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will have instructed his men to watch for anyone on the move so incapacitated.” He lay back in thoughtful silence, watching Roberta from half-closed eyes. “Unless, mademoiselle, you will agree to help me,” he added. He spoke so softly that Roberta was certain she had misheard.
    “Help you?” she queried in outraged tones, forgetting for a minute that she had suggested this possibility to Mrs. Ashley just a little while earlier. “And why would I want to do that?”
    “To save my life. As worthless as most people consider it, I happen to hold it in great esteem.”
    Roberta looked about her. There was a tenseness to the two men as they waited for her response, and Mrs. Ashley was shaking her head vehemently. Perhaps it was this that decided Roberta, or the encouraging smile that suddenly lit Sir Nicholas’s rugged features. Without further consideration, she nodded her head.
    “Worthless life or not, Sir Nicholas,” she said, “I cannot be party to abetting a Frenchman in dousing it. I suggest we all get a good night’s rest and discuss how I may be of assistance on the morrow.” Without a backward glance, she joined Mrs. Ashley, who was speechless with horror, and quietly bid the two men good night.
    “One moment,” Sir Nicholas said, halting her at the doorway. “Does my angel have a name?”
    “Miss Rushforth. Roberta Rushforth,” she responded. She left with quiet dignity, taking Mrs. Ashley with her.
    “Well, I never, Henri,” Sir Nicholas exclaimed. “I wonder what her uncle would say if he knew she had agreed to help me.”
    “ Je ne saispas, monsieur, ” Henri replied as he quickly stripped Sir Nicholas of his outer garments. “But I’m certain you will have found a way out of your dilemma by the time you reach England. Yon have the papers, non? Is that how you received this—this cut?”
    Sir Nicholas nodded.
    “Perhaps you should tell mademoiselle the truth, then?”
    “Never,” Sir Nicholas rejoined, “for that would jeopardize the lives of too many people. ’Tis best, methinks, that she believes what Jacques told her. Ignorance is the best defense, should anything go wrong.”

C hapter 3
    By the time the morning sun was casting its pale-yellow light through the thin muslin curtains of the parlor, Roberta was already enjoying a substantial breakfast. Marie, attending her, didn’t hesitate to express her admiration for Roberta’s appetite, in view of suffering such a disturbed night.
    “That is the very thing that makes me hungry,” Roberta responded. “How is the patient? I trust he is recovering?”
    Marie shrugged her plump shoulders. “Henri says he is in some pain and unable to move his arm easily. I say he is lucky to be alive. It is not sensible to—to entice a woman like the comte’s sister. She is not well liked in these parts,” she added as she saw Roberta’s inquisitive expression. “And the comte is very possessive of her.”
    “She must have certain attractions,” Roberta said, “else Sir Nicholas wouldn’t have taken the risk of incurring the comte’s wrath.”
    “Ah! Indeed, mademoiselle. She is beautiful. But, unfortunately, she is like the rare butterfly, whose name I forget, that feeds only on the leaves of milkweed.”
    “But I thought milkweed was poisonous to insects,” Roberta commented, surprised by the venom in Marie’s voice.
    “As is her soul,” Marie responded firmly. “I have seen what she has done to many of the young men here. But that is not our concern. Sir Nicholas is a determined man and refused to heed my warnings.” She retrieved Roberta’s empty plate and bustled to the door. “I will bring you some fresh coffee now, oui? ”
    Roberta nodded, sorry that Marie’s confidences had ended. She would have liked to have heard more of the beauty Sir Nicholas had risked his life to see. There was something about the story that bothered her. Her first impression of Sir Nicholas had been that he was a forceful person but not