Killian led them to a long table, heavy laden with blazing candelabras and platters of food. Would they eat? she wondered. Dani was too anxious to tolerate rich party food, but she would—
“I beg your pardon, Colonel,” called a voice from behind them. The words were in French and Killian wouldn’t immediately understand. Dani grabbed him by the arm. They turned to see the official from the front gate. His skepticism had vanished, replaced by deference and a wide-eyed urgency.
“The Comte d’Moulac wishes to extend a very warm welcome to Her Serene Highness, Princess Danielle,” the official said. “That is, he would very much like to welcome her himself.” He bowed lowly.
Dani glanced at Killian, uncertain if her brother-in-law understood the man’s rapid speech. With Fernsby gone, there was no one to smooth over Killian’s mediocre French. Before Killian could answer, Dani told the official, “If it pleases his lordship, I should like some refreshment before any introductions.”
“But of course,” enthused the official. “A footman will prepare a tray. The comte will be honored to share his private table with Her Serene Highness.”
Dani frowned at this. Beside her, Marie fingered the heavy wooden cross hanging around her neck.
“The princess will welcome an introduction to the comte in due time,” said Sister Marie, “but first she would recover from our journey. She is newly returned from exile and not accustomed to society, as we’ve said. If you please, might we be shown to a withdrawing room? I will see to her comfort. After she’s taken some respite, Her Serene Highness will be better prepared to make the acquaintance of the Comte d’Moulac.”
The servant considered this, biting his lip and glancing over his shoulder. It occurred to Dani that the comte lurked nearby,observing her. Killian and Marie must’ve assumed the same, because her brother-in-law stepped close and Marie took Dani by the arm.
“If you please, sir,” Dani added with a snap.
After another hesitation, the man bowed and led them from the main hall down a dark corridor. The passage led to a warm parlor with plush furnishing and a bright fire. A handful of old women were scattered about the room, their heads bent together in gossip.
“Absolutely not,” snapped Marie. “Somewhere private. The princess does not congregate with strangers.”
The man faltered and looked again over his shoulder. “Aprivateroom would have to be made ready,” he told them. “It will take time.”
“See to it, if you please,” Marie said.
The official looked uncomfortable. “But can I impose upon Your Highness to wait here while the room is readied?”
“I don’t suppose she has a choice,” Marie snapped. She bowed to Dani. “After you, Princess.”
Mimicking the rudeness and entitlement of Giles Stinchcomb, Dani glided into the small room. She’d never before condescended to servants—before Eastwell Park, there’d been no servants to whom to condescend—but she understood her role. She also understood the strategy. They were drifting deeper into the castle. If a private room could be arranged, not only would they be deeper still, they would be unobserved.
“The headache again, Highness?” Marie asked loudly. The occupants of the parlor eavesdropped with keen interest. “Perhaps fresh air would be the best remedy. If there is a smokier castle in Christendom, I’ve not seen it.”
“Fresh air would be lovely,” Dani mused, touching a gloved hand to her temple.
Five minutes later, the three of them hurried down the corridor in the opposite direction. At every door they passed, Killian tested the knob. After four tries, they found an unlocked door to an empty room.
Swiping a candle from the wall, Killian ushered them into the room and closed the door. “Well, that was simpler than I’d hoped,” he whispered. “Now, we separate. The two of you are obviously guests. If you’re stopped and questioned while you wander the corridors, claim that you’ve lost your way.” While he spoke, he peeled from his uniform, stripping to peasant’s clothes underneath.
“Can you spare me, Marie?” he asked the nun.
“Of course.”
“Remember the rendezvous point?”
“Of course,” repeated Sister Marie. She sounded mildly annoyed.
“If you encounter Bannock,” Killian went on, “and herefusesto leave the castle because of some death wish for Surcouf,leave him.”
“But Killi—”
“Danielle, Elise and I want to serve your husband’s best interests, truly we do, but we’ve put too many lives at stake to indulge his revenge plot. My priority is leaving this country with everyone I brought into it. Bannock must cooperate. Our purpose here is to extract him and the old man, not to lay siege to a French officer in his own bloody castle.”
“We will not take unnecessary risk, Killian,” assured Marie.
“This from a woman who accompanied my future wife into Bishopsgate in the middle of the night. And after that, into a burning building.”
“You’re welcome, Mr. Crewes,” Marie said. Dani chuckled. She’d heard the story of Sister Marie and Elise rescuing Killian from a house fire before they married.
