She brought a hand to her throat. “I don’t know what to say. Bless you all for this wonderful act of mercy.” She wiped away a lone tear from her cheek. Marie-Thérèse reached for her hand. The two adjusted themselves for the greatest comfort and closed their eyes, hearts filled with hope for the first time in many months since the death of dear King Louis XVI. One small, sharp worry persisted, but Scarlet had assured her that her young Louis, the dauphin, now rightful king himself, would be spared also. The horses raced through the darkness toward the sea.

Chapter Twenty-Six

How had Marie Antoinette endured prison day after day? Scarlet fought her own restlessness, reading stories to a wad of pillows wrapped in bedding. Just a few more hours and the rightful monarch would be on board The Sally, and Scarlet could make her way out the window to her league below. If she must, she would make known her disguise, calling on her closeness to Prince George, but they might send her to the guillotine anyway; or, if they let her go, she would no longer be safe in France as Scarlet Cavendish. With any luck, she would hear the sound of rocks on her windowpane that very night and escape.

So far, the plan had worked just as she hoped. She turned away from the guards at mealtimes and found it easy to play the part of the lovely Marie, doting on her daughter, Marie-Thérèse. No one the wiser, her only danger had been a slow death by monotony.

Shouts from downstairs distracted her, as well as the clanking of metal and the sound of hooves on the cobblestone. She entered the main room of her two-room domain. Outside the door, loud hurried footsteps in the hallway rushed toward her.

When Scarlet recognized a shrill female command, she pressed her lips into a fine line and commanded her clenched fists to relax. Checking that her blades were still fastened to her bodice, she turned around with just enough time to face Éléonore head on, chin high.

“Oh, my dear Éléonore! How lovely of you to visit.” She held her hands out in welcome, reaching for a quick embrace.

“Dispense with the pleasantries. We’ve come to arrest you.”

Fanning her face nonchalantly, she said, “Arrest me? Don’t be silly. As you can see, I am already in prison. And what is my crime? Playing nursemaid to the queen’s lovely child?” Stalling for time to create an escape plan, she couldn’t resist a bit of fun with the excitable Éléonore Duplay.

“For aiding in her escape. The former queen herself and her daughter left here two evenings ago, with your assistance.”