Kitabı oku: «The Infamous Arrandales»

Chapter Two

They rode through the woods with only the thudding beat of the cantering horse to break the silence. Cassie made no attempt to speak. It was difficult to see through the gloom and she wanted her companion to concentrate his efforts on guiding them safely between the trees. Only when he slowed the horse to a walk did she break the silence.

‘Do you know where we are going?’

She immediately berated herself for asking the question in English, but he answered her with only the faintest trace of an accent.

‘At present I have no idea,’ came the cheerful reply. ‘Once we are clear of the trees and I can see the sky I shall be able to tell you.’ He added, when she shifted before him, ‘Would you like to get down? We should rest this nag for a while.’

He brought the horse to a stand and eased Cassie to the ground. It was only then she realised her legs would not hold her and grabbed the saddle for support.

The man jumped down beside her.

‘Come, let us walk a little and your limbs will soon be restored.’

He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. His clothes were rough and smelled of dirt and sweat, but Cassie was in no position yet to walk unaided so she allowed him to support her. His strength was comforting, but he puzzled her. His manner and his voice belonged to an educated man, yet he had the ragged appearance of a fugitive.

She said cautiously, ‘I have not thanked you for coming to my rescue. What were you doing there?’

‘I needed a horse.’

His calm answer surprised her into a laugh.

‘That raises even more questions, monsieur.’

She thought he might fob her off, but he answered quite frankly.

‘I was being pursued and ran into the woods for cover. I saw the horse tethered to the carriage wheel with no one to guard him, since your companions were too busy threatening you. I was very grateful for that and thought it would be churlish to ride off and leave you to your fate.’

‘It would indeed.’

Cassie kept her voice calm, but she was beginning to wonder if she had jumped from the frying pan to the fire.

She made a slight move to free herself and immediately he released her. Reassured, she continued to keep pace with him, the horse clip-clopping behind them while the moon sailed overhead in the clear, ink-blue sky.

‘So you are a fugitive,’ she said, with some satisfaction. ‘I thought as much.’

‘And you are not afraid of me?’

Cassie’s head went up.

‘I am afraid of no one.’ She realised how foolish her swift retort would sound, considering her current situation, and she added slowly, ‘Not afraid. Cautious. As one should be of a stranger.’

‘True, but we can remedy that.’ He stopped and sketched a bow. ‘I am Raoul Doulevant, at your service.’

He expected a reply and after a moment she said, ‘I am Lady Cassandra Witney.’

‘And you are English, which is why we are conversing in this barbaric tongue.’

‘Then let us talk in French,’ she replied, nettled.

‘As you wish.’ He caught her left hand. Neither of them was wearing gloves and his thumb rubbed across the plain gold band on her third finger.

‘Ah. I addressed you as mademoiselle when we first met. My apologies, madame.’

She was shocked that his touch should feel so intimate and she drew her hand away. ‘We should get on.’

When she began to walk again he fell into step beside her.

‘Where is your husband?’

Cassie hesitated for a heartbeat’s pause before she replied.

‘At Verdun.’

‘He is a détenu?’

Again she hesitated, not wanting to admit she was a widow. That she was alone and unprotected.

‘Yes. That scoundrel you knocked down was the courier I hired to escort me back to England.’

‘A bad choice, clearly.’

She felt the hot tears prickling at the back of her eyes and blinked them away. This was no time for self-pity.

‘And what of you?’ she asked him, anxious to avoid more questions concerning her situation. ‘Who is pursuing you?’

‘Officers of the law. They think I am a deserter.’

‘They think it? And is it not so?’

‘No. I was discharged honourably from the navy six months ago.’

She said, a hint of censure in her voice, ‘In the present circumstances, with the country at war, I would have thought any true Frenchman would wish to remain in the service of his country, monsieur.’

‘Any true Frenchman might,’ he retorted. ‘But I am from Brussels. I grew up in the Southern Netherlands, under Austrian rule.’

‘And yet your French is excellent.’

‘My family came originally from a town near the French border and moved to Brussels when I was a babe, so I grew up learning the language. Then I moved to Paris and later joined the French Navy, so you see, for years I have spoken nothing else.’

