We outlined the plan to go to France with Lord Evan and Mr. Kent—as far as Mr. Whitmore’s strictures allowed—and the dangers of moving through enemy territory. Throughout, Weatherly nodded, and I could see he had already made up his mind to accompany us. It was in the set of his jaw and the squaring of his shoulders. Even so, I had to make sure he understood the true danger of the mission for him, alone, before he made his decision.

“There is one further danger that you will face if you decide to come with us, Weatherly,” I said.

“What further danger?” my sister asked me, for I had not mentioned it to her before Weatherly’s arrival.

“Bonaparte’s reinstatement of slavery, my lady,” Weatherly said.

I heard my sister’s intake of breath. “The fiend.”

It was not recent news—the reinstatement had occurred ten years ago—but my sister did not follow politics or the subject of slavery laws with as much attention as Weatherly and myself. We had both assisted in Mr. Wilberforce’s abolitionist efforts and, upon the news of Bonaparte’s perfidy in 1802, had grieved for the many hundreds of thousands of people who would consequently be held in bondage.

“But you are a free man, Weatherly,” Julia said.

“I am a free man on British soil, my lady. There is a legal assumption of freedom here. It is not so certain in France. Not anymore.”

“It adds to the danger for you, my friend,” I said. “I meant what I said in the forest. There is no obligation for you to accompany us on this mad quest. We will understand if you decline.”

Weatherly acknowledged my restatement with a sober nod. “Thank you. However, your father saw something within me, my ladies, and offered me the chance to live like any other free British man. Upon my departure from his house to take up my position at yours, he asked me to ensure your safety and well-being. I gave my word I would do so.” He gave one of his rare smiles. “So I will come to France, and I will ensure your safety.”

“Oh, Weatherly, are you certain?” Julia said softly.

“I am.”

“Thank you,” I said. “And we will ensure your safety.”

“Then we have every chance of success,” Weatherly said.

The choice of our second servant had prompted some debate between Julia and me, for we needed a lady’s maid and we both had stalwart, discreet women serving us. In the end we decided to ask Tully. Most lady’s maids knew some French—it was a general requirement of the position—but Leonard, Julia’s maid, only knew some French phrases, whereas Tully had learned the language at her Huguenot grandmother’s knee.