"I'm torn," she admitted. "Though I still want Napoleon dead and his tyranny ended, I no longer feel as much need to do it personally. But what will I do to fill the time if I'm not skulking around France and sleeping rough and wearing terrible clothes?"

He chuckled. "I'm sure you'll find worthwhile activities soon enough."

After a silence, she said hesitantly, "I've considered buying an estate in Norfolk near my family and managing it myself. Looking out for the welfare of my tenants, perhaps starting schools-that's work worth doing."

Before he could suggest that marrying him would give her a chance to perform such services, she continued, "What about you? G.o.d willing, it will be years till you inherit the earldom. Will you spend them in wine, women, and dissipation?"

He shuddered. "I had enough of that when I was young. Actually, I've been thinking of Parliament. My father controls a number of seats and one of his MPs is in poor health and considering retirement."

"That might keep you out of mischief," she said thoughtfully. "And it would be good experience for when you inherit and take your seat in the House of Lords."

"Exactly!" He couldn't keep the excitement from his voice. "I want to be involved with things that matter. I want to forge relationships with MPs that I can use later when I'm in the Lords. The world is changing, Ca.s.sie. This is an age of revolutions. If Britain is to avoid having one, we must change the system in ways that benefit the average citizen." He grinned. "One of the things that needs changing is the way n.o.blemen like my father control multiple seats in Parliament."

Ca.s.sie laughed. "So you'll become a reformer! I take back what I said about you keeping out of mischief if you go into politics. But I agree with your goals, and I can easily imagine you as an MP."

Perhaps. He wondered if either of them would survive to fulfill the goals they were discussing tonight. Feeling tense again, he stood. "Since it's still too early to leave, I propose we spend the time in a way guaranteed to relax us." He held out his hand.

Her eyes sparked. "An excellent plan."

Ca.s.sie rose lithely and flowed into his embrace. His kiss was fierce, hungry, hers equally so as the tension simmering inside them exploded into annihilating pa.s.sion. He needed to worship her, possess her, bind her to him through eternity.

Pa.s.sion burned even brighter when it might be their last time.

The night sky mixed clouds and moonlight with a hint of possible rain in the air. Though Grey and Ca.s.sie had aimed at being early at the rendezvous below Castle Durand, two men were already waiting. The recruits wore dark clothing and had covered their faces, as Grey and Ca.s.sie did. Safely anonymous. They moved out from the shadows when Grey and Ca.s.sie dismounted.

"Liberte," a burly man said in a husky voice.

Grey responded, "egalite."

"Fraternite." Having completed the code, the burly man offered a hand. Grey shook it, giving silent thanks for Pierre's help in recruiting their grenadiers. A half dozen had agreed to partic.i.p.ate, and Pierre attested that they were trustworthy and experienced country men. If trouble overflowed the castle, the men should be able to get away safely.

The second grenadier, slighter and quicker in his movements, said, "Just after we arrived here, a fancy coach drove up the road and into the castle."

"Durand?" Grey said, heart quickening.

"Mebbe. The guard opened the gates right quick."

Grey wanted Durand to be there so they could have a confrontation and he could break the devil into small pieces. But would having the master of the castle present make the guards more alert? Or would they be distracted by Durand's arrival?

Impossible to know. Either way, there was no help for it. The mission had begun and they must carry on.

The other recruits arrived in quick succession. When everyone was present, Ca.s.sie gathered them around and explained the use of the grenades.

"You'll each have several grenades with different-length fuses," she said in a low voice that disguised her gender. "If a fuse burns too quickly, throw the grenade or pull out the fuse! Our mission is to save lives, not blow up our friends."

"How do we light the fuses?" a grenadier with a youthful voice asked.

"With these." Grey produced three very small closed lanterns. Using a tinderbox, he lit one, then the others. With the doors slid shut, almost no light escaped.

"One for each three of you, the last for us. Remember how far light and sound carry at night, and conceal both as much as possible. We'll be at the back wall and plan to escape through the postern gate, so you need to be bombing the front part of the castle. A grenade for the main gate and then over the walls on both sides. Any questions?"

