While the duchess was focused on the ships preparing to depart, Tamsyn couldn’t help noticing the small clusters of blue-coated French soldiers who were scattered along the waterfront. Were they there to maintain order in the crowd, or for some more sinister reason?
Tamsyn’s gaze sharpened as she saw a carriage swing onto the street in front of the hotel. Though the port area was only a few minutes’ walk away, for safety’s sake Whitworth had been using a carriage because walking made him more vulnerable to assault.
Cade swung out of the carriage first, followed by the ambassador and Holland, the secretary. “Look, my lord is smiling!” the duchess exclaimed. “Permission must have been granted for us to board our ship and leave!”
They both raced down the stairs to intercept the men in the lobby. The duchess asked, “Have we been granted permission?”
Whitworth smiled. “We have indeed! The heavy luggage has already been loaded onto thePrincess of Walesand we have only our small bags of personal belongings to carry on board. The tide is right and we can be on our way within the hour!”
The duchess gave a rapturous sigh. “I’m so glad! Let’s check our rooms to make sure we have everything.”
The Whitworths headed for the stairs while Tamsyn turned to Cade. In a low voice, she asked, “Has there been any trouble? I have a sense of doom hanging over my head.”
“So do I,” Cade agreed, “but there have been no threats. Just that damnable feeling of being watched. The streets are so crowded that it will be better to walk to the ship rather than try to drive the carriage. I hope the Scorpion doesn’t decide this is the time to attack.”
“If so, we’ll sense him before he can strike,” she said reassuringly. “I’ll carry your bag as well as mine so your hands will be free to deal with any trouble. Between you and Captain Hansen and the other guards, the Whitworths will be safe.”
“I feel that they will be.” Cade frowned. “But I think there will be trouble from an unexpected direction.”
She said lightly, “We’re very good at dealing with the unexpected.”
He smiled a little. “True. Time to get our bags and say goodbye to Calais.”
She nodded and together they climbed the stairs. His room was opposite hers. He let himself in, collected his bag, then crossed the passage to her room. They had identical canvas carry bags that could be tied shut, then slung over a shoulder and across a person’s chest so there was no need to think about it.
After she arranged her bag across her chest, he gave her his bag and she hung it over her other shoulder so the straps crossed in front of her. “With two bags balancing each other, I hardly notice I’m carrying anything,” she said.
Since it was a bright, chilly May day, she donned her soft brown cloak, covering the bags. As she tied her rather boring bonnet on, Cade said with a chuckle, “You look like a well-behaved spinster on her way to arrange flowers at the parish church. I assume your knife is convenient to hand?”
She arched her brows. “Of course it is. All the best spinsters of the parish know how to defend themselves.”
“Here’s hoping we won’t need to.” He held the door for her and they proceeded down the stairs together. Mr. Holland came next, then the Whitworths. As they stepped outside of the hotel, Hansen and his four soldiers gathered protectively around their small group. All of them were in civilian clothing because British uniforms might prove inflammatory under current circumstances.
Cade laid a warm hand on Tamsyn’s lower back. “Stay close and be careful, Tamkin,” he said softly.
“And the same to you, number one brother,” she said with equal softness.
The streets had become even more crowded, but with Cade and Hansen and the other guards to clear the way, they made good time toward the port. All of them, even the duchess, were alert and watching their surroundings carefully.
Finally they emerged onto the broad street that ran along the waterfront. Hundreds of people were crowded into the area along with carts of luggage, street peddlers, sailors, and soldiers. Travelers were boarding ships. Their vessel, thePrincess of Wales,was directly ahead of them, with a welcoming gangway in place.
Tamsyn gave a sigh of relief. They’d made it. Just a hundred yards or so more and they’d be safe....
Her relief was premature.
With a clatter of horses’ hooves and the steady beat of drums, a French colonel and a group of subordinates rode into the center of the dock area and pulled to a halt a little left of the route Cade and the others were taking. An aide handed the colonel a cone-shaped speaking tube, and the commander bellowed through it with a voice that echoed harshly off the waterfront buildings.
“Attention! Attention!” he shouted in French. “I am Colonel Gagnon, and by the authority of Napoleon Bonaparte, First Consul of France, all Englishmen from the age of eighteen to sixty who might be enrolled in the militia shall be made Prisoners of War to answer for the Citizens of the Republic who have been arrested by the vessels or subjects of his Britannic Majesty before the declaration of war!”
There was a stunned silence, then an uproar of English voices. A man with a London accent bellowed, “Are you sayin’ we can’t go home? Why the bloody hell not? I’m not in the militia and I don’t know anyone who is!”
The clusters of French soldiers that had been waiting on street corners marched swiftly forward and began to form a line in front of the docked ships to prevent potential travelers from boarding. The ambassador and his entourage stopped. “Absurd!” Whitworth said, shocked. “The militia barely exists! It’s not a trained fighting force like the regular army. There is no legal basis for arresting civilians and declaring them prisoners of war!”
“It’s hard to argue the law with armed men,” Cade said tersely. “Hansen, you and your soldiers are in the army and legitimate targets. We need to get you and the rest of our party onto the ship before the French troops organize themselves. Stay close!”
He and the other guards formed around the Whitworths and forced their way toward thePrincess of Wales. The ambassador had a protective arm around his wife and Tamsyn brought up the rear, her gaze scanning the rioters and her senses on full alert.
To their right, a group of shouting Britons pushed forward against the line of soldiers. As fighting broke out, some soldiers raised their muskets and shot over the heads of the crowd. Apparently they didn’t want to shoot foreign nationals, but that might change.
