Page 105 of A Tenuous Betrothal
She turned grateful eyes to him.
“We have only hints of information. We do not think they would have killed Marc. We suspect he is much more valuable to them alive—for now.”
“That’s good news.” Rhi’s hands had started to shake as she clutched them together.
“It is excellent news, but if Napoleon escapes, Marc becomes a very dangerous bargaining chip in exchange for our shoreline,” Frederick said.
Rhi sucked in a breath. “What has been done?”
“All our teams are out. Some are following the smallest leads. But we have just received word that Marc’s cravat was seen tied around a tree limb.”
“Oh, that is excellent.” Rhi was filled with energy. “Do we go in pursuit?”
“Men have already been sent. It is now a race to track their steps.”
“And us? You and I?”
Frederick turned kind eyes to her. “I think we have seen the folly of risking our own capture.”
Emotion caught in her throat. She knew what he was saying. She knew he was correct. Marc should have stayed closer to home, especially once he realized he was a target.
“But he knew the risks,” she said. “He chose to go. He must have thought it was worth it.” Worth so much. So very much, considering all he’d given up to go.
Frederick studied her for a moment, then bowed. “I shall return with more news as soon as I have it.”
Karl and Rhi were left to themselves.
“I don’t know if I feel much like reading.” Rhi sighed.
“Understandably so. Perhaps I can assist.”
“In what way?” She felt her shoulders slump.
Karl rested a hand on her arm. “The life of a royal will always have these moments.”
“Moments in which someone’s life is at risk?”
His nod was sincere but not overly grave. “Not always a member of the family, but sometimes a citizen or a neighboring estate. We have been at war with Napoleon in one way or another for over a decade. Even when we were neutral, we were at war. There is always something dreadful to concern oneself over.”
She nodded. “How do you manage it?”
“With this.” He held out a hand and grinned. “Distraction.”
“Ah yes. Shall we choose a good book, then?” She would at least attempt to do as he suggested.
“What section do you prefer?”
“I suppose I could read a good gothic romance right now.” She laughed. “Or anything historic. Walter Scott is a favorite as well. But what I would also love is to read something really old. I suspect you have things in this library no one else has easy access to.”
“Let’s see what we can find,” he said.
She followed him along the south wall but could not feel settled. Surely, there was more she could do. What would Marc do?
Marc hovered on the edge of consciousness, aware enough to know that he was on the back of a horse, arms and head dangling down on one side. They were moving slowly. That was good. If he got into a carriage, much hope of rescue might be lost. With any luck, anyone in pursuit would find his cravat. And his boot. And then the bits and pieces of clothing he’d been able to shed until they’d drugged him.
Blast, he hated laudanum. He tried to make an escape plan, but his thoughts blurred together. His mind wouldn’t focus on one thing. The more he tried to muddle through possible solutions, the more he knew that his only hope was for the intervention of someone else. And that was an uncomfortable position for him to be in. Whoever came to rescue him would be in grave danger. In attempting to protect others, he’d placed more than just himself at considerable risk.
The men who captured him spoke French. This was indeed the organization that hoped to free Napoleon, or at least still acted in his stead. What an evil attempt to subdue the freedom of others. Marc could not abide it. And he knew that keeping Napoleon at bay was trapping evil, keeping it from creating further danger on the earth.
