“Where are we?”
“We should reach Le Havretomorrow.”
She knew the port. It was the one shehad arrived in some three years ago. Calais may be closer toEngland, but it was guarded more heavily.
“Then home.”
His smile was gentle but it didn’treach his eyes. “Then home.”
Elizabeth tried to swat away whateverit was that was shaking her shoulder. Didn’t they know she wantedto sleep? Her hand connected with a face. Beneath her fingers, abeard had begun to fill in. Beard? She cracked her eyes to see whowas bothering her and focused on the serious green eyes of JeanPierre. He had the nicest eyes. They reminded her of warm summerpastures.
“We need to go.”
“Where?” she asked in areturn whisper.
“We are at LeHavre.”
“Le Havre?” It took a fewmoments for her mind to clear. “Oh.”
She struggled to sit up and JeanPierre placed an arm behind her back. The blanket fell away and sheyanked it up to her chin. “I need my clothing,” shehissed.
Jean Pierre produced her dress andheld it up so she could slip her arms in, then pulled it down overher bodice before he efficiently fastened up the back. Elizabethswung her legs over the side of the bed and stood. Her kneesbuckled, and blackness invaded with bright spots twinkling in herperipheral vision. Jean Pierre steadied her with strong hands atboth elbows and helped her sit back on the bed.
“Goodness.”
“You need to move slower.You haven’t moved from that bed since you were shot, and that wasalmost four days ago.”
Those days were a fog to her. Therewere flitting images of Jean Pierre bathing her face, holding aglass of cold water to her lips, and spooning hot broth into hermouth. What she did not recall was a doctor, yet her side seemed tobe on the mend, though it burned and ached at the moment from hersudden movement. Elizabeth took deep breaths, and soon any threatof darkness receded. Jean Pierre settled on the floor and rolledher stockings over each foot and up her calves. Thank goodness hedidn’t throw up her skirts; it was bad enough his hands wereskimming up her legs. The man was far too familiar with herbody.
He slipped the boots on and tied eachbefore he looked up. “Do you think you can walk?”
Elizabeth wasn’t so sure, but shenodded her head. He stood and helped her slip the cloak on, thendirected her towards the steps. She lifted one foot and had to grabthe low wall for balance before she tumbled. She hated thisweakness.
Jean Pierre cursed and before shecould contemplate his actions, he scooped her up in his arms andwas striding across the deck. “Thank you, Maurice. I am indebted toyou.”
“Ah.” The man waved a handin dismissal. “I was sick of Paris. I think I will go south. I amtoo old for this cold weather.”
Jean Pierre laughed and continued downthe plank.
Gravel crunched beneath his boots, andElizabeth lifted her head to look around. Maurice was alreadysailing away, but there wasn’t another boat in sight. Hadn’t JeanPierre said there would be one here? The gentle lapping of wateragainst the shore combined with Jean Pierre’s even steps were theonly sounds. A chill hung in the air. Elizabeth turned her faceinto his shoulder and took a deep breath. Even though they hadbegun their escape four days ago, and most of their time had beenspent on the boat, a comforting scent of soap emanated from him.She was fairly certain she didn’t smell nearly as nice, since shehad not had the opportunity to bathe.
“There it is.”
Elizabeth lifted her head long enoughto look towards the water. She could barely make out a boat. Arowboat manned by two sailors just reached the beach as theyapproached. Jean Pierre nodded in greeting and placed Elizabeth ona middle seat. The men pushed the boat into the water until itfloated and then hopped in. Jean Pierre settled beside Elizabethand placed an arm around her waist as the two sailors picked up theoars and began rowing back to the ship. Elizabeth’s side ached andall she wanted to do was sleep once again. A newborn kitten hadmore energy than she did at the moment.
They reached the yacht and a ropeladder was flung over the side. Elizabeth eyed it withdetermination. She could do this. She placed one hand over theother; her feet followed. Jean Pierre came up from behind and hepushed her skirts up, revealing her calves. Elizabeth would havebeen mortified if it wasn’t necessary so that she could climbwithout tripping over her dress. A sailor helped her over the side,and Jean Pierre quickly followed.
“We need to hurry,men.”
The two who rowed them from shorescrambled up the rope as two other sailors hoisted the smallrowboat up and out of the water.
“She’s getting closer,Captain,” a man called from the upper deck.
“Who?” Jean Pierredemanded.
“A French ship. We’veevaded three of them so far.”
“What do you want me todo?”
“Get below and stayhidden.”
“This way.” A young manstood not far away and pointed towards a set of steps. Elizabethtuned in his direction, but Jean Pierre scooped her in his armsonce again and hurried towards the opening. She could certainlywalk now, but maybe Jean Pierre didn’t think she was moving fastenough.
They followed the young man into thecabin but instead of stopping there, he reached beneath the shelfof a bookcase built into the wall and pulled a lever. The bookcaseswung out. He lifted a lantern and led them down a few more stepsinto a dark, enclosed room.
“Captain had this builtinto the hull of the ship for smuggling. We will come get you whenit is safe.”
Elizabeth glanced about the smallspace, barely the size of a bed. In fact, with the exception of asmall area, a mattress and blankets covered the floor. Jean Pierreset her on her feet and Elizabeth bent to enter. The room was noteven high enough to stand in. No wonder they had fitted it with abed.
“I’ll wait until the two ofyou get settled. You won’t be able to see a thing after I amgone.”
Elizabeth moved over to make room forJean Pierre.
The young man ducked back into thecabin. “You might as well sleep. There isn’t anything else to do inthe dark.”
With that,
