Alex staggered toward her, then bent to pick up the soldier’s fallen gun. He glanced at the closed door, and she knew from the growing noise that any second the soldiers and De´charne´ could rush in.
Alex held out his hand, and Lucia forced her frozen body from the wall. She stepped quickly over the soldiers’ crumpled forms, trying not to look at their bloody faces. She almost screamed as she tripped over two more men lying face down outside.
“We’re almost there.”
Dewhurst was striding toward them, a waiting carriage behind him. “Where the devil have you been? I’ve had to take on half the French army.”
“We’ve got the other half inside,” Alex retorted, dragging her toward Dewhurst and the carriage.
Lucia scanned the conveyance quickly. It was a cheap coach and four with curtains that could be pulled for privacy. The door was flung open in readiness, but there was no driver. “Who’s going to—” she began, then squeaked as Alex pushed her inside and slammed the door. A moment later she heard a thump as Alex mounted the perch next to Dewhurst. She was barely seated when the carriage jerked forward, throwing her across the squabs. Behind them, shouts rang out in angry French.
She crawled back to a sitting position and peeked out the back window. As the carriage careened around a corner, her last glimpse of the brothel was De´charne´’s ominous glower.
She sank back down. They would never get out of this. This heavy coach could not possibly outrun trained men on horseback.
The coach rounded another corner, and she was thrown against the wall as two wheels left the ground. Lord, but she was a fool for even worrying about the soldiers. The two lunatics driving the coach would kill her long before De´charne´’s men caught up. She had just climbed onto the seat again, her body jouncing painfully, when the first shots rang out. Screeching, she dropped to the floor again and covered her ears. Oh, God, please let Alex be all right.
The noise of their pursuers grew louder, and Lucia peered through the swinging curtains of the carriage at a soldier on horseback beside them. She squeezed her body against the floor, yelping when she heard another gunshot. When she next looked up, the soldier was gone.
Just as quickly, another took his place, galloping ahead of the window. The carriage rocked and bounced, then she heard a thump and cursing from the driver’s box. She climbed to her knees, cringing when a dull thwack echoed from the perch, then tried to sit up again. The wheels rolled over something and she bounced a foot in the air and came crashing down to the floor. Lucia didn’t want to contemplate what the carriage had run over.
They took another corner on two wheels, and a moment later, the sounds of pursuit quieted, then ceased. She frowned. Had they gotten away that easily? Cautiously she peered up at the window, but there was no sign of soldiers. The coach began to slow, and she took a relieved breath when she heard Alex say, “Whoa.”
Putting a hand to her racing heart, she scraped herself from the floor. She was barely on her knees when the door flung open, and Alex pulled her out and into his arms.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, running his hands over her quickly.
“I’m fine,” she managed.
He cupped her face, staring at her as if he didn’t believe it. The look in his eyes was so tender, so full of love and concern, she forgot to breathe.
Then, with a quick kiss, he released her and went to Freddie. She leaned against the carriage, cursing her wobbly legs as Alex and Freddie nimbly unhitched the horses. The men worked rapidly, and Lucia looked about for signs of De´charne´’s men. They had pulled into a small deserted alley, but she didn’t think it would be long before the soldiers found them.
As if reading her mind, Alex said, “We’ve only escaped the two soldiers that mounted the fastest. There were more behind them, and it won’t take long for them to find us.”
Lucia took a shaky breath, her ears straining for the sound of hoofbeats.
Alex was beside her a moment later, lifting her onto one of the horses he and Dewhurst had unharnessed. There was no saddle, and she gripped the reins tightly. He grabbed another horse and led it beside hers. But instead of mounting, he turned to Dewhurst, who was readying a third animal.
“I’m taking her to Paris,” Alex said, nodding to her. “There’s no possibility of making it to the docks now.”
“There’s plenty of—” Freddie began, then seemed to think better of it.
“Have you been identified?” Alex asked.
“No.” Dewhurst shook his head. “Whoever tipped De´charne´ off didn’t know about me. They were only looking for you two.”
“How did they know where to find us?”
“I don’t know. Sophie?”
“No. She sent Brigitte to warn us.”
Dewhurst pulled on his cuffs, and Lucia could almost read his thoughts. He was searching his mind desperately for any piece of information that would point to the traitor.
“See what you can find out,” Alex ordered. “And be careful. Meet me in five days at the Good Patriot on the outskirts of Calais. You know the place?”
“No. But I’ll find it.”
