Matteo’s head high, he paced off his energy. Today he would escape this place, find Scarlet, and work together with her to put an end to the terror in France. The plan was in motion, including a brilliant rescue of Her Majesty, Marie Antoinette. Within moments of preparing himself to leave the cell, his door slammed open and a sobbing, hysterical Scarlet was thrown in to him, landing in a heap at his feet. Immediately he reached for her, pulling her trembling, heaving body into his arms.

“What have you done to her?”

His cry went unheard. His cell door had already closed. Sitting in his only chair, he cradled her, hugging her to his chest. Her frame was much thinner, her lips dry and cracked. “There, my love. It is I, Matteo.” He lifted his tankard of water and wet her lips.

She swallowed eagerly and then rested her head against his chest. “I wish to sleep.”

He whispered endearments, rubbing her back and running his hands through her hair until she quieted and the time between her shudders lengthened.

Eventually, her breathing evened and slowed, and he could tell by the new rhythm she must be asleep. Sadness pricked him at the reminder of his, as yet, unfamiliarity with her sleeping frame, but he pushed that aside and went about the task of checking her for any obvious injuries. Without disturbing her position or closeness to him, his eyes travelled over the limbs he could see. She seemed physically unharmed. He adjusted his body and his arms so that he could withstand many hours holding her while she slept, and then he closed his own eyes, enjoying the rise and fall of her chest and the feel of her heartbeat.

His mind worked through the plan. How would they accommodate her escape? He reviewed scenarios and options, questioned, and studied. There had to be a way to free her as well. If Simon had not already been apprised, he would need to know as soon as was possible. He hoped it was Abella who brought the food at supper. He guessed she would come in a few more hours.

After a good long rest and all of Matteo’s limbs beginning to feel numb, Scarlet stirred in his arms. She gasped in a sharp breath and opened her eyes. Making a slight whimpering sound, she whipped her head around to face him, tensing. Then, making out his features, she fell back against him, breathing out in relief. “Matteo.”

“Yes, I’m here.”

She remained quiet for a moment. “How long have you been here in prison?”

“I don’t know exactly. I may have missed count at the beginning, but I think it has been seven days.”

She nodded. “That sounds right. Have you heard from Simon?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”