Last Chance for Paris - Merry Farmer Page 0,30
Lord Addlebury be sent for at once. You will not send us anywhere until we speak to him.”
“You are in no position to dictate to me,” the officer said, moving suddenly closer to her. His scowl turned into a leer. “Although you and I could come to a private arrangement for your freedom, chère.”
He brushed his fingers against Dorothy’s knuckles as she gripped the bars. Dorothy recoiled with an indignant sound.
“Stay away from my fiancée,” Marshall roared, grabbing the bars of their cell as if he would yank them apart.
“You are in no position to threaten me, monsieur.” The officer turned back to him, looking as though all he needed was an excuse to drag Marshall out of his cell and beat him within an inch of his life.
“I’ll eat your liver for breakfast,” Marshall said, not backing down. “I’ll—”
Whatever other violent plans Marshall had were cut short by a commotion at the end of the hall between the cells. The officer turned toward the entrance with an irritated frown. Whatever he saw had his brow flying up. “Qu'est-ce que cela veut dire?” he demanded, marching just out of their sight.
Solange and Dorothy leaned hard against their cell’s bars, and Louis was certain they could see whatever was going on at the doorway.
“Get out of my way,” a prickly, female voice demanded.
“Oh, my God,” Dorothy exclaimed, her eyes going wide and her face splashing with color.
Curiosity gnawed at Louis for all of three seconds before the straight-backed, grey-haired, buttoned up form of the McGovern family’s chaperone, Miss Wendine Sewett, marched down the hall and came to stand between the cells that held their group.
“You will release these people at once,” Miss Sewett demanded, tilting her chin in the air.
Dorothy and Solange gaped. So did Damien and Sebastian. Marshall merely stood where he was, dumbstruck, and Louis scrambled for something to say but came up with nothing.
“Madame, you have no authority to be here,” the officer said, standing at his full height and marching toward Miss Sewett.
If he intended to intimidate her with his physical presence, he was out of luck. Miss Sewett was at least six inches shorter than him, but she stood as though she towered over him. “You have no right to hold members of the English aristocracy prisoner,” she told him, like a nanny scolding her charge. “It is undignified and unacceptable.”
“Madame.” The officer changed his tactics, speaking to Miss Sewett in a coddling voice. “Let me escort you out of this unpleasant place. A prison is no place for a lady like—”
“I am not a lady, I am a companion,” Miss Sewett snapped. “But at the moment, I am a spokesperson for the entire structure of the English aristocracy, and I can tell you that what you have done here is an egregious breech of protocol, formality, and etiquette.” She poked her finger into the officer’s chest with each point she made.
The officer stammered, unable to form his protest into words other than, “Madame, you should not be here.”
“None of these fine people should be here.” Miss Sewett gestured to the gentlemen and nodded to the ladies. “Have you no shame? No proper respect for God’s natural order?”
“But…but they have been accused of espionage,” the officer protested, now on the back foot.
Miss Sewett drew herself up to her full, imperious height. “English earls are incapable of espionage, sir,” she said curtly. “Anyone connected to such a noble family as the McGoverns is physically unable of doing anything half so base. And it is a travesty of justice and order to even think to lock them behind bars with common prostitutes and thieves.” She sniffed and made a sour face as she glanced to the women in the cell with Solange and Dorothy.
“Qu'est-ce que vous avez dit?” the bored prostitute said, pushing away from the wall and sauntering toward the bars, glaring at Miss Sewett.
Either Miss Sewett didn’t speak French or thought the prostitute was beneath her. She turned back to the officer and said, “You will release Lord Reith, Lord Sinclair, Lord Gregory, Mr. and Miss McGovern and Miss Lafarge at once.”
Rather than scoffing or curling his lip, as he had done with the rest of them, the officer took a step back from Miss Sewett. “Madame, you have no part in this business.”
“I have every part in it,” Miss Sewett said, pursuing him as he inched down the hallway. “I am chaperone to the McGovern party, and I take my duties very seriously.”
Louis almost laughed