Did he dare take such a risk? In the past he wouldn’t have hesitated, but up until now, he’d never had anything – or anybody - to lose. That was what had made him so dangerous. Now, contrary to all expectations, he actually had people he cared about, and the very fact that he was dithering made him equally dangerous.
These thoughts and more raced through Raphael’s mind in seconds, but just as he opened his mouth to speak, he saw the wall behind Claude Fontaine suddenly move.
‘Thunder an’ turf, what a deuced bag of moonshine,’ Reverend Shackleford groaned.
‘I think now’s the time to fetch reinforcements from theFortune, Sir,’ Percy stated urgently.
‘But if Fontaine is holding them prisoner, their lives are in danger now,’ Roseanna reasoned, trying hard to force back her panic. ‘It could be hours before help arrives.’
‘The Frog didn’t think this one through, did he?’ muttered the Reverend, giving Henrietta a pointed look.
‘Dae ye reckon the bampot be aff his heid, Revren?’ Finn questioned, his voice a mixture of trepidation and excitement.
‘Aye, ah fear the lad be right,’ Dougal chimed in. ‘Ah’ll goan an’ fetch help.’
‘Is this you being helpful, Dougal Galbraith, or deuced chuckleheaded?’ the Reverend growled.
‘It be me bein’ bloody sensible,’ the Scot muttered under his breath, before adding in a louder voice, ‘An’ o’ course bein’ a descendant o’ the Galbraiths o’ Culloden, ah be a natural on the back o’ a horse.’
Both the Reverend and Percy looked at him doubtfully. ‘Hae ye niver seen a Scot ride in tae battle?’ Dougal asked with a very creditable swaggering grin.
‘Err… not recently,’ Percy confessed.
‘Ha,’ Dougal roared, making them all jump – including Flossy, who gave a low growl. ‘Ready yersels fer a sight ye’ll niver forget,’ he continued, climbing to his feet. ‘Marvel as ah be one wi’ th’orse.’
With that, he picked up his cloak, and strode to the entrance. Throwing open the door, he turned back, swirling the cloak over his shoulders with a flourish before stepping through and slamming the door behind him – only to reappear a couple of seconds later to ask where the nearest horse actually was…
Another ten minutes passed by the time they’d established that the only horse owned by the innkeeper was at least thirty years old and unlikely make it fifty yards down the road, let alone to Perros-Guirec and back, and another ten minutes before they persuaded the disappointed Dougal to take one of the two remaining carriages.
Watching him finally disappear into the distance, the Reverend breathed a relieved sigh at the reprieve. Unfortunately, the sentiment was not shared by his remaining companions.
‘We can’t simply sit here twiddling our thumbs until Dougal gets back with reinforcements,’ Henrietta commented. ‘That’s if he even comes back. I think Rosie's right. We need to do something now.’
‘Dae we rescue ‘em like the knights in a book, Da?’
‘I don’t think we can march up to the Chateau and rescue them from under the blackguard’s nose, son,’ Percy responded with a sigh. ‘They’ll see us while we’re still half a mile away.’
‘Not if you go through the tunnels,’ Antoine interjected.
The Reverend raised his eyebrows. ‘What deuced tunnels?’
‘They’ve been here since Robespierre’s time,’ Antoine went on. ‘The old Marquis wanted a way for the family to escape quickly.’ He shook his head sadly, before adding, ‘I don’t reckon he thought he’d be sending his only son through ‘em though.’
‘You escaped with Tristan through these tunnels?’ Augustus Shackleford quizzed him, the first stirrings of excitement in his voice. ‘Where do they lead to?’
‘There’s one goes from the library and one from the second salon. Both meet up and lead into the woods beyond the town.’
‘And you don’t think Fontaine knows about these?’ the Reverend questioned.
‘The Marquis never told anybody about ‘em – just kept it within the family. That’s how we were able to smuggle young Tristan out.’
‘And since then?’ Henrietta asked. ‘Do you think anyone’s discovered them?’
Antoine paused, his brow furrowed. ‘I can’t imagine how or when. Monsieur Fontaine has never spent much time at the Chateau. Madame Durand, the old housekeeper, is always telling me he’s off on some business or another.’
‘Where did you say the tunnels come out?’ Roseanna asked.
‘Not half a mile from here. I can take you all if you want. There’s only one way in, so you can’t get lost. You’ll know you’re underneath the Chateau when the walls turn into limestone.’
