Moonlight Surrender (Moonlight Book 3) (36 page)

Duncan shook his head. “To Doctor Beaulieu.”

Lafayette shrugged helplessly. “If I make an exception here,” he began with regret, “I must make exceptions everywhere.”

He would be inundated with pleas within a matter of
weeks, each one undoubtedly more heart wrenching than the last.

But Beth refused to be put off. “What does your heart
tell you?”

A bittersweet smile barely grazed his lips. “I have no
heart, Mademoiselle. It was cut out years ago while I
watched my beloved country being plunged into poverty
and despair by a feeble-minded monarch who indulged a coldblooded queen.”

Beth couldn’t accept his reasoning. “Is that an excuse to execute so many? To execute my father, who came here only to help, just as you came to America?”

The agony of his decision was there in his eyes for her to see. And take heart from. She would not give up her
assault as long as there was a shred of a chance she could
persuade him to change his position.

Lafayette turned from her, wanting to close out the
sound of her voice, the sound of her argument. It echoed
in his mind nonetheless. “Then he should have joined the right side.”

Duncan had heard those same arguments before, on the lips of other men.

“Victories decide which side is right. Later, those labels become history.” Duncan measured the man before them and found him to be as Beth had said. A good man. A man trapped in an unspeakable position. “Whether a man is a hero or an outlaw depends on the outcome of certain circumstances.”

Beth saw that Lafayette was weakening and quickly attempted to widen the opening. “You said all revolutions were the same.”

“They are,” Lafayette agreed, without feeling.

Beth shook her head, her hair whipping about her face. “During the American Revolution, soldiers fought man to man. There was no talk of public executions of innocent children and women, no atonement sought for grievances that were decades old. No thought of penance for the sins of the fathers.”

She laid a hand imploringly on his arm. “Don’t you see? This revolution is not like the other was. There the people wanted their freedom. Here they want vengeance.”

She wasn’t reaching him, she realized. Lafayette’s expression was stony and unapproachable. He had made his decision and wouldn’t allow anything to convince him to change it.

Beth dropped her hand from his arm.

Her voice was weary and full of pity for him when she spoke again.

“My father always spoke highly of you. He said if he did nothing else worthwhile, he had saved your life, and for that, history would thank him.” She felt tears gath
ering in her eyes and her voice shook with feeling. “Too
bad it turned out to be at his own expense.”

She turned her back on him and began to walk away. The lieutenant smirked as he drew aside the tent flap for
her so she might pass.

“Wait.”

She thought she would sink to her knees at the sound of the command. Instead, she managed to turn around once more. Thank God, she thought. Thank God.

“Yes, Commander?”

The lieutenant was eying him contemptuously, Lafay
ette thought. He would have to find a way to have the man transferred, and soon, though Maximillien had been with the guard a long time. If he didn’t, the man would either have his job, or his head. Neither could be allowed to happen.

“Maximillien, wait outside,” he ordered.

“Commander, I hardly think—“

The look on Lafayette’s face darkened. “I said, wait outside.”

The lieutenant turned as stiffly as if a bayonet had been pressed between his shoulder blades.

As soon as the man was gone, Lafayette began to write something hastily. He signed his name with a flourish, then dipped his signet ring into red wax. He pressed the wax to the folded letter.

He raised his eyes to Beth’s and saw her thanks there.
“Here, take this to the captain of the guards at the Bastille. He will recognize my seal.”

Beth pressed the letter to her breast, gratitude flooding through her veins.

“Your father is free,” Lafayette pronounced. “Tell him the debt is repaid.” A smile curved his mouth, one of the few he allowed himself these days. “And that he has a daughter who would have made a worthy soldier had she but been born a man.”

Duncan laughed, remembering the way Beth had han
dled a pistol when she’d saved his life. “You don’t know the half of it, Commander. You don’t even know the half of it.”

“I would have enjoyed finding out.” But that was for other men, Lafayette thought sadly. Men who did not find themselves thrust into the midst of arranging their country’s destiny.

