Simon eyed her for a moment and then nodded. “Certainly.” He bowed to her then paused. “No one could possibly save them all. You take so much upon yourself. Be happy with the ones we do bring to safety.” Turning, he moved across the deck and down the stairs below.

Lady Cavendish watched him go, more grateful than ever for such a capable team. Finally alone, she let out a long breath. The east and south barricades were closed, which had left the west barricade as their only option today, and the risks had weighed on her. The ship tilted, and she reached out with shaking hands to steady herself. She willed her shoulders to loosen, her jaw to relax. It might take their entire journey across the channel for her to calm, but thoughts of the sprawling grounds of her estate soothed her.

“Captain!” she called.

“Aye, my lady.”

“Let’s go home.”

1 This phrase is similar to one on the first page of The Scarlet Pimpernel (Baroness Emmuska Orczy, The Scarlet Pimpernel Anthology, vol. I [WilliamsBookseller.com, 2014], 1).

Chapter Two

The cheerful yellow of the walls and the teal and orange in the curtains of her favorite morning room did little to lighten Scarlet’s angst. She clutched a recent letter in her fist, and her foot tapped the floor.

“There is nothing for it but to go back.”

Pulling out a new sheet of white paper and dipping her quill in ink, she began to write. She was so intent upon her missive that, at first, she did not hear Buckley, her butler, clearing his throat and announcing a caller.

He cleared his throat again. “Excuse me, my lady. The Honorable Baroness Lady Pinckney to see you.”

Jarred from her missive, tension gathered around her eyes, the frustration at being interrupted and by such a distasteful visitor intensifying her growing angst. But she said only, “Show her into the front parlor, Buckley, and could you ask for some tea?”

“Very good, my lady.”

She sat back in her chair for one indulgent minute, squeezing the bridge of her nose and closing her eyes. Lady Pinckney. Had the woman no one else to harangue with that tongue of hers? She breathed in deeply. Ridiculous, what this woman reduced her to. Bibot troubled Scarlet only half as much.

She stood, squared her shoulders, and marched, knees up and head high, down the hall to the front parlor. The footman raised his eyebrows, but she returned his gaze with a wink, nodding for him to open the doors.

Lady Pinckney stood immediately and rushed forward, kissing both of Scarlet’s cheeks and gushing over her gown. Smiling stiffly, Scarlet thanked her politely. While Scarlet poured tea, Lady Pinckney relayed all the uncomfortable and disadvantageous things she had heard or seen throughout the week.