Unwillingly, Jane let herself be pulled along. ‘My travel arrangements? But you cannot think that I would leave while they have Vincent.’

Mme Chastain patted her hand. ‘There, there. You have had quite the shock. Let Bruno explain it all, and I am certain it will help you think more clearly.’

Jane was thinking quite clearly. She could do nothing but think. Her mind replayed the scene, searching for some different action she could have taken. Had she not delayed Vincent, he would have been well on his way to Brussels by now. Though she might fancy that he would still be at liberty if that were the case, the more likely scenario was that they would have captured him on the road, and then no one would know where he had gone. At least this way, she knew who had taken him.

Likewise, if she left Binché, then how would she find out where he was? No. The only sensible course of action was to stay in town until circumstances warranted her following Vincent somewhere else. Simply knowing where he was, of course, would not be enough, for there was nothing she could do on her own. She would need to apply to Mr. Gilman for assistance. Not knowing Vincent’s codes well enough to write a letter, she would have to go to Mr. Gilman herself and alert him not only to Vincent’s capture, but also to the involvement of Anne-Marie.

The scene downstairs was one of chaos barely contained. Servants sped through the halls, carrying items to store or pack out of sight. M. Archambault dashed past, hurrying upstairs with a text book tucked under his arm.

Mme Chastain led Jane down the hall to M. Chastain’s study. He stood by his desk, sorting the pile of papers upon it. Over half of them he cast upon the fire burning in his grate. The rest he tucked into a wooden crate which already had books piled within. As they entered, he dropped those papers he still held into the box, heedless of their order.

Coming around the desk, he took Jane by the shoulders and kissed her on both cheeks. ‘Jane, I am deeply ashamed. I value David as my own brother and would have done anything to stop them if I could.’

‘Of course.’ Jane, distracted by the bustle around them, gestured to the box on the desk. ‘Are you going somewhere?’