For the moment, Beth tucked the letter inside her waistband. She would place it securely inside her saddlebags at the first opportunity. Beth took his hand into hers. There were no proper words she could offer. “I cannot begin to thank you.”

Lafayette extricated himself. “Then do not even waste the time, for it is precious. I am told that Robespierre wants the executions to begin at dawn.”

A chill ran over her heart. She remembered what
Marcus had said: that the National Guard was coming to
Paris. “You will be there to watch?”

He had no stomach for the guillotine. “No, there’s
need of my men at Orleans instead. Farewell, Mademoi
selle. And Godspeed to us both.”

“Godspeed,” she echoed.

Duncan took her arm and they hurried out.

Their horses were just as they had left them, tethered
before the tent. Though the guards looked upon them as a curiosity, obviously falling into the realm of their commander’s favor, the lieutenant stood back and made no effort to hide his dislike.

“I’m glad we’re leaving that one behind,” Jacob said in a whisper as they rode from the camp.

“You’re not the only one,” Duncan agreed.

They were within three miles of Paris when the inci
dent happened.

One moment they were on the road, the next, they
were beset on two sides by marauders. Though it was
reported that roving bands roamed the countryside, using the revolution as an excuse to plunder and steal, it all happened so quickly, Beth and the men were completely unprepared.

It was suddenly raining men from the very trees and
the bushes. There were four, perhaps five. Duncan could
not count them, they moved so swiftly.

“Ambush, Beth. Run!” He leaned to slap the rump of her horse, but it was too late.

There were hands grabbing at her reins and more grabbing for her legs. Someone pulled her from her horse and Beth hit the ground with a thud that stunned her almost senseless.

Something warm seemed to be oozing just over her eye. The next moment Beth screamed as she felt hot,
rancid breath on her face and a man’s filthy hands grop
ing hungrily over her body.

“Hey!” the man crowed. In a lumbering movement, he straddled her body in glee. “This one’s soft. It’s a female!”

He laughed, and the very sound drove bits of glass through her body.

“I’ll be well rewarded for my trouble.” A mouth with
rotting teeth grinned macabrely over her. “Don’t worry, your death’ll be quick, but first my pleasure.”

He began to rip her clothing as another man held her hands above her head. Beth bucked and cursed, but it was to no avail. She couldn’t move him off her.

Suddenly, she heard Duncan’s outraged cry. It sounded
only half human. The next moment, the man fell over to
the side, his blood spurting from the wound in his back. Duncan had buried his sword into the would-be rapist up
to the hilt.

Duncan pulled his sword out again and turned on the other man above Beth. The latter scrambled back, yelling in fear. But Jacob caught him with the point of his sword and ran him through.

A third man flew at them, a broken sword raised. Beth pulled her pistol and fired at him. He fell where he had run. Duncan turned to deflect a sword from yet another marauder and quickly did away with him. Two more fled, knowing when all was lost.

It was over as quickly as it had begun. Four lay dead upon the ground beside the very people they wished to rob and kill.

Duncan scanned the area swiftly to make certain that there were no others left who would attack them. But there were none.

Satisfied, he turned to Beth just in time to catch her as she sagged.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

Of course she wasn’t all right, he thought, impotent anger and helplessness knitting together. She’d almost been senselessly violated. What woman would be all right under those circumstances?

Beth ran a shaky hand over her body. She pulled closed her rented shirt and made an attempt to tuck it back into her britches. She looked up at Duncan. If it hadn’t been for him ...

She couldn’t even bear to think on it. “Yes. Thanks to you,” she said softly.

For a moment, all he wanted to do was just hold her against him. To feel her warm and safe. “God, Beth, when I saw his hands on you—“

She could feel his heart pounding wildly against his ribs. She blinked the moisture from her eyes.

“But you saved me,” she whispered. “And that is all that matters.”

Leaving them alone, Jacob silently examined each man on the ground to assure himself that they were truly dead. He held a dagger ready in his hands, just in case. There wasn’t a breath of life left within the lot of them.

