David bowed to Beau. “Your lordship.”
“None of that is necessary, Captain,” Beau replied. “I thank you for your service to the Crown.”
“What are we going to do about Winfield and Albina?” Marianne asked, turning back to the dire situation behind them. There would be time for explanations between her brother and Beau later. She hoped.
Beau fished in his shirt front pocket and pulled out a timepiece. He consulted the thing briefly before slipping it back inside the garment. “Don’t worry. Grim wasn’t about to leave us here alone. I expect the reinforcements to arrive any moment. For Winfield’s sake, I do hope they are prompt.”
Marianne furrowed her brow. “What? How does Grim know?”
Beau stood with his feet braced apart. “I sent a letter to Worthington’s ship this morning. It’s something Captain Jones and I spoke about while we were traveling here. The letter was to inform the Home Office operatives working in Calais to meet us here at half past nine.”
Marianne plunked her hands on her hips. “You weren’t planning to tell me?”
“Of course I was. I’m telling you now, aren’t I?” Beau replied, his grin unrepentant.
David, who’d been watching the fire circle said, “I hate to point it out, but there’s no time to argue at present. What’s the plan?”
A far-off clicking sound met Marianne’s ear just before Beau returned the sound with a click of his own tongue.
“They’re here,” Beau said, stepping back. “Lord Harbury, are you with us?” he asked the treeline.
A tree shook and a tall, dark-haired man stepped into the clearing. “I am.”
“Excellent. Would you like to inform us of the plan?” Beau continued.
“We estimate there are no more than two dozen French soldiers out there. We suspect this camp was invented as a ruse to lure Winfield to his fate. We have over fifty men hidden in these woods. When I give the signal, we’ll rush the circle. The goal is to save Baron Winfield and his companion. We need them to tell us what the letter said.”
Beau nodded. He pulled his pistol from the waist of his breeches.
“I don’t have a pistol,” David said, frustration evident in his voice.
“Stay here,” Marianne told her brother.
“You stay here, too,” Beau said to Marianne. “You don’t have a pistol, either.”
“The devil I don’t,” Marianne replied, leaning down and pulling up the leg of her breeches to reveal a small pistol tucked into her boot. “You’re not the only one who keeps secrets.”
She gave Beau a tight smile before Lord Harbury lifted his hand and made a loud clicking sound that was different from the earlier one. The moment that happened, the trees came alive. A rush of men—pistols drawn—streamed forth, surrounding the Frenchmen, who were drunk and mostly unarmed.
A few shots were fired, and in the blur, Marianne saw Beau rush between the men in the circle to untie Albina and toss her over his shoulder. Another British spy grabbed Winfield, and the small group, including Lord Harbury, rushed back into the trees with their haul.
Shouts and shots and general loud noises continued in the clearing near the bonfire while Lord Harbury, Beau, Marianne, and David pushed aside the curtains of the nearest tent and moved inside, dragging the two traitors with them.
Two of Lord Harbury’s aides soon joined them.
David fetched water for Winfield and Albina while the two wiped their wet, soot-stained faces and coughed.
“You saved us,” Winfield cried, when he was finally able to speak. “We nearly died.”
“Don’t think wewantedto save you, traitor,” Lord Harbury pointed out, his voice dripping with disgust. “I have my orders. And they include handing you back over to the French unless you tell us what you did for them.”
Albina was nearly hysterical. David and Marianne took her aside and made her sit on a pile of blankets in the corner and drink more water while Baron Winfield eyed all of them carefully.
“You’re not going to take me back to England? For trial?” the baron asked.
“We will if you tell us what we need to know. Otherwise, we may just have to report that we didn’t get here in time to save you. Believe me, no one will be upset,” Harbury replied.
Winfield finished coughing and rubbed his face and eyes with a towel that Beau had handed him. “Bellingham, I should have known you would be here.”
