Her earnest gaze meets mine. “My lady, I would follow you anywhere.”

“Good. Then follow us to safety.” I set the girls from me, but Louise sways on her feet. I let go of Charlotte’s hand and pick up Louise so I may carry her in my arms. “Grab their cloaks. And boots. And any warm clothing you can find quickly. We do not have much time.”

She nods and hurries to the chest at the far side of the room.

I turn my attention back to the girls. “We must be very, very quiet. If anyone sees us, they will try to stop us, and we may never see one another again. Do you understand?”

Both nod solemnly, and Tephanie returns with her arms full of garments. “Shall I dress them now, my lady?”

“No, there will be time enough when we reach safety. Can you carry all that?”

“Yes, but what about you? Can you carry Louise the whole way?”

“I will not have to.” Just as we are ready to leave, there is a sound at the door. I whirl around to find Jamette staring at us.

“You’re back? I had hoped you would never return.”

“A minute more and I won’t,” I tell her. “The girls and I are leaving, and you will never have to see me again.”

Indecision flits across her pretty, shallow face and I find that all the hatred I once felt for her is gone. “Come with us if you like. You do not need to stay here.”

“No.” She all but spits the word. “I will not betray my lord father. Or yours.”

Suddenly, I am afraid for her, afraid the full force of our fathers’ anger will land on her silly head. “Do not be a fool, for they do not bear you the same loyalty and would wring your neck as soon as listen to your prattle. Come with us. You can have a new life, free of all this lying and deceit.”

Bitterness flashes in her eyes and she takes a step closer to me, her hands gripping her skirts. “I do not want a new life. I have always only wanted your life. All the admiration you commanded, all the attention you garnered, all the riches heaped upon you—those would be mine if you were gone.”

“If that is what you want, then all you must do is let us go.”

She shakes her head. “It is not that simple, and well you know it. I will be horribly punished if I do not stop you.”

And she is right. As she turns to go, I reach out to grab her, but Louise is heavy and I am not fast enough. Jamette steps beyond my grasp and dashes down the hallway.

I turn to the others. “We must go. Now.”

The hallway is still clear, but it will be only a matter of minutes before others arrive. I clasp Louise tightly, hold Charlotte’s hand, and pull them toward the bedchamber and Beast. If the guards find us before we reach safety, Beast will be our only hope.

Chapter Forty-Eight

WHEN WE ENTER THE ROOM, he looks up, the ferocity of his expression startling even to me. Then his gaze goes unerringly to Louise. Charlotte shrinks into my skirts, but Louise studies him curiously. “Who are you?” she asks in her high, clear voice. Beast glances at me, helpless, and I see agony in his eyes.

“Do not be afraid of him, Louise.”

“I’m not,” she says, sounding faintly affronted.

“Good. For he was very close to your mother and will see you to safety, no matter what happens. You, too,” I tell Charlotte. Then I turn my full attention to Beast. “We must hurry,” I warn him. “I was spotted, and Jamette has gone to raise the alarm.”

He nods, then looks surprised as I thrust Louise into his arms. “We will need a diversion so they do not discover your escape route. I must stay behind,” I say.

At his horrified expression, I rush to explain. “They cannot come anywhere near this room, else the passageway will be discovered and they will find you within minutes.”

“I will not leave you here!”

His eyes! Oh, his eyes! The fury and the anguish in them rob me of my breath. Two things define him—his honor and his loyalty—and he is being asked to abandon one of them.

Sensing his anger, Louise shifts restlessly in his arms, drawing his attention back to her. Using that to my advantage, I thrust Charlotte’s hand in his, quickly kiss both girls, then begin pushing them toward the bedchamber. “You must get them safely away. Everything else can wait.”

“I will be back,” he says, then leans forward and plants a savage, desperate kiss upon my lips, as if he would have me feel the force of his promise.

I do not indulge myself by watching them go but instead turn and take off the distinctive blue habit so d’Albret will not think to punish the Brigantian convent. I stuff it in one of the chests in the room and then peer out into the hall. I can hear approaching footsteps in the distance, but no one is within sight yet, so I step into the corridor and begin running in the opposite direction.

The sounds behind me draw closer, but if I can gain the main floor, I may be able to slip out the doors and lose myself among the servants in the courtyard. I hit the stairs at a full run, but my hope is quickly crushed by the sound of boots rushing toward me.

It is not the guards or soldiers or even Captain de Lur, but Julian. “Sybella!” His voice is full of both hope and caution. “You’re back!”

“I came for our sisters.”

“Sybella.” He reaches out to grab my arms.

I jerk away. “No. No.” And now that I am telling him no, I cannot stop. It is as if there is a great storm of noes that have been building inside me for years. “No, no, no.”

His brow furrows in concern and he tries again to take my arm. “Don’t touch me!” I pull out of his grip, breathing hard.

He stares at me in dismay. “What is wrong?”

“You. Us. The love you think is between us.”

He shakes his head gently, as if something is amiss with his hearing. “You don’t mean that.”

The confusion in his voice reminds me of when he was a young boy, and it pierces my heart. “I do,” I whisper.

“Why did you run away?” Even though he tries to hide it, the pain in his voice is clear.

What do I tell him? Do I speak of the convent, and my work there? Or do I simply say what is in my heart, the reason I went to the convent in the first place? “Because I was dying inside, Julian. I could not bear this life one moment longer.”

“But we had plans. I have been working to gain our father’s trust so he will grant me a holding of my own. Then we will have a life together. The life we have dreamed of since we were children.”

“That you dreamed of Julian, not me.” In spite of the gentleness of my voice, he acts as if he has been struck.

“But we talked of it, planned it together . . .”

“When we were young, Julian, too young to know that sisters and brothers did not marry and have babies together. What was between us was wrong—”

“Why should we care what the world thinks? They do not understand the bond we share. The horrors we have endured together. I wouldn’t have survived if not for you, Sybella.”

I close my eyes. “Nor I without you, but that does not make what you asked of me right. I only did it because I was afraid of losing you, afraid that you would no longer protect me or be my friend.”

He stares at me in silence, as if he has never truly seen me before. “I was always your friend and would never have stopped protecting you.”

“Julian, you betrayed me! You told on the blacksmith’s boy and had him killed!”

His eyes are wild and his breath grows ragged. “I saved you from a life as a blacksmith’s whore—bearing his dirty little brats and living an existence of toil and labor. I saved you from a lifetime of looking over your shoulder wondering when our father would find you, for he would never have stopped searching. Surely you know that.”

“If all that is true, as you say, then how could you ever have used our sisters against me?”

“I was sent to collect them on Father’s orders.”

“And the locks of hair? What were those, Julian, if not a threat?”