Duncan looked down and saw a fresh red stain on his
chest where Beth’s head had been only a moment ago. Cupping her chin in his hand, he examined her face closely. It was just as he’d feared.

“That’s a nasty gash you have on your head.” Duncan felt around it gingerly. The area would swell and bruise soon, he thought. Right now, he wanted to stop the bleeding.

Beth pulled away. “We’ve no time to waste now. We have to ride into Paris. Lafayette said the executions begin tomorrow at dawn. There isn’t much time left, if that is true. We have to free my father before then.”

But as she took a step away from Duncan, she tottered and nearly sank to her knees.

Duncan grabbed her arm to steady her. “For God sakes, Beth, you are only human.” Holding her firmly by the arm, he looked at Jacob. “Jacob, fetch me your water pouch.”

Jacob was quick to obey.

Carefully, Duncan poured a little water upon his handkerchief and used it to clean her wound.

Beth shifted where she stood. “There’s no time to fuss,” she implored.

“Correction, there’s no time to watch you bleed to death. God, you make an awful patient.” He tied the handkerchief about her head as best he could, hoping that the bleeding would cease soon.

“I’m fine, fine.” She pushed away his hand and rose. This time, she gained her legs more steadily. “I don’t need to be treated like a child.”

His eyes narrowed. Though she didn’t wish it, he took her arm again, lest she fall. He’d rather have her pride hurt than her body.

“If that were the case, you’d have been over my knee a long time ago.”

It would have been easy to take offense and rail at him, but she knew that she owed Duncan a debt she could not hope to repay.

“I’m sorry.”

He smiled at her and touched her cheek with the back of his hand. “Apology accepted.”

Beth looked around. Panic began to mount within her.
“Where’s my horse?”

They all turned to look now, but there were only the two horses. Beth’s was gone.

“Duncan.” She clutched at his arm. “That man, he took my horse.”

It was a loss, he admitted, but not a fatal one. They still had two left, thank the gods. He gave her an encouraging look.

“We’ll ride double.” And perhaps they could find someone to sell them a third. They would have need of the horse once Beth’s father was freed.

He didn’t understand, she thought, almost beside herself. It was difficult keeping the hysteria out of her voice.

“The letter, Duncan.” He looked at her as the reason for her distress became apparent. “Lafayette’s letter was in the saddlebag, as was half the gold we brought to ransom my father!”

Chapter Thirty-seven

It seemed to Beth that no sooner had she realized that her horse had been stolen, and with it, Lafayette’s precious letter, than more trouble was suddenly looming on the horizon.

Jacob tugged urgently on Duncan’s arm.

“Duncan, look. To the east.” Agitated by the battle that had just passed, Jacob drew his sword out quickly, ready to defend Beth to the death, if need be. “More men coming.”

One hand protectively thrown out before Beth, Dun
can swung around to look up. Approaching them swiftly
were four men on horseback.

“Damn this countryside, it’s crawling with cutthroats and murderers, and I can’t understand a word any of them says.” He looked quickly over his shoulder to Jacob. “Quick, take her to the horses. You stand a chance of outriding them.”

But Jacob stood fast for a moment, puzzled. “With two on a horse?”

Duncan shook his head. “No, you take Beth. I’ll stand here and hold them off as long as I can. Hurry, there’s not much time before—“

Jacob had his hand on Beth’s arm, about to obey Duncan’s order. But Beth pulled free, her eyes on Duncan.

“The devil you will,” Beth shouted at him. “We all go, or we all stay. I am not leaving you behind.”

Biting off an oath, Duncan looked up again to see how far away the riders were now.

“Woman, you are—“ His voice abruptly trailed off as he tried to make out the face of the leader. “Jacob.” He beckoned to the other man. “Look at those men again. The tall one in front, the one with the long, flowing brown hair.” He looked at Jacob to see if there was any recognition. “Christian?”

Jacob squinted. He leaned forward, like a bird regard
ing his reflection on a pond. A grin spread over his lips. “Aye.”

Beth fisted her hands at her waist. Had they gone mad? “What does it matter what religion they are?”