Page 47 of The Rebellious Countess (The Ruined Duchess #2)
The cardinal stared down his thin nose at Elias, and Aventine snapped her extended hand with impatience. For a moment, Máira thought the cardinal would step out of the boat, until he tore his ceremonial robe from his body, and began folding it as if he planned to keep it.
“Mother,” Elias said, his voice tinged with anger.
It was all that was necessary. Aventine place one foot in the middle of the boat, grabbed the robe and hopped off once more, the robe dragging in the water behind her.
“How dare?—”
“A man of God would not value a piece of cloth more than a human life, would he?” Aventine asked, but the cardinal turned his head away, his nose so high in the air, Máira suspected the angels could see it.
“I need that cut in long strips.” Elias said, and the cardinal gasped as he made the sign of the cross. Father Charles closed his eyes and sighed, while Sébastien watched on with his mouth dropped open and his eyes as big as the full moon peeking out from the clouds.
Aventine pulled a knife from her boot and cut the train from the robe and then cut it into long strips with Sébastien’s help.
When they were finished, Aventine rolled the rest of the robe into a ball, jumped up, and stuffed the entire garment into a drainage vent off the stone tower, effectively preventing the ruby red cloth from alerting any guards who might look over the ramparts.
“Get in the boat, Mother.”
“I can hang?—”
“Get. In. The. Boat.”
Aventine bristled almost as much as the cardinal had.
“You can’t swim. You are a liability outside the boat. Inside, you can care for Astley and Sébastien.”
Elias turned to her. “You said you were a good swimmer.”
“I am.”
“Have you ever gone up against a current like this?”
She couldn’t lie. Other than the open ocean, she had never seen waves such as these. Even the loch in the dead of winter didn’t reach this level of hidden brutality. “No, but I swam the loch all the time. This water feels like bath water in comparison. I can do it.”
Elias grinned and then addressed the cardinal. “Your Eminence, I need you in the front of the boat with the boy.” The cardinal’s only movement was the firm press of his lips into a thin line. Her husband wasn’t fazed. “Unless you would like to do the rowing.”
The cardinal moved without argument, his displeasure evident in his stiff posture as he made his way forward.
Elias watched the ramparts for signs of their discovery while Aventine helped Sébastien into the stern, and proceeded to the bow, where she made herself ready to cradle Simon against her body.
Elias waded into the thrashing waves, pulled Simon from his shoulders and laid him between his mother’s legs.
The cardinal shot a glance over his shoulder, his disapproval evident.
Father Charles whispered, “A light just appeared on the rampart. We must go.”
Elias held the boat for Father Charles to get inside. “Are you certain you can handle this?” he asked her.
“Yes.” No. The summer air might be warm enough, but the water wasn’t the temperature of a bath and the waves were crashing against her legs as if they wanted to eat her alive.
She wasn’t certain at all about her swimming skills in the treacherous dark waters, but she would not be the cause of their failure.
“Tie this to your waist, the other end will be tied to mine.” She nodded and did as he instructed with the train from the cardinal’s robe, and Elias tied the other end around himself. “Sébastien, do you know how to tie yourself to the boat using a bowline knot?”
“Aye, aye, Captain.” The boy saluted Elias, and took the long piece of the robe Elias held out to him.
“Father Charles, are you comfortable assisting if I need to right the boat?”
Father Charles nodded. “Yes.”
Elias turned to his mother and gave her two strips, leaving a piece of rope draped over his arm.
“Mother, tie yourself and Astley in as well. If anything happens, don’t panic, I will be right here.
” She scowled as if panicking was beyond the pale, but her fear was evident in the way her eyes darted toward the violent surge of the water rocking their tiny craft.
The cardinal held out his hand, waiting for a strip of his cloth to tie himself into the boat.
“My apologies, Your Eminence. All I have left is the rope I will be tying to the boat, so that I may pull it.” Elias didn’t sound the least bit apologetic.
The cardinal nearly choked on his objection. “What am I supposed to do?”
“I suggest you cut off a piece of your hassock, say a prayer for all of us, and make sure you stay close to the boy. If he goes down, so will you.”
The cardinal’s skin turned pasty, but he didn’t wait to see if Elias would change his mind. He reached for the hem of his hassock and began tearing the black material with red piping as if his very life depended upon it.
“Take off your shoes, they’ll only pull you down.
” Elias took off the soldier’s jacket and began stripping from the waist up, as Máira removed her shoes and placed them in the boat behind Father Charles.
She turned to find her husband looming behind her, his strong muscular physique made that much more imposing by the exquisite backdrop of Mont Saint Michel.
He lowered his voice. “I’m going to tie myself to the bow hook with the rope. If something happens, use your knife and cut the sash between us.”
“You mean the rope?”
“No, Máira. The sash. You will not be able to cut the rope quickly enough. Cut the sash and swim to shore.”
“But—”
His voice took on the authoritarian tone he had used on her aboard ship on their way to France. “You will not go down with this boat. Understood?”
She nodded in agreement, but secretly, she would never adhere to his directive. He had never been her captain. He was her lover, her husband, her life. She would not allow him to go down with the ship alone.
Elias pushed the boat into deeper water, and together they waded into the wind-roughened bay, their most violent adversary yet.