He also remembered that he had been in much tougher and dangerous situations than this, and had managed to escape, just as he would from wherever the soldiers were taking him.
It had been easy to catch up to the soldiers because they did not move very quickly, nor were they quiet, which made it easy for Tempest to follow from a distance.
She tried to plan for what she would do to rescue Rhys but until she arrived in Fort-de-France, she would not know what options were available to her.
Thank goodness she remained in trousers, which were much more comfortable when walking in the forest, but she had brought her dress in the event she needed to come out of hiding and try and blend in. As for her reticule, she had that, along with her funds, which were generous.
She would bribe the soldiers for his release, if necessary, though she hoped that it would not come to that.
As they drew nearer to town, she slipped away and removed her shirt and pulled the dress on over the trousers and left the shirt behind, then continued to follow. As before, it was easy enough to catch up to the soldiers and she followed them right into town, from a distance, and hoped that she was not noticed. As they marched down one of the streets, she took to the opposite side and watched while she pretended to look in the windows of merchants until they entered a building.
Thank goodness they hadn’t entered the fortress that was Fort Desaix because she would then have no idea how to rescue Rhys.
She needed a reason to remain in the town and she needed to find out what the building was. Only then could she act.
Tempest pursed her lips and glanced around. She would not walk too far away just in case they took Rhys from the building but she could not remain standing in front of it while she decided what to do. Just as she turned away, two men marched by, holding the arms of another.
“Into the gaol with you until a magistrate can hear your case.”
She glanced over her shoulder and watched while they entered the same building that Rhys had been taken to.
The gaol. A jail.
Now to determine how many guards were on the inside and come up with a reason to enter.
Tempest caught her reflection in the glass of the window. She was dressed in her simple, deep rose gown, which was not alluring, or even spoke of wealth. Her hair was still twisted in a chignon behind her head, but several curls had escaped and framed her face.
While she did not look a fright, her appearance would not distract anyone either, which was her first idea to gain access to Rhys. Therefore, she set out to determine how she could improve on her appearance and perused the various shops through their windows, which were lacking of goods and empty of people shopping, likely due to the blockade. There was little to buy and likely few funds to make purchases.
And then she spied a golden corset and gloves.
Gloves!
She looked down at her bandaged hand. That would draw the type of attention that she did not want. She wanted it elsewhere on her person.
She may have never been kissed, but she had been to enough entertainments that she knew where men tended to look, and it wasn’t at a woman’s hands or her face, but a bandage may be a distraction.
Taking a deep breath, she entered the shop to examine the gloves.
“May I help you?” the woman asked and Tempest easily slipped into the French dialect spoken in Martinique.
“I am looking for gloves,” she explained.
The woman frowned when she noted the bandage.
“I burned myself and would rather cover the bandage than explain.”
The woman smiled in understanding as Tempest selected a pair of gloves then wandered around the shop that seemed to carry accessories and undergarments before she stopped beside the gold corset and sighed.
“It is lovely but not practical for something that would be seen by few,” the woman said.
Except Tempest intended for it to be seen by many, her reputation be damned. And, why wasn’t this woman trying to sell it to her?
“My husband would like it,” she said as she imagined Rhys seeing her in such, and her face heated.
“Are you newly wed?” the woman asked.
“Qui.” She ran her hands along the silken material. “May I see if it fits?” she asked quietly, as if she were embarrassed.
