Page 103 of The Boxing Baroness

“We need to go around it,” Elliot said. “There is a royal armament factory in the town.”

They were pulled off to the side of the road, watching as a slow but steady stream of people trickled by.

“A group of French soldiers has arrived and is spreading the rumor of a Prussian attack. The townspeople are boarding up their houses and people are frantic.”

“Is an attack likely?” the duke asked.

“I think they have grounds for their fear,” Elliot said grimly, unfolding the map. “You can go this way without losing too much time.” Elliot traced over the route while he handed the map to Sin.

Marianne rode Reggie closer, and the duke held the map so she could look at it.

“How far is that?” Marianne asked.

“It’ll take you at least five hours.”

“What do you think?” the duke asked her.

She looked at Cecile, who’d been driving the women’s caravan since they’d left Lille.

Her friend looked exhausted, but she nodded, as if she knew what Marianne was asking.

“We can do it tonight,” Marianne said.

“Good. Stop when you are a few miles this side of Boulzicourt and I’ll find you.” Elliot turned to his horse.

“Why aren’t you going with us?” Guy asked.

“I’m going back to Charleville; I want to see if I can get more recent news on Bonaparte’s movements.”

“You don’t want to rest and eat first?” Sin asked.

Elliot had been going for days, and the dark smudges beneath his eyes said the strain was taking its toll.

“No, I’ll find a few hours to rest once I’ve returned to town.”

“Here.” Sonia climbed down from the bench she’d been sharing with Barnabas and handed him a wax-paper-wrapped bundle.

Elliot’s face lit up. “Thank you.” He unwrapped the sandwich and handed back the paper, grinning. “I’ll eat it while I ride.”

Once he’d gone, Sonia passed out the sandwiches she’d made. The older couple kept to themselves most of the time, which was fine with Marianne. Every time she looked at Sonia, she felt like a fool. Dozens of snide comments the woman had made over the years came back to her, making sense for the first time.

Anger roiled in her belly as she snatched the food from Sonia. “I’m going to ride,” she said to nobody in particular.

The duke fell in beside her a few minutes later, munching on his dinner. “Do you want mine?” she asked, holding the uneaten sandwich toward him.

“You need to eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

His cool glance told her that he knew why she wasn’t eating—because of who’d made the sandwich. Her behavior was irrational—she knew that.

She didn’t care.

After a long moment, he took the food. “I’ll hold on to it for you.”

“How long will we stop?”

“If we can find somewhere safe and comfortable, I’m hoping we can rest for a few days.”