There were none. One fellow said, "I've wanted to bomb Durand for years."

"I'd like to kill 'im myself," the burly man said wistfully.

The b.a.s.t.a.r.d really was unpopular. Grey said warningly, "We aren't even sure Durand is here. Remember that our main mission is to free Pere Laurent and the Boyers, and do it without any casualties."

"A night of good fun and grenades," one of the volunteers said cheerfully. "Takes me back to me army days. Are we ready?"

They were ready. Only Grey and Ca.s.sie had horses. They led their mounts through the woods toward the castle. The ground was soft enough from the previous night's rain that there wasn't much sound. When they were just below the castle, Grey said softly, "Give us time to get around the back of the castle. Bonne chance, mes amis, and my thanks." He offered his hand to the nearest grenadier.

Shaking hands, the fellow said, "'Tis my pleasure!"

There were handshakes all around. Then Grey and Ca.s.sie circled around the castle in the woods. They tethered their mounts in the shadows, but not too far from the castle, in case they were needed.

Then they waited. Grey's pack was much lighter now that most grenades had been distributed. He planned to put the small dark lantern in a pocket when he climbed, and hoped to G.o.d the flame didn't go out. He was fast with a tinderbox, but any time lost could be the difference between success and disaster.

The wait seemed interminable. On their scouting trip, they'd chosen a particularly rough patch of wall that was halfway between the postern and the left corner guard tower. It should be a safe place to climb while the guards were distracted by grenades. They'd come down close to the dungeon windows.

KABOOOM!!! The first explosion shattered the night air. Mere moments later, another. Then another. The grenadiers were doing a good job on their timing.

Ca.s.sie was right. As soon as the grenade exploded, Grey's nerves steadied down to cool, focused necessity. He lit a grenade with a short fuse and tossed it to the foot of the postern. Then he and Ca.s.sie bolted toward their chosen area of wall.

More explosions and shouts rose from the front of the castle precinct. Flames flared, probably a wooden shed that had been struck by a grenade. More shouting.

The postern door exploded, shaking the ground and rattling loose stones from the castle wall. Not waiting to see if any guards were drawn to the postern, Grey and Ca.s.sie started climbing. The wall was weathered enough to supply hand- and toeholds, but feeling their way in the darkness seemed horribly slow.

Light and agile, Ca.s.sie reached the top before Grey. He was nearing the top when a hold crumbled under his foot. The pack he was carrying affected his balance and he almost fell. He flung a hand upward and caught hold of the edge of an embrasure and managed to save himself from tumbling to the ground.

Heart pounding, he pulled himself the rest of the way and crouched in the embrasure as he gasped for breath. Ca.s.sie knelt beside him and he took her hand as they studied the chaos they'd caused.

Though the castle blocked some of their view, they could hear a leather-lunged sergeant bellowing to gather his troops by the shattered front gate. Flames illuminated running men, and there seemed to be efforts to contain the fire. Not very successful ones, because the light from the fires was growing.

"Perfect," Ca.s.sie breathed. "Time for us to go in."

Grey pulled a long coiled rope from his pack. One end was looped. He tossed the loop over the crenellation and let the other end drop to the ground.

As he lowered himself swiftly, he saw that his grenade had smashed the postern wide enough to allow people to pa.s.s through the hole. Mercifully, the blast had drawn no attention because the guards were gathering in front of the castle, where the main attack was taking place.

As soon as he touched down, Ca.s.sie swung onto the rope and walked down the wall. He was male enough to notice that she might be dressed as a man, but she wasn't shaped like one. As soon as she was beside him, he spared an instant for a kiss before they ran around the back of the castle to the quiet yard between dungeons and stables.

No one was in sight. Enough light came from the burning shed in the main yard to show four horizontal slit windows for the dungeon cells. Grey dropped down by the nearest slit, which he guessed was for his old cell. "Pere Laurent?" he called, keeping his voice low. "Madame Boyer?"

