My Surrender by Connie Brockway

released a hiss of breath and his eyelids fell shut. He opened his eyes and seeing Charlotte’s expression, rose to his feet, looking down at her. “I cannot overstate the importance of this letter. It is not only the sender who stands in grave danger should his identity be revealed and it is not only his nation which shall feel Napoleon’s wrath upon discovering his betrayal. The papal city, too, will suffer. More priests, so recently allowed to return to their dioceses, will suffer.”
    “Sir?”
    He leaned over her, his fierce gaze compelling her to understand. “Napoleon and the Pope are at odds. Each month Napoleon’s greed and mania for power swells. He has begun to resent the pope’s refusal to join his embargo against Britain. If this letter is revealed to have been bound for the papal offices and opened…” He shook his head. “It will be the excuse Napoleon has been looking for to break all ties with the Church and declare the pope his enemy.
    “You see now why I am so distraught. I never approved of Mrs. Mulgrew’s plan, but only a fool could not see it stood the best chance of succeeding in retrieving that letter. Now…” He gestured in the manner of someone throwing something away and turned, his shoulders so tightly bunched she could see them shivering. “We must retrieve that letter. No matter what the sacrifice. No matter who makes the sacrifice. We must. We must !”
    He looked around at her and she realized he was holding his breath, his emotions so strong a little drop of foam had developed in the corner of his mouth. His eyes pleaded with her for understanding. His hands twitched.
    “I understand,” Charlotte said, a little revolted, a great deal moved by his dedication and his moral quandary. “Completely. And I must admit that I am relieved that we are in accord with one another on this subject.”
    The monk straightened, turning to face her completely. “What do you mean?”
    “I intend to go in Mrs. Mulgrew’s place.”
    His eyes grew round with amazement. His mouth fell open a fraction of an inch and snapped shut. “What? I should forbid it,” he whispered.
    The monk was being disingenuous.
    “Brother Toussaint,” she said mildly, “that is why you asked for this meeting, is it not? To ask me if an alternative might be found to take Mrs. Mulgrew’s place? And who would that alternative be if not me?”
    His eyes widened with offense. “I…I wasn’t certain…That is, I hadn’t thought you would—”
    She took pity on him. “You do not want me to do this. I understand. I’m not too keen on it myself. But you knew that I was the only viable substitute. It’s unworthy of you to pretend otherwise.
    “Please,” she continued before he could renew his protest, “allow me to finish. You had made the difficult decision to suggest this but then, when I arrived, you were struck anew by how very young I am, how inexperienced in the ways of the world. So you thought better of your original, impossible decision. But your original impulse was not wrong.”
    He did not attempt any further remonstration, instead saying, “But how can you hope to carry off such an impersonation?” His face lit with sudden inspiration. “I can—”
    “You needn’t do anything, Brother Toussaint,” she reassured him. “I will impose on Dand Ross to aid me.”
    “Dand? Here? Now?” She had the impression she had utterly flummoxed him. He blinked, as though trying to clear his vision. “My God…it is Providence then,” he murmured, his hand forming the sign of the cross above his heart. “It was meant to be.”
    “I suspect Providence has little to do with the comings and goings of Dand Ross,” Charlotte said dryly. “He came to report the missing letter. A fact with which we were already acquainted. He must return to France in a few weeks. But by then, I shall no longer need his aid.”
    “Is he coming here? To see me?” Toussaint asked.
    “No.” Charlotte shook her head. “He