“They are in pursuit, my lady. But we are only minutes from Calais. We will lose them there, rendezvous with your new French amour, and be off to Dover in no time.”

Scarlet took a deep breath, ignoring the amour comment. Her eyes sharpened, and she said, “Perhaps we should allow them to stop us. I find I might enjoy a bit of conversation with Mademoiselle Éléonore Duplay.”

Simon frowned. “Do you think she is with them?”

Scarlet nodded. “I have no doubt. Yes, Simon, let’s have a bit of fun with this one, shall we?”

Simon raised his eyebrow and smiled wickedly down at her. Then he closed the hatch. As Éléonore became more of an opponent, Scarlet sought to understand her, wanted to see what rattled the woman. The carriage sped up, and the countryside whirled past them. They closed the last quarter of a mile in record time.

Calais spread out before them in a beautiful array of colors. Scarlet noticed all the usual sellers out on the streets, offering their wares. Rows of flowers perfumed the air next to fishermen, twine, and netting. The fishmongers provided their own aromas on the other side of the market, near the butcher’s carts. Sellers of fruit, sailors’ trinkets, folds of fabric, and exotic spices filled stalls and tables. Often, Calais gifted her with a sense of adventure but today, only the urging to return home.

Their carriage weaved through rows of carts and up and down thoroughfares. When they turned onto the busiest street in all of Calais, they were forced to a walk and were flanked by carriages, hacks, and donkey carts, all come to the seaside town for leisure or business or both. She turned, peering out the back window above her seat. Their pursuers followed, four carriages back. She smiled in anticipation. Then she startled as her own door opened, and Comte Durand stepped inside. Her mouth opened in shock, and she waited for him to explain himself.

“I saw your carriage, so I vacated my cabbage cart, as fine an equipage as it was, and returned to you.”

She closed her eyes. “Comte Durand.”

Eyebrows raised, he opened his mouth in question.

It was possible her tone held hints of her exasperation. “We are being pursued.”

Eyes opened wider, he said, “Pursued? Here?”

She nodded slowly.

His forehead wrinkled in concern, and he whipped his head around to search the carriages around them.

She appraised him and then rapped on the roof.

Simon opened up the hatch. “Blast, man! What are you doing here?”

Opening his mouth to respond, Comte Durand paused and then shrugged. “Apparently not my brightest idea.”

“Oh, never mind.” Simon shut the hatch. Scarlet knew his mind had already begun sorting through their limited options.