"Grey, can that be you?" the priest replied in a startled voice.

"It is, and we're here to get you out." As he spoke, Grey tested the bars. They were set too solidly to be worked loose. "You're there with Romain and Andre?"

"We're here," Romain said softly. "Viole and Yvette are in the next cell."

Ca.s.sie had been investigating the other slit windows. To Grey, she said, "We'll never loosen these bars in time. We need to blow up this window, which is farthest from the prisoners."

Knowing she was right, he said to the men, "Protect yourselves. We're going to use a grenade to enter the farthest cell."

"A grenade?" It was Viole's voice from the next window. "So that is what we've been hearing! Come, Yvette, we will burrow into a corner like foxes."

Another round of explosions was coming from the forecourt as Grey lit a reduced-powder, short-fused grenade Ca.s.sie had built for this purpose. Luckily, the flame in the lantern hadn't gone out during their exertions.

As soon as the fuse was burning, he set the grenade by the fourth window, which led to an empty cell. Then he and Ca.s.sie withdrew behind a nearby stone b.u.t.tress.

The grenade went off between the explosions of two others in the main yard. Though theirs was modest compared to the others, there was still an ear-numbing blast and debris rattled all over the yard.

"I should have used less gunpowder!" Ca.s.sie said with mad humor as they raced to the blown-out window. There was now a pile of rubble and a gap wide enough to admit Ca.s.sie, though without much room to spare.

Grey had another rope. He wrapped it around his waist several times, then dropped the other end through the hole. Ca.s.sie crawled backward through the shattered window. When she was inside with one hand on the rope, he handed her the lantern. "I'll work on widening the hole."

"Right." She disappeared down into the dark, dank cell.

Grey pulled the short crowbar from his pack and went to work prying loosened stones from around the window opening. So far, everything was going according to plan.

It couldn't last.

Chapter 46.

Ca.s.sie landed on loose rubble below the blown-out window, twisted her ankle, and almost fell. Grey's strength on the rope kept her upright.

She tested her ankle, decided there was no real damage, and opened the lantern door to release some light into the Stygian darkness. She crossed the cell to the door and was glad to find it unlocked.

Breathing thanks that she wouldn't have to pick the lock, she stepped into the corridor. Light came from the slit under the door to the guard's office. She raced down and tried the door. Locked, no sound audible from the other side. Praying that the guard had gone outside to deal with the attackers, she pulled out her lock picks.

The lock was old and simple, and it took her less than a minute to open it. Nerves taut, she opened the door cautiously in case there was a guard waiting to shoot her. The room was empty. And blessed be, the key ring hung on the wall! She grabbed the keys, along with the larger lamp that had been left burning on a hook.

It took three attempts to find the right key to the men's cell, but finally it swung open. "Madame Fox?" Romain said, startled. Beside him was his wide-eyed young son and Pere Laurent, looking less frail than the last time she'd rescued him from this h.e.l.lhole. Both the men needed a shave, but on the whole, they looked to be in good shape.

"None other," Ca.s.sie said, realizing that her dark scarf had fallen down around her neck to reveal her features. "We'll leave from the cell at the end where the window has been enlarged and there's a rope. Andre, you're the lightest. Your father can help you up and out. Then you and Sommers can pull out Pere Laurent."

Romain looked stubborn. "I won't leave without my wife and daughter!"

"By the time Andre and Pere Laurent are out, your womenfolk will be free, too. Now move!"

She handed Romain the larger lantern, then went to work on the door to the women's cell. Again, it took excruciatingly long moments to find the right key. As soon as the door opened, Viole and Yvette tumbled out. Viole hugged Ca.s.sie. "Mon ange!"

"I'm no angel!" Ca.s.sie briefly hugged back, relieved that her friends seemed to have survived captivity well. "Come along now. The sooner we leave, the better."

They moved to the escape cell and found that Pere Laurent was being bodily lifted by Romain and dragged from above by Grey. It had to be painful and difficult, but the priest doggedly contributed what strength he had and didn't complain.

