The Valet Who Loved Me - Valerie Bowman Page 0,73

yards away until the baron and the maid alighted and took off toward the northeast quadrant of the intersection.

Marianne and Beau waited for the two to disappear into the forest before tying their horse to a nearby tree and quietly but quickly following along behind Winfield and Albina. The coach the two had come in was waiting at the intersection, so Marianne and Beau were forced to stay inside the treeline, out of sight of the driver, as they followed Winfield and Albina toward the French camp.

The night was silent and clear, thank heavens, and the apprehension pumping through Marianne’s body kept her from being cold, though a mid-October wind rustled the autumn leaves in the trees as they picked their way through the underbrush.

Finally, they approached a break in the trees, and Beau, who was in the lead, motioned for Marianne to stay back. He crouched down and she did too.

Several yards in front of them, Winfield and Albina were hidden in the trees on the edge of the clearing. They were obviously trying to decide how best to approach the camp.

“I want ta go wit ye, me dear,” Albina said in a voice that was high-pitched enough for Marianne to hear.

“That fool will bring the entire camp on our heads,” Beau whispered through clenched teeth.

Marianne merely nodded, keeping her eyes trained on the couple.

Apparently, Winfield convinced his mistress to lower her voice and follow him, because soon, the two of them emerged from the treeline and crept toward the French camp.

The camp itself wasn’t as large as Marianne had expected. There were perhaps a dozen large tents set up in three rows of three. Several horses and a carriage were tied to trees to the right of the tents, near the forest’s edge. Smoke billowing from the far side of the camp indicated that the soldiers had a fire going over there, and singing and boisterousness told her some of them must be in their cups already.

Marianne and Beau watched until Winfield and Albina disappeared into the first row of tents on the edge of the camp.

“Should we follow them?” Marianne asked, her eyes darting back and forth.

“No, let’s hang back and see what happens. If I don’t mistake my guess, the good baron is about to either be shot or taken prisoner.”

They waited in complete silence for what had to have been at least a quarter hour before a woman’s scream startled them from their rigid positions crouching in the trees.

“Albina?’ Marianne whispered.

Beau cursed under his breath. “I’d stake my fortune on it. Let’s go.”

They took off along the treeline, but instead of going left as Winfield and Albina had, Beau went right. They stayed inside the treeline, not venturing from that cover, until they made it to the spot closest to the horses. Then Beau sprinted out to hide behind a coach, his back to the conveyance.

Marianne soon followed, mimicking his actions, and they made their way closer to the tents, crouching behind the horses until they came to the farthest tent on the right.

Motioning for Marianne to remain silent, Beau leaned his ear against the side of the tent curtain to listen.

After apparently discerning that the tent was empty, he pushed the curtain aside and Marianne held her breath until they saw that the space was indeed clear.

They did the same thing for the next two tents, Marianne’s brow sweating a bit more each time.

When they came to the fourth tent one row up, Beau gave her a hand signal with one finger up to indicate that at least one person appeared to be inside. Next, he gave her the hand signal to go back. She retreated to the last empty tent and watched with bated breath while Beau listened at the curtain before parting it just barely enough to see inside without being seen himself.

He quickly let the curtain drop again and retreated to meet Marianne behind the empty tent.

“Who is it?” Marianne asked, searching Beau’s face.

Beau’s face was grim. “Appears to be two prisoners. They’re wearing British uniforms.”

Marianne sucked in her breath. “I must go see. It could be David.”

“Very well. Go look, but then come back here and stay. I’m going to go a bit farther up to see if I can find out what happened to Winfield and Albina.”

Marianne and Beau exchanged a glance.

“Be careful, Beau.”

“You too.”

He was off in a flash before Marianne took another deep breath and steeled her nerves to go look into the prisoners’ tent. She knew

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