Chapter Twenty-One
Propped up on pillows Philippe greeted them warmly. “I heard voices. What goes on? Who is this?”
Anthony performed the introductions. Phillippe had been anxious and beaten down at the loss of Josette, but he listened with enthusiasm to Christian as he outlined their possibilities for escape. How soon could they safely move him? They would all die if they waited too long.
“François has promised to make discreet inquiries about the Chouans,” Philippe said.
Anthony was unenthusiastic. He found it difficult to place his daughter’s life in the hands of strangers who might not consider rescuing the English of vital importance. Not when so many French were in need.
When he and Christian left Philippe’s bedroom, Anthony paused and chose his words with care. “I made enquiries at the House of Lords. I expect you’re here on behalf of the government.”
Christian’s forehead furrowed. “You inquired about me?
Anthony nodded. “After Baroness La Trobe’s ball.”
Humor lurked in Christian’s eyes. “Perceptive of you.”
“I know my daughter. If you don’t wish to marry her, you’d best slip away during the night.”
“Then I have your permission to court her after we return to London?”
“You do.” Anthony doubted he would have agreed to this quite so easily if they had remained in London. This changed all of them, irrevocably it seemed.
Christian’s lips twitched. “My plan was to retire to my country house and fish for trout.”
“Is it still?”
Christian scratched his head. “I can’t see your daughter agreeing to that. Can you?”
Anthony paused with his hand on the stair rail. “Hetta grew up in the country and loves the life. She was excited to come to London too, but after this...” He shrugged, and his smile faded. “First, we must get her safely home.”
“We’ll put our heads together, come up with a plan.” Christian shrugged. “I have some experience of finding a safe route out of France. Although it has become more difficult.”
Anthony found Verity alone in the kitchen. “Come for a walk.”
They left the cottage and strolled the front garden hand in hand. When he stopped and turned her face up to his, she sighed and leaned into him. “I couldn’t save him.” Her blue eyes flooded with tears. “He was doomed from the first. Nothing would have saved him.”
“Oh, my love.” He held her close while she cried, her slim frame racked with sobs. Then he raised her chin and pressed a soft kiss on her lips tasting her tears.
She wiped her eyes with a finger. “You shan’t want to comfort me when I confess all.” She slipped out of his arms. Swung away. Came back again. “Danton sent me to London to… lure you to France. If I failed, my father was to be guillotined.”
Shock robbed him of breath. Then his stomach clenched with disappointment, and the first rumblings of anger.
She reached out a hand to him, but didn’t touch him. “You won’t be able to forgive me that.” Her face crumped. “But I couldn’t do it, Anthony, because I came to care for you. I came to France to warn you, even at the risk of my father’s life.”
At the distress on her face compassion flooded through him. She’d been driven to save her father from the first. If she’d wanted to sacrifice Anthony all she had to do was go and tell Danton, he was in Paris. Not carry out that dangerous rescue. A man was lucky to have such daughters. Like Verity, Henrietta had risked everything to save him. And they’d pulled it off, by God!
He wasn’t a vain man. He felt no outrage that she’d chosen him as her lover merely to save her father. “Your Papa must have been justly proud of you. You are the best of daughters.”
She shook her head dismissively. “You are angry and offended about our time together in London. I can only say that after that first time, I wanted you. You’ve become very dear to me.” She looked at him imploringly. “Do you hate me?” she whispered.
He took her by the shoulders to keep her still when she threatened to dance away from him again. “Never. That’s all in the past. I love you, Verity.” He smiled into her tear-washed eyes. “I should thank Danton for bringing us together.”
“You are treating me with kid gloves,” she said, but she smiled a little.
“What the deuce does Danton want with me?”
“When I returned to Paris yesterday, I went to see him. I implored him to give me news of my father. He’d learned of your escape and was furious. He then told me something else.”
