know, but I don’t.”
“Valenciennes, of course. We are closer to Valenciennes than anywhere else. I told you that, yes?”
“Probably,” Rian answered, cursing himself for not paying more attention when Lisette spoke to him. But it was so much easier to drift, to think of nothing of any consequence. Although he felt more alert tonight. Perhaps making love to Lisette helped to concentrate his mind? He could think of worse ways to nudge his brain. “I’ll need a map, Lisette. To see how far we are from the coast.”
“There is no need,” she told him quickly. “I have been planning this for some time now. Since the day the Comte stroked my hair and asked if my hair was this same color…everywhere. He is a filthy man, Rian, and I must be gone before he returns. And if he knew that you…that you had gotten to me before him, your life would be forfeit, no matter his plans for you. You see that, don’t you? For all of this, we must go. I have sneaked into the Comte’s study, I have seen a map. I have a route already decided.”
“He asked you such a crude question? Bastard. No wonder you’re frightened,” Rian said, his right hand balling into a fist. He would like to linger, to thank his benefactor, and then knock him down. How long had Lisette lived with this fear? “Are we within walking distance to the coast?”
She shook her head. “Not if anyone were to come looking for us, no. We would needs must move faster than that. But I have a plan for how to get the money we will need for the journey.”
“Of course you do. You have a head full of plans, don’t you, Lisette?”
“Do not laugh at me. You could no more fight off the Comte than could I. Oh! Je suis très stupide! Don’t frown! I’m sorry, Rian. I didn’t mean that. I really didn’t.”
“So you don’t see me in the role of protector? How shocking. Never mind, Lisette. I know my worth as a protector now. I know how useless I am. Tell me about your plan.”
“I am so sorry to have said that, Rian.”
“Lisette, enough. The plan.”
“If you’ve forgiven me? Very well. I will steal from the Comte, of course. I volunteered to houseclean his private chambers this past spring, and that lent me the excuse to rip and tear everywhere, to find every last bit of dirt. I am very good at finding dirt. I found a leather purse at the back of his wardrobe.”
“And you took it? That was dangerous, Lisette.”
She looked at him as if he’d just told her he could fly. “Of course I didn’t take it, Rian. I left it just where it was. After I’d counted the coins inside it. Gold coins, Rian Becket. English coins. Worth even more than their weight in gold now that the French treasury is in shambles. The purse is still there, and still full. I checked on it tonight, to be sure, before I came to you. That is why I was so late.”
“You’ve thought this out well, Lisette,” he said carefully. “There’s only one thing I don’t understand. Why would you wish to slow your escape by taking me along with you?”
“I said I was sorry, Rian Becket. I didn’t mean that you are helpless.”
“Yes, thank you yet again, but that doesn’t answer my question.”
“You said…you said you would miss me. I would miss you, too.”
Rian smiled, relaxed. This was what living with secrets did to a person. It made him leery even of people whose only thought was to help, to be a friend.
But then he thought of something else. Something Lisette had said to him that afternoon, something he’d forgotten until now, and her mention of ransom. “You think the Comte took me in because he might have some use for me?”
“I said that?”
“You did. More than once. Don’t dissemble, Lisette, I need to hear the truth. You said this employer of yours does nothing unless there is a reason. I don’t have my head completely up my— I do remember some things, even when my mind insists on wandering down its own paths.”
“Your mind dances in mists, Rian, but that is only because you nearly died. And you are better each day. This past fortnight, you have been very much improved. Very well. There are rumors—rumors only—that the Comte finds different inventive ways to keep himself wealthy. As a traitor to France, I am convinced, tossing his hat into whichever camp he sees most likely to benefit him. I can only think he means to ransom you, now that you aren’t going to die. It is not all that uncommon. Others have done this.”
Her explanation seemed reasonable, to a point. The Comte couldn’t know for certain, simply because he’d worn the uniform of an officer—granted, one especially tailored for him in London—that his family had enough money to pay the Comte a ransom sufficient to not only cover the expense of Rian’s recuperation, but also provide him with a handsome profit. Besides, now that England had won the war, the Comte could find himself dangling at the end of a rope for attempting such a trick.
Then again, he might have thought Rian’s family could be his entrée into London society if he were to escort him home to England. Was that too far-fetched a notion? The Comte wouldn’t be the only Frenchman eager to make a splash in English society. Especially one who would appear to like to be allied with the victors? Yes, this prospect made more sense.
There had to be a reason that the man had taken him in, kept him here for four long months. A hope of some reward. Certainly, from Lisette’s description of the man, he was not a saint. The man could be nothing more than an opportunist.
But old habits die hard, and the one of looking at every unknown person with suspicion harder than most, especially for a Becket.
“If you say so, Lisette, then I imagine I have to believe what you believe. One way or another, the Comte sees me as a paying guest. We leave tomorrow evening, all right?”
She nodded furiously. “You will stay here, in your bed all of the day, and I will tell everyone not to disturb you, that I am in charge, caring for your new fever. You will rest, take your medicine without arguing with me, and I will bring you food, more than enough for your needs, so that we can pack it, take it with us.”
“No more medicine, Lisette.”
“But you must, Rian! You know you’re not yet entirely well. What would I do with you, on the road, if you really were to fall into another fever?”
“Leaving me behind would be one answer,” he said, smiling at her fierce expression. “Very well, another thing for us to discuss at some other time. We should probably delay our departure until after dark.”
Once again, she nodded, and then smiled, as if delighted that he shared her opinion. “We’ll walk to the outskirts of Valenciennes, where we should be able to hire a coach. Not a good one, I’m afraid, as that might raise suspicion, but one that will serve our needs. From there, we’ll stop whenever you feel the need to rest, until we arrive at the coast. A pity your fine English uniform was ruined. Does a ship passage cost a terrible amount of money? There are twenty-two gold coins in the Comte’s purse, but I don’t know what English coins are worth.”
“More than twenty? We should be able to hire our own small boat, Lisette, with that much money. One that can take us across the Channel to Dover in a few hours.
