| . . . The lad set his cape aside and removed his | | | | France who will be taking the information to |
| hat to reveal he wasn't a he at all, but rather a | | | | England. Needless to say, this information |
| she. The poorly fixed blond hair tumbled down her | | | | jeopardizes the kingdom and sabotages our war |
| back, and she fixed a steady gaze on Compton. | | | | effort; if it were to reach England, the effects |
| Compton put the gun back into the compartment | | | | would be devastating. Their plans must be brought |
| without making a sound. "Please excuse my | | | | from Calais and returned to his majesté. |
| appearance and the deception, Milord Compton, | | | | We cannot afford to have traitors at the very |
| but there was no other way I could reach you | | | | heart of France." |
| without the charade. My father, Thomas d'Anlass, | | | | "Have you no further information about who the |
| sent me to you. He told me that you would give | | | | traitor, and spy, is?" |
| me further instructions." | | | | "I'm afraid we haven't much more. Your father's |
| "Mademoiselle Laurel," his lordship half asked. | | | | the one who has been tracking him for eight and |
| Clearly the woman was Thomas' daughter, and | | | | a half years." Compton expelled a breath. "The |
| equally as obvious was her expectation that she | | | | most I can tell you is that he's a man with a |
| would be able to simply step into a role very | | | | great deal of power, influence, and access. |
| similar to the marquis'. Never had his long-time | | | | Obviously, we can't afford to waste any time |
| friend done or permitted anything so asinine | | | | when tracking this man." He handed the marquis' |
| before. "Parbleu, why did your father get you | | | | daughter a packet with some further instructions. |
| involved in this international tangle? He should not | | | | "Get going." Before he changed his mind |
| have subjected you to such danger." | | | | regardless of the potential consequences. Did |
| "Milord, with all due respect, I have always been in | | | | Thomas ever have a lot to answer for! Especially |
| danger, whether I stayed at home or | | | | if Laurel was anywhere near as good as Thomas |
| accompanied my father on his missions as a spy | | | | at losing men sent to tail him. For some reason he |
| for King Louis XIII. I do not think that the danger | | | | suspected she was. |
| to me now is significantly greater than it has been | | | | * * * * * * * * * * * * * |
| in the past." From inside her doublet she withdrew | | | | Laurel secreted the instructions in her doublet |
| a portfolio of papers and presented them to the | | | | underneath the jerkin and the cloth that tightly |
| man. "These are the documents my father and I | | | | bound her breasts. Her soft leather boots, very |
| obtained upon our last visit to Brussels more than | | | | similar to those musketeers wore, echoed off the |
| a year ago. I put them in your safekeeping until | | | | cobblestones and blended in with the sounds of |
| such time that they can be safely delivered to his | | | | the busy port city. She darted around the corner |
| majesté." | | | | and searched for her horse. |
| "So now you'll have me turning a marriageable, | | | | Stopping short, she pressed herself to the wall, |
| single lady into a spy. You are what . . . scarcely | | | | flat. How had they found her so soon? Well, the |
| nine and ten?" He didn't wait for an answer. He | | | | horse was lost. Poor Rebelle, but there was |
| knew Laurel had just reached that age a fortnight | | | | nothing she could do for the faithful animal now. |
| earlier, though she'd obviously played at being a | | | | Those men obviously knew Rebelle was from the |
| young lad on the verge of manhood for years. | | | | Marquis de Langeac's estate. She took a fortifying |
| "I'm sorry, mademoiselle. I cannot permit it. I'll | | | | breath and dashed back in the direction from |
| have to send someone else." It'd be hard to find | | | | which she had come. |
| someone else, particularly someone who worked | | | | At least she still had a hefty sum of money and |
| well with Thomas, but it had to be done. How | | | | one of her father's basket hilts. Hopefully she |
| dare his old friend and the best spy in his network | | | | wasn't too out of practice with the sword, for |
| put him in this untenable position! | | | | she had a sinking feeling that she would have to |
| "I'm not so young, milord. I am already nearly an | | | | be using it all too soon. |
| old maid, or have you forgotten that I am no | | | | And her other numerous skills too. |
| longer a girl and no longer a very desirable catch | | | | Laurel quickly checked her hair and was satisfied |
| on the marriage market?" Save for the | | | | to note that the tight braid had stayed pinned |
| impressive dowry that came with her, but she | | | | underneath her hat. As long as no one looked too |
| chose to overlook that fact. "I may only be a | | | | closely, no one would ever suspect she was not |
| woman, but especially in this I am more capable | | | | the lad she pretended to be. The woman stopped |
| than most any man you will find. No, you'll send no | | | | short as she caught sight of a merchant talking to |
| one else, Compton," she stated and stood, leaning | | | | several armed swordsmen; hired blades. The |
| her hands against his desk. "No one else knows | | | | merchant looked up and pointed at her, indicating |
| where my father is or how to reach him. I do. | | | | that was the boy who had come in on the horse |
| Unless you send me, you'll never get in touch with | | | | in question. At first she thought herself paranoid, |
| Thomas d'Anlass again. Nor will you ever get your | | | | but then she saw the four fighters weaving their |
| hands on the last of the information he has gone | | | | way through the crowd and towards her. |
| to acquire." | | | | Diantre! The devil! |
| A vein throbbed in Compton's temple as he | | | | Her ladyship wasted not so much as an iota more |
| stared at the defiant woman before him. He didn't | | | | of time. Abruptly, she backpedaled and sprinted |
| doubt she would follow through on her ultimatum. | | | | away from the men, turning and twisting through |
| In that respect she was very like her father. | | | | the streets in an effort to lose her pursuers. |
| "Very well. Be seated," Compton said as he laid a | | | | Unfortunately, she didn't know her way around |
| map of Europe upon the table and began | | | | Marseille very well, and these men most obviously |
| imparting instructions to her. Laurel's willfulness | | | | did. |
| would be taken care of later. Thomas' too. | | | | "Saperlipopette," she exclaimed, and added "drat" |
| "Then I go to Calais?" she concluded with a | | | | for good measure, as she found herself faced |
| question. | | | | with a dead end and saw her pursuers closing in |
| "Oui," said Compton. "We've gotten wind of | | | | on her inexorably. This couldn't be happening. She |
| Prussian, Austrian, and Spanish agents passing | | | | wouldn't let this happen. . . . |
| very damaging information to an agent here in | | | | |