Part 27 (1/2)
They hadn't even climbed out of bed, and already he was impressed by the advantages of working with an experienced agent. ”Durand hates me and wants me dead, or he wouldn't have gone to such lengths to lure me within his reach. If at all possible, he'll want to be at Castle Durand, but he can't be sure when or even if I'm coming, and surely he has responsibilities in Paris. So my guess is that he's hired a number of men to guard the castle, and they'll have orders to capture rather than kill me if possible. Does that make sense to you?”
”Yes, but he might be in residence since he can deduce when you're most likely to show up.” She frowned. ”He might be able to convince his superiors that he's investigating a ring of traitors near Castle Durand and must be based there so he can find them all.”
Grey hoped so. He wanted the b.a.s.t.a.r.d to be at Castle Durand so Grey could kill him with his bare hands. Which wasn't likely since all the advantages were on Durand's side, but a man could dream. Voicing his worst fear, he said, ”Do you think that Durand has already killed Pere Laurent and the Boyers?”
”It's certainly possible,” Ca.s.sie said, her voice grave. ”But I think it unlikely. France is a nation of laws, and since the revolution, many of those laws are designed to protect the weak from the strong.”
When Grey snorted, Ca.s.sie said, ”Don't laugh. The Code Napoleon is the only thing I give the emperor credit for. Before the revolution, the country was an impossible patchwork of feudal and church laws, with mandated privileges for the n.o.bility and the clergy. The Code Napoleon specifically forbids privileges based on birth.”
”Durand's behavior has been very close to the edge, hasn't it? He may not have a t.i.tle, but many of his actions are not unlike those of his aristocratic ancestors.”
”Exactly. He's been able to get away with a private dungeon within the walls of his castle, particularly since he was holding a priest and an Englishman. But murdering a respected local property owner and his family would get him into serious trouble.” Ca.s.sie's brow furrowed as she thought. ”Most likely he's had Pere Laurent charged with treason and is investigating the Boyers as possible traitors. That allows him to hold them for some time while he investigates. He may release them if he has you.”
”Dear G.o.d, I hope so.” Grey's words were a real prayer. ”If you're right, so far he hasn't really done anything to get himself into serious trouble with his superiors. As you say, the revolution always hated priests and the power of the church, and no one would question killing an English spy. So the Boyers may be safe.”
Ca.s.sie caught his gaze and said with icy precision, ”You will not, under any circ.u.mstances, offer yourself to Durand in exchange for their freedom. I will not allow you to do that.”
Grey's eyes narrowed in response. ”Do you think you could stop me?”
”It would be an interesting battle, wouldn't it?” she said softly. ”Let's hope it doesn't come to that.”
Grey agreed. The last thing he wanted was to be at odds with Ca.s.sie. Changing the subject, he said, ”Your marching into Castle Durand when everyone was ill was a miraculous fluke. We won't be so lucky again. You probably had a better look at the castle walls than I did. Will I be able to scale them with the right equipment?”
”We both can, and will. We'll need to take dark garments to help conceal us if we go over the walls.” Ca.s.sie gazed at the ceiling as she thought. ”Is it a fair a.s.sumption that prisoners would be put in the dungeons where you and Pere Laurent were held?”
”I think so. They're impossible to escape without outside help.”
”As I recall, the cells had slit windows high up on the wall. Too high and narrow for anyone to escape that way, but still, windows. Do you know where they opened?”
”On a quiet back courtyard between the castle and the stables, I think. There was very little noise or traffic. The windows are just above ground level. Occasionally castle maids would come by and chat a bit, so I don't think the courtyard was used much.”
She laughed. ”You were able to carry on flirtations even in durance vile?”
He thought of the curious girls who would sometimes stop by and exchange a few words. ”I was so hungry for people that I'd have welcomed any voice. On some occasions, if I was really fortunate, a maid might toss down an apple. Heaven.”
Her amus.e.m.e.nt vanished. ”It's amazing that you came through such an ordeal as well as you did.”
”If not for Pere Laurent, I would have been fit only for Bedlam,” he said, equally sober. ”I can't bear to think of him dying back in Durand's dungeon.”
”We'll do our best to see that doesn't happen.” She bit her lip in a way he found very distracting. His body must be recovering from their pa.s.sionate encounter.
Her mind still on business, she said, ”We must do some careful scouting around the castle. Local help will be invaluable if we can find it.”
