Part 55 (1/2)

He caught her gaze, searched her eyes, then raised a hand to frame her face. Bent his head to brush her lips with his. ”Trust me,mignonne. Ariele will be safe.”

She did trust him-completely. And, deep in her heart, she felt that Ariele would indeed be safe. With him and her acting together, determined on that outcome, she couldn't imagine that the rescue wouldn't come to pa.s.s.

Yet while they waited and the hours rolled by, another worry surfaced. Here Sebastian was, an Englishman preparing to slip into the heart of France and steal a young French n.o.blewoman away from beneath her legal guardian's nose-all for her. What if he were caught?

Would his rank protect him?

Could anything protect him from Fabien, were he to fall into his hands?

The discussion on what guise they would adopt to travel through the countryside to Le Roc did nothing to quiet such nascent fears.

Phillipe had joined them for lunch at the table in the stateroom. The cabin boy served them; at a signal from Sebastian, he left and closed the door.

”I think it would be best if, once we leave the yacht, we have some overt reason for our journey. I suggest that you”-with his head, Sebastian indicated Phillipe-”should be the youthful scion of a n.o.ble house.”

Phillipe was listening intently. ”Which house?”

”I would suggest the de Villandrys. If any should ask, you are Hubert de Villandry. Your parents' estate lies in-”

”The Garonne.” Phillipe grinned. ”I have visited there.”

”Bon.Then you can be convincing should the need arise.” Glancing at Helena, Sebastian waved languidly. ”Not that I expect any difficulties. I'm merely making contingency plans.”

She held his gaze, then nodded. ”And who am I to be?”

”You're Hubert's sister, of course.” Sebastian tilted his head, studied her, then p.r.o.nounced, ”Adele. Yes, that will pa.s.s. You're Adele de Villandry, and the reason you're traveling with us is that, after traveling briefly in England over these past months, Phillipe and I pa.s.sed through London, where, having spent some months with relatives in the English capital, you joined us so we could escort you back to . . .” He trailed off, considering.

”To the convent at Montsurs.” Helena took up their fict.i.tious tale. ”I've decided to take the veil and was sent to London in a last effort to get me to change my mind.”

Sebastian grinned; reaching out, he squeezed her hand. ”Bon. That will do very nicely.”

”But who are you?” she asked.

”Me?” A devilish light danced in his eyes as he laid his hand over his heart and mock-bowed. ”I'm Sylvester Ffoliott, an English scholar, the scion of a n.o.ble but sadly impoverished family reduced to having to make my way in the world. I was hired to conduct Monsieur Hubert on his travels through England and see him back to the de Villandry estate in the Garonne. That is where we-Hubert and I-are heading after we deposit you with the good sisters at Montsurs.”

Both Helena and Phillipe fell silent, imagining, then Helena nodded. ”It is possible. It will serve.”

”Indeed. Furthermore, it will explain our hiring of a fast carriage to convey you to Montsurs and then the subsequent return of the carriage while we-Hubert and I-hire horses, the better to see the country as we travel south.”

Phillipe frowned. ”Why let the carriage go and switch to horses?”

”Because,” Sebastian replied, ”horses will be faster and more useful in fleeing.” He considered Phillipe. ”I presume you do ride.”

”Naturellement.”

”Good. Because I don't expect your uncle to let Ariele-and Helena-slip from his clutches without trying to s.n.a.t.c.h them back.”

None of them had expected Fabien to let them go gracefully, yet hearing the fact stated so bluntly established the likelihood more firmly in Helena's mind.