It is Louise who recognizes me first. She leaps from the couch where she has been playing with her doll and runs forward, flinging herself at me. I pull her close, savoring the feel of her small arms wrapped around my neck. She has grown thin and frail, and her cheeks bear an unhealthy flush. Tephanie watches her with a mixture of surprise and dismay until her startled gaze moves up to my face. Her mouth drops open and her hand flies to her face. “My lady.”
I hold my finger to my lips and pray she is loyal to me and the girls.
Slowly, Charlotte rises from the couch, her solemn brown eyes never leaving my face. “I knew you’d come,” she says, and I open my arms to her as well. Stiffly, she walks over to me, but she does not throw herself at me like Louise. She has always been more formal, so I reach out and pull her close. Only then does she relax into my embrace.
Tephanie glances to the door. “My lady. It is not safe for you here. They say . . . they say the most horrible things about you.”
I smile at her. “Some of them may even be true,” I tell her. “But for now, I have come to get the girls to safety.”
Tephanie crosses herself. “Then my prayers have not been in vain.”
“You must come with us, Tephanie, or else you will be gravely punished for their disappearance.”
Her earnest gaze meets mine. “My lady, I would follow you anywhere.”
“Good. Then follow us to safety.” I set the girls from me, but Louise sways on her feet. I let go of Charlotte’s hand and pick up Louise so I may carry her in my arms. “Grab their cloaks. And boots. And any warm clothing you can find quickly. We do not have much time.”
She nods and hurries to the chest at the far side of the room.
I turn my attention back to the girls. “We must be very, very quiet. If anyone sees us, they will try to stop us, and we may never see one another again. Do you understand?”
Both nod solemnly, and Tephanie returns with her arms full of garments. “Shall I dress them now, my lady?”
“No, there will be time enough when we reach safety. Can you carry all that?”
“Yes, but what about you? Can you carry Louise the whole way?”
“I will not have to.” Just as we are ready to leave, there is a sound at the door. I whirl around to find Jamette staring at us.
“You’re back? I had hoped you would never return.”
“A minute more and I won’t,” I tell her. “The girls and I are leaving, and you will never have to see me again.”
Indecision flits across her pretty, shallow face and I find that all the hatred I once felt for her is gone. “Come with us if you like. You do not need to stay here.”
“No.” She all but spits the word. “I will not betray my lord father. Or yours.”
Suddenly, I am afraid for her, afraid the full force of our fathers’ anger will land on her silly head. “Do not be a fool, for they do not bear you the same loyalty and would wring your neck as soon as listen to your prattle. Come with us. You can have a new life, free of all this lying and deceit.”
Bitterness flashes in her eyes and she takes a step closer to me, her hands gripping her skirts. “I do not want a new life. I have always only wanted your life. All the admiration you commanded, all the attention you garnered, all the riches heaped upon you—those would be mine if you were gone.”
“If that is what you want, then all you must do is let us go.”
She shakes her head. “It is not that simple, and well you know it. I will be horribly punished if I do not stop you.”
And she is right. As she turns to go, I reach out to grab her, but Louise is heavy and I am not fast enough. Jamette steps beyond my grasp and dashes down the hallway.
I turn to the others. “We must go. Now.”
The hallway is still clear, but it will be only a matter of minutes before others arrive. I clasp Louise tightly, hold Charlotte’s hand, and pull them toward the bedchamber and Beast. If the guards find us before we reach safety, Beast will be our only hope.
Chapter Forty-Eight
WHEN WE ENTER THE ROOM, he looks up, the ferocity of his expression startling even to me. Then his gaze goes unerringly to Louise. Charlotte shrinks into my skirts, but Louise studies him curiously. “Who are you?” she asks in her high, clear voice. Beast glances at me, helpless, and I see agony in his eyes.
“Do not be afraid of him, Louise.”
“I’m not,” she says, sounding faintly affronted.
“Good. For he was very close to your mother and will see you to safety, no matter what happens. You, too,” I tell Charlotte. Then I turn my full attention to Beast. “We must hurry,” I warn him. “I was spotted, and Jamette has gone to raise the alarm.”
He nods, then looks surprised as I thrust Louise into his arms. “We will need a diversion so they do not discover your escape route. I must stay behind,” I say.
At his horrified expression, I rush to explain. “They cannot come anywhere near this room, else the passageway will be discovered and they will find you within minutes.”
“I will not leave you here!”
His eyes! Oh, his eyes! The fury and the anguish in them rob me of my breath. Two things define him—his honor and his loyalty—and he is being asked to abandon one of them.
Sensing his anger, Louise shifts restlessly in his arms, drawing his attention back to her. Using that to my advantage, I thrust Charlotte’s hand in his, quickly kiss both girls, then begin pushing them toward the bedchamber. “You must get them safely away. Everything else can wait.”
“I will be back,” he says, then leans forward and plants a savage, desperate kiss upon my lips, as if he would have me feel the force of his promise.
I do not indulge myself by watching them go but instead turn and take off the distinctive blue habit so d’Albret will not think to punish the Brigantian convent. I stuff it in one of the chests in the room and then peer out into the hall. I can hear approaching footsteps in the distance, but no one is within sight yet, so I step into the corridor and begin running in the opposite direction.
The sounds behind me draw closer, but if I can gain the main floor, I may be able to slip out the doors and lose myself among the servants in the courtyard. I hit the stairs at a full run, but my hope is quickly crushed by the sound of boots rushing toward me.
It is not the guards or soldiers or even Captain de Lur, but Julian. “Sybella!” His voice is full of both hope and caution. “You’re back!”