than bringing an accomplice who would rather he died than succeed with him. But he would not send her back to the safe house just yet. He needed her to keep the League of the Scarlet Pimpernel at bay, and he needed her special skills.

And didn’t that sound like utter madness? What French nobleman in his right mind wanted to keep the Scarlet Pimpernel away? The Pimpernel was Laurent’s only chance at survival. He should be begging Ffoulkes to take him to England.

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