”That might be difficult to find.”
”We can start at the Boyer farm. If there's anyone there, they might have information about the Boyers and Castle Durand.”
”More likely Durand gave the farm to some crony,” Grey said pessimistically. ”If we ask for help, we'll be arrested as spies.”
”Remember what I said about France being a nation of laws,” she said. ”If Durand confiscated the property and the Boyers have yet to be charged with any crime, someone in the community would go to a magistrate and complain.”
”So he would probably not take over the property himself. Might the farm be sitting vacant?”
Ca.s.sie shook her head. ”A farm can't be neglected, especially not in springtime. There is a married daughter. My best guess is that she has returned to the farm with her husband to take care of the animals and the planting. She's probably praying that her parents will be released. If they aren't, or they're executed, presumably she is the heir. If we can find her, she'll be a source of information and aid.”
”I hope you're right. We're making a lot of a.s.sumptions.”
She smiled wryly. ”Call them deductions. It sounds better.”
He began stroking her under the blanket. Discussions in bed had much to commend them. He stroked her nipple with his thumb and she caught her breath. ”We need an army,” he muttered. ”One with artillery.”
”I was thinking along those lines myself.” Ca.s.sie's hand moved to his thigh.
”What?” He pushed himself up on one elbow and stared down at her. ”I'm the one who is supposed to be mad here!”
”Whatever gave you a foolish notion like that?” She laughed with wicked amus.e.m.e.nt. ”We're both mad to attempt this, so let's not waste a moment of madness.” She looped her hands around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss.
In mere moments, sanity was forgotten.
Chapter 43.
Against the night sky, Castle Durand loomed stark and impregnable, looking much as it must have in the fifteenth century. Ca.s.sie and Grey, dressed in black and with faces mostly covered with dark scarves, had come to scout.
The journey to France had gone so smoothly that Ca.s.sie found herself superst.i.tiously expecting disaster to strike. Grey had made it across the channel in rough seas without getting ill, though he was a little green when they disembarked. Their guise as a drab, humorless couple had been very effective. They were never challenged, and few people wanted to talk to Monsieur and Madame Harel.
But the easy part of the journey was over. The previous night they'd stopped in a sizable town a dozen miles from St. Just du Sarthe, the village below Castle Durand. Grey bought st.u.r.dy riding horses while Ca.s.sie played the role of submissive wife.
After riding toward the village as the conventional Harels, they'd found an abandoned barn nearby and well off the road. Silently they'd settled the horses and changed into the dark clothing of thieves and burglars. It was a sign of Grey's tension that he hadn't made a single suggestive remark about Ca.s.sie's trousers.
From the barn, it was only half an hour's hike through the woods up to the castle. The night was raw and windy, with clouds scudding across a waning moon. She sensed that Grey was winding tighter and tighter, like a violin string. She couldn't even imagine what it felt like to return to the place where he'd endured ten years of imprisonment.
When the castle came into sight, they lingered in the shadowed woods to study it. Unlike during Ca.s.sie's first visit, the gates were closed and there was a guard in the small gatehouse. The crenellated walls must have been at least twenty feet tall. They surrounded the square castle grounds, with a cleared strip perhaps thirty feet wide at the base.
On top of each corner was a guard turret. Dim glows from braziers showed they were occupied. The guards were probably bored, but they had clear views of the walls, should anyone attempt to climb into the castle.
On the shadowed back wall opposite the main gates, they found a small postern gate. Ca.s.sie investigated, using a couple of thin metal picks on the lock. It seemed to be rusted shut. Opening the door would be neither easy nor quiet.
To her left, Grey was studying the stone wall itself, running his hands over the surface to check the condition. He found a toehold and began to climb the wall by touch. He was halfway up when Ca.s.sie gave a small, foxlike yip to catch his attention.
He halted. After a half-dozen heartbeats, he quietly dropped to the soft ground. Ca.s.sie touched his arm and gestured for them to withdraw to the woods on the other side of the cleared zone.
When they were safely back in the shadows, she asked quietly, ”Are you all right?”
”I wanted to keep climbing.” He stared at the ma.s.sive bulk of the wall. Voice thick with emotion, he said, ”I wanted to get inside and kill Durand with my bare hands and then blow the whole place to b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l.”
She locked a hand around his wrist, her grip hard. ”Understandable. But you must control yourself when the time comes to go in! If you run berserk, you risk everything. Everyone.”