* * *

The lady made no reply and Raoul asked himself bitterly why he put himself out to explain. What difference would it make to her? She was English and everyone knew they thought themselves superior to the rest of Europe. It was the very worst of bad fortune that he should have saddled himself with an English aristo!

‘The horse is rested now,’ he said shortly. ‘I think we can ride again.’

He mounted and reached down for her, pulling her up before him. He tried not to think how small and feminine she was, how the faint trace of perfume reminded him of balmy summer days. She settled herself on the horse, her dark curls tickling his chin. When the horse stumbled in the dark she clutched at his sleeve and instinctively he wrapped one arm around her waist.

She gasped and said haughtily, ‘Thank you, you do not need to hold me so tightly. I am in no danger of falling now.’

His jaw clenched. If she thought he had designs upon her she was much mistaken. Silently he released her and put both hands back on the reins, but it was impossible not to be aware of her for she was practically sitting on his lap. He thought ruefully that he would have enjoyed the situation, if she had been anything other than an Englishwoman.

They travelled on, alternatively walking and riding, but maintaining an awkward silence. Raoul concentrated on guiding their mount through the near darkness of the woods. At length he noticed that the trees were thinning and they emerged on to a wide track that stretched like a grey ribbon in the starry darkness. They dismounted and Raoul stared up at the sky. The moon had gone and the stars were dimming in the first light of dawn.

‘Do you know where we are now?’ she asked him.

‘We have been travelling north.’

‘The wrong direction.’

‘That depends upon where one wishes to go, madame.’

* * *

Cassie bit her lip. She was in a foreign land, enemy country. This man had saved her from an immediate danger, but there was no reason why he should do more for her. Indeed, the alacrity with which he had released her when the horse had missed its step suggested he had no wish to help her further. Yet she needed help. Her encounter with Merimon had shown her that.

She asked politely, ‘What is your destination, monsieur?’

‘Brussels.’

‘I want to get to England. Do you think it might be easier from there?’ She added, trying not to sound anxious, ‘I gave my passport to the courier.’

‘Then you have no papers.’

‘No.’

Suddenly she felt very vulnerable, alone in the middle of France with a stranger. A fugitive and she had only his word that he was not a villain. His next words sent a chill of fear through her blood.

‘Do you have any money?’

* * *

Even in the gloom Raoul saw the look of apprehension flicker across the lady’s face and it incensed him.

He said coldly, ‘I am no thief, madame, I do not intend to steal from you.’

She came back at him with all the arrogance he had come to expect from the English, head up, eyes flashing.

‘How do I know that? You stole the horse, after all.’

His lip curled, but it occurred to him that she had no other defence so he reined in an angry response. Instead he growled, ‘Remember, madame, I could have left you to your fate with those two villains.’

‘That is very true,’ she acknowledged. ‘I am obliged to you and I beg your pardon.’ She drew in a long breath, ‘And, yes, I do have a little money.’

Her stiff apology doused his anger immediately. He smiled.

‘Then you have the advantage of me, madame, for I have not a sou.’

‘Oh, I see. Let me give you something for rescuing me—’

He recoiled instantly.

‘That is not necessary,’ he said quickly. ‘After all, I have this fine horse, do I not?’

‘Yes, of course. He will carry you to Brussels, I am sure.’ She paused. ‘Is it far from here?’

He shrugged. ‘Depending on just where we are, three or four days’ travel, I would think. You would do better if you head for Reims, it is much closer and you will be able to buy your passage from there to the coast.’

‘Thank you.’ He watched her look at the sky, then up and down the track. ‘So, Reims would be that way?’

She pointed in a southerly direction, trying to sound matter of fact, as if she was well accustomed to setting off alone, in the dark, along a little-used road through an alien land, but Raoul heard the note of anxiety in her voice.

She is not your concern.

‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘If you keep to this track I have no doubt it will bring you to the Reims road. The sun will be coming up soon, you will have no difficulty finding your way.’

‘Then I will bid you adieu, Monsieur Doulevant,’ she said quietly. ‘I thank you for your assistance and I hope you reach Brussels safely.’

She gave a little curtsy, suddenly looking so lost and woebegone that every protective instinct he had rose to the fore.

‘Wait!’

Don’t do this, man. You owe her nothing.

Raoul ignored the warning voice in his head.

‘I will take you as far as Reims.’