As Pere Laurent disappeared above ground, Romain grabbed his wife and daughter in a fierce embrace. "Yvette, you first," he said huskily. "I'll help you up. Then take the rope and let Sommers and Andre pull you through."

"Oui, Papa." The girl picked her way through the rubble, then reached up as high on the rope as she could. Romain boosted her so that her hands were almost to the opening. A moment of scrambling, and she was through.

"Viole, you next," Ca.s.sie ordered.

She was heavier than her daughter so Ca.s.sie helped with the lifting. Viole's pleasantly rounded hips barely made it through the expanded gap. "You now, milady fox," Romain said. "It will take everyone's strength to get me up."

Knowing he was right, she let him lift her. The relief on getting outside and not seeing armed guards pounding down at them was enormous. She squeezed Grey's arm with heartfelt relief. "Do you think Romain can make it through that s.p.a.ce?"

"It will be tight, but he'll fit." Grey unwound the rope from his waist and held it out to the others. "Everyone who feels strong enough can help."

Ca.s.sie and all the Boyers grabbed on to the rope. Pere Laurent said ruefully, "All I'm fit for is praying."

"Pray away, Father!" Ca.s.sie felt Romain's weight on the rope. He had to be lifted from the bottom of the cell, and his broad frame and farmer's muscles made him heavy.

Romain's head appeared, then his shoulders. A very tight fit indeed, but as he worked his way through the ruined window, Ca.s.sie gave a sigh of relief. Almost here ...

Relief was premature. Romain had just crawled onto solid ground when a booming voice echoed off the walls. "Wyndham! I knew you'd come!"

Ca.s.sie looked up to see Claude Durand swaggering toward them, his dark cloak flaring against the torches of the half-dozen armed guards he led.

Ca.s.sie and Grey had run out of time.

Grey hissed to Ca.s.sie, "Get everyone else out the postern while I distract him!"

She made an anguished sound but didn't argue. "You be careful, d.a.m.n you!"

"I'd much rather be a live coward than a dead hero," he a.s.sured her. But as Grey turned to Durand, he realized that he might not have a choice. Fate had turned full circle and brought him back to this place and this enemy.

Grey guessed that the darkness behind him prevented Durand and his men from seeing the escapees. If he could keep their attention focused on him, they might not notice Ca.s.sie shepherding her charges to safety.

Time to provide that distraction. He pulled down his scarf, revealing his face. As retreating footsteps sounded behind him, he strolled toward Durand with the arrogant confidence of an aristocrat, guessing that would focus the man's attention.

"Of course I'm here, Durand," he drawled. "Very bad of you to imprison innocents to lure me back to France. You could have killed me anytime during the ten years I was here. Better that than play these childish cat-and-mouse games."

"That's a mistake I'm going to rectify!" Durand raised a pistol and c.o.c.ked it, his hands trembling from rage.

What were the chances that the pistol would misfire or Durand would miss his shot? Didn't really matter since Durand was backed up by half a dozen soldiers carrying rifles, and they were professionals, not crazed amateurs.

"Why do you hate me so much?" he asked in a conversational tone. "I could have understood if you'd shot me at the beginning. A crime of pa.s.sion, very traditional. But why throw a foolish boy into a dungeon for ten years?"

"I wanted you to suffer!" Durand looked more than a little mad, and he was gripping his pistol as if savoring the moment, not wanting to shoot too soon. "Spoiled, selfish aristocrats like you brought France to ruin. I would have sent you to the guillotine, but that would have made death too easy, and everything in your life had been easy. You deserved to die a difficult death."

"You're right, I was spoiled and selfish, but at least part of that was simply being young, not my most n.o.ble blood." Grey halted twenty paces from the other man. He was trying to think of a really good insult so he could go down like a fearless, insouciant Englishman. Strange that events had brought him back here to die. But he'd had the best weeks of his life since Ca.s.sie rescued him.