“I’m fully aware of the shortcomings of my accent. But I assure you, I’ve managed not to be executed because of it, so far. If this were Prussia or even Russia, mademoiselle, I would be the one helping you.”
Did he really speak those other languages so fluently?Before she could ask, he said, “Will you help me?”
Serena hadn’t expected such a request. “What do you mean?”
“I must get access to the palace. It is vital.”
At this juncture, he made sure to lock his gaze with hers. They stared into one another’s eyes, and Serena knew she couldn’t refuse him. With an inkling they were on the same side, she nodded.
“I shall pretend to be mute,” he offered, “and you must speak for me.”
She, as English as a rainy summer day, would pretend to be French while speaking for the mute Englishman playing the part of a Parisianboulanger. It was like a comedic farce at the theatre.
When she hesitated, he put on a beseeching expression. “Please, Mademoiselle Renault, accompany me back into the reception chamber. Tell Bonaparte you took pity on me when you realized I couldn’t speak.”
She thought about her family and their safety.
“I will not go so far as to tell anyone I believe you are Monsieur Marineau,” she said finally, “but I will speak for you simply to offer the bread from the Boulangerie Marineau. If the bread isn’t good, that is too bad for you.”
His smile grew, and her stomach twinged pleasantly.
“And I suggest you slouch a little,” she advised, as they stepped through the doorway together. “Try to be shorter.”
She hoped she wouldn’t regret her quick decision.
Chapter Five
Malcolm couldn’t hardlycredit his good fortune. Seeing Mademoiselle Renault had shocked him momentarily, especially as she knew he thought Bonaparte a threat to peace on the European continent. Moreover, despite his tale, she probably guessed he was there on the Crown’s business.
Yet she’d agreed to help him when she could easily have turned him in. While he had no way of knowing whether the young Parisian female supported the emperor or the king, Malcolm believed she meant him no harm. And that was as good an ally as he could currently hope for.
“He is a mute,” she said to anyone who asked why she was no longer holding wine but accompanying a tall baker.
“Stoop a little,” he heard her mutter.
Soon, Malcolm found himself face to face with Boney.
