Michael struck her hard across the face.
“I had turned a deaf ear to the gossip,” he said, “and it has brought me humiliation! I’ve been made a fool of by that bastard in front of the entire court! He w
ill pay dearly for that. But as for you, you trollop, I have reached the limits of my tolerance. I do not know what sort of morals they have where you came from, but from now on, you will act as befits a proper lady. You will speak only when spoken to, you will dress more demurely, you will take care of your manners, and you will go nowhere without a proper chaperone. And if I ever catch you alone with any other man, I will have you whipped like a common slut!”
He turned and got into the coach. She climbed in after him, assisted by a liveried footman who had witnessed it all. She waited until the coach got rolling.
The servant who opened the door of the coach when they arrived at home staggered back with a cry at the sight of her blood-spattered gown. He ran when she told him to get Hentzau. Rupert came quickly. His eyes grew wide when he saw her.
“Sophia! Sophia, what-”
“Shut up and help me with him,” she said.
Hentzau looked into the coach. He sucked in a sharp breath. “Good God!” he said.
Michael was sprawled senseless on the seat with a handkerchief stuffed into his mouth. His face was covered with blood. One eye was swollen shut. His lip was badly cut, his nose was broken, and several teeth were missing. Hentzau turned to her.
“What happened? Are you all right? How did-” he had taken both her hands in his and now he stared down at her cut knuckles. He looked up at her with an expression of disbelief.
She jerked her hands away. “Bring him inside,” she said, then turned and went into the house.
Forrester handed the night scope to Lucas and pointed. “The keep,” he said. “Use maximum magnification. Zero in on that small turret sticking out from the tower at about eleven o’clock.”
Lucas held the scope to his eyes. “I don’t see anything,” he said. “What am I looking for?”
“The embrasures,” Forrester said.
“I still don’t see… wait.”
“What is it?” Andre said.
Lucas handed her the scope. “It’s hard to spot. You can barely make it out. They’ve got a laser tracking system set up in that turret. It sweeps across the entire compound.”
“I can’t see anything.”
“Keep watching. Look for a slight hint of movement.” “Got it.” She grunted. “Looks like floater-paks are out, then.” She put down the scope. “What’s next?”
“An evening swim,” said Forrester.
“Shit,” said Lucas.
“Come on, it’s not that cold,” said Andre, turning the scope toward the moat.
“That isn’t what bothers me,” Lucas said. “I must have been hanging around Finn too long. I think his paranoia is starting to rub off.”
“What do you mean?” said Forrester.
“If they were careful enough to guard against a floater-pak assault, they might have taken precautions about the moat, as well. How do we know they haven’t doped it with nasty little microorganisms?”
Andre shivered. “God. What makes you think of these things?”
“Your standard, basic-issue cowardice,” said Lucas. “Okay, so we don’t swim the moat,” said Forrester. “We bridge it.”
“Nysteel line?” said Andre. Forrester nodded.
“Moon’s full,” Lucas pointed out. “Nice night for silhouettes.”
Forrester glanced at him irately. “Did you just come along for moral support, or what?”