from the village,” Eloise said, in her strongest local accent. “I am not a lady.”
“Then why the servant girl, and what is this?” The man lifted her filigree necklace away from her neck on the point of his dagger and beckoned for one of the torches to be brought closer. “Gold, I think. How do you explain that?”
“Whore!” The man with the torch spat at Eloise’s feet.
“No!”
“She is not a whore,” Nicholas said, putting his arm around Eloise again. “She is a decent woman; from the village, as I am. Just as she says.”
The bandit looked at them again, still holding the necklace on his dagger, teasing it back and forth. Eloise tried not to move, aware of the blade so close, the man’s thick breath in her face. He snorted. “Maybe you are telling the truth. But then, maybe you stole this gold and you have no right to it, eh, my pretty one? And if you have no right to it, then you could give it to us and we could let you go, even with this evidence of crime hanging around your pretty neck. Too pretty for Monsieur Guillotine, I think, not that he is fussy.”
“I did not steal it, it was bought for me by my husband.” Eloise stared into the man’s face, suddenly made brave by the memory of the first time Daniel had shown her the necklace and how he had put it on for her.
“And where is this rich husband now?” the man pulled himself up to his full height and tossed his head back. “Keeping his appointment with the executioner?”
“Of course not,” Nicholas said. “The girl is her sister and I am her husband.”
“No!” Eloise turned her head to look at Nicholas and as she did, the point of the bandit’s dagger ran into the side of her throat. The man pulled it back roughly, twisting the point up to sever the delicate links of gold. He grabbed for the necklace and stuffed it in his pocket as he backed away. “Sorry, didn’t mean to hurt her, just a bit of fun,” he mumbled, as the group turned and ran into the darkness.
Nicholas put his hand up to Eloise’s neck and felt the slippery stickiness. Eloise leant heavily against him.
“Does it hurt?” Pascale asked, standing on tiptoe, trying to see the wound, straining her eyes against the night.
“No, it is not bad,” Eloise’s voice was soft. “But hold Marie-Claire for me.”
Pascale reached out, took the baby and tucked her into the crook of her arm. The clouds parted and a bit of light shone through. Nicholas peered round to see the wound and turned Eloise’s chin towards him. The wound gaped, but there was very little bleeding.
“Lie down for a moment, and rest.” Nicholas supported her weight and lowered Eloise to the ground.
“Daniel?”
Nicholas and Pascale looked around, but there was nobody there. Nicholas looked back at Eloise, who was very still. Her eyes were wide and there was a little smile on her face. He picked up her hand and it was limp.
“Eloise! Oh no, my Eloise!” Nicholas laid his head on her silent chest and wept. Pascale’s eyes were wide with horror, as she jiggled the new little orphan, who had begun to cry.
“Daniel? Oh, my love, you have caught up with us! But where are the horses? And who is this?” Eloise got easily to her feet and turned to look at Jotin, her brow furrowing. “I know you, I think? We have met before.”
“Yes, Eloise, you have met before,” Trynor said, stepping forward to stand beside her.
“Oh, hello Trynor,” said Eloise, as she leant over to kiss him on the cheek. “Nice to see you again.” Eloise stopped and grew very still. Then she moved over to the little group huddled on the ground and looked down at them. She turned to Trynor.
“But how did I die? It was not a bad cut?”
“Not deep, but it opened the vein in your neck. Air got in and stopped your heart.”
“And Daniel? What happened to you? And what will happen to Marie-Claire? Oh, my poor baby, poor Pascale.” Eloise went to Pascale and hugged her.
Pascale looked around, her wet eyes bright. Eloise kissed her on both cheeks. Pascale smiled and wiped her hand across her face. Eloise leant over the baby and pulled a face at her and Marie-Claire stopped crying, smiled and gave a little gurgle. Pascale got to her feet, lifting the baby and holding her close. She spoke