“An unwelcome turn of events,” Malcolm said, dragging his mask back into place.
Serena agreed. A pleasant afternoon had suddenly become another possibly perilous outing.
The initial sounds, which she’d identified as men calling out orders, had quietened, but a wave of whispers carried through the museum halls, until Serena thought she heard“la rousse.”
A red-haired woman!
Deciding she must be imagining it, she started to ask the others if they thought they should simply try to leave. After all, Malcolm could be in danger. However, her grand-père’s severe expression and Malcolm’s clenched jaw made her hold her tongue.
And suddenly, blue-and-white uniformed grenadiers were upon them, soldiers who personally served the emperor.
“That one,” said an Imperial Guard in the front, a shiny sabre hanging from his belt.
Another approached, the red plume in his tall, black bearskin hat swaying as he walked.
“Possibly,” he said with a distinctly Polish accent. He was one of thechevau-légers, volunteers who had followed the Emperor into his exile on Elba and helped him to return.
“Take her along with the other two,” said the first.
Serena’s grand-mère and Madame Fournier both exclaimed aloud in dismay.
“What is the meaning of this?” Henri Renault demanded. “You cannot take my granddaughter.”
“We can, monsieur. The emperor commands it.”
Serena glanced toward Malcolm, expecting to find only an empty place where he’d been standing. Unlike at the Palais du Luxembourg, however, probably because of his costume, he stood steadily by her side.
“Why are you taking her and where?” he asked calmly.
“To the Palais des Tuileries,” the first grenadier said. “The why of it, I cannot say.”
“She is innocent,” Adèle said, grabbing Serena’s arm.
“If she is innocent, madame, then she has no reason to fear,” the Polish-accented guard replied.
By Serena’s side, Malcolm was bristling with restrained energy, but there was nothing he could do under the circumstances. Then, to her surprise, Pépère pried her grand-mère’s hand off her arm, much to Adèle’s consternation.
“She has done nothing wrong. You may take her,” her grand-père said, “but I will go with her.”
“I’m afraid you have no say in the matter, nor can you go with us.”
“It is improper for you to—” Madame Fournier spoke up, trying to do her duty.
She was interrupted immediately. “We are taking other females. If you and your party wish to follow behind, you may wait at the gates of the palace with their families.”
Serena didn’t want her grandparents to argue with the Imperial Guards any longer. After all, Bonaparte had always been kind to her. She was his favorite vintner. He’d said so himself.
“I will go with them.” She sent Malcolm a quick glance, wishing she could see more of his face, but the firm set of his lips spoke of the situation’s gravity. Regardless, she plastered on a bright, undaunted smile and turned to the soldiers. “I am ready, messieurs.”
The uniformed men looked impressed, and Serena felt courageous until she took a few steps away from Malcolm and her grandparents with the grenadiers flanking her.
“Do not worry,” her grand-mère called after her.
But Malcolm and her grand-père’s silence filled her ears. If they were worried, she probably had cause to be as well.
***
MALCOLM RAN VERY FASTuntil he was back in his garret and snatching up his baker’s disguise. Shedding his costume and his normal garments, he donned the loose, rough clothing of the baker before heading to the boulangerie. Frustrating him, Monsieur Marineau had already closed for the day.