The flash of relief he saw in her face was quickly replaced with suspicion.

‘How do I know you will not strangle me for my money?’

He ground his teeth.

‘If I strangle you, milady, it will be for your sharp tongue!’

Strangely, his words seemed to reassure her. She gave an imperious little nod.

‘I accept your escort, sir, and I thank you.’

‘It is my pleasure,’ he replied with equal insincerity. ‘Come, we will ride.’

* * *

As she allowed herself to be pulled once more on to the horse Cassie was relieved that she was not obliged to make the long walk alone. Her escort explained that they must not overtax their mount and they made slow progress. The road was deserted and they saw no one except a swineherd who was happy to sell Cassie his food sack in exchange for a handful of coins. The bag contained only wine and bread, but it was enough for two and at noon they rested in the shade of a tree to eat.

Cassie was hot and thirsty and when he handed her the flask she took a long draught. The wine was very rough and she felt its effects immediately.

Her companion broke off a piece of bread and held it out to her.

‘So you left your husband in Verdun?’

‘Yes.’ Cassie was tempted to tell him her husband was dead, but she remembered Merimon’s taunt and decided it was safer to infer she had a husband to protect her honour, even if he was many miles away. ‘Yes, he is at Verdun.’

She took the bread and nibbled at it as he surveyed her with his dark eyes.

‘I am surprised he allowed you to travel alone. You are very young to be married.’

Cassie straightened.

‘I am old enough!’

One dark brow went up.

‘How old?’ he asked her. ‘You do not look more than eighteen.’

‘I am nearly one-and-twenty and have been married a full year.’

‘Vraiment? Tsk, what were your parents about to allow such a thing?’

‘My parents died when I was a child.’

‘Even worse, then, for your guardian to approve it.’

Cassie thought of Grandmama.

‘She did not approve. We eloped.’

Cassie wondered why she had told him that. She was not proud of how she had behaved and the fact that it had all gone wrong just showed how foolish she had been. Falling in love had been a disaster and it was not a mistake she intended to make again. Glancing up at that moment, she thought she detected disapproval in those dark eyes. Well, let him disapprove. She cared not for his opinion, or for any man’s. She scrambled to her feet and shook the crumbs from her skirts.

‘Shall we continue?’

With a shrug he packed away the rest of the wine and bread and soon they were on their way again. Cassie maintained what she hoped was a dignified silence, but she was very much afraid Raoul Doulevant would think it more of a childish sulk. However, it could not be helped. She could not justify herself to him without explaining everything and that she would not do to a total stranger.

* * *

The sun was sinking when they met a farmer and his wife approaching them in a cumbersome wagon. Cassie listened while her escort conducted a brief conversation. The farmer confirmed that they were indeed on the road to Reims, but it was at least another full day’s ride.

‘You are welcome to come back with us,’ offered the farmer’s wife. ‘It is an hour or so back the way you have come, but we can give you and your lady a meal and a bed for the night.’

Cassie froze. The idea of food was enticing, but these people clearly thought that she and this unkempt stranger were, were...

‘Thank you, but, no, we had best press on.’

Raoul Doulevant answered for them both and exchanged a few more friendly words with the farmer before they parted. Cassie felt the hot flush of embarrassment on her cheek and it was all she could do to respond to their cheerful farewell with a nod of acknowledgement.

* * *

‘It is fortunate I refused their hospitality,’ he remarked, misinterpreting her silence. ‘A farmer’s hovel would not suit your ladyship.’

‘You are mistaken,’ she retorted. ‘A bed and a good meal would be very welcome, since I suspect the alternative will be a night spent out of doors. But you were very right to refuse. I would like to get to Reims with all haste.’

‘Certainly. We cannot get there too soon for my liking!’

‘Good. Let us ride through the night, then,’ Cassie suggested, rattled.

They rode and walked by turns until the last of the daylight faded away. Cassie was fighting to stay awake, but nothing would make her admit it. She was the daughter of a marquess, granddaughter of an Arrandale and it was beneath her to show weakness of any sort.

Thick clouds rolled in from the west, obscuring the sky and plunging the world into almost complete darkness. When the bay stumbled for the third time she heard Raoul Doulevant curse softly under his breath.

‘This is sheer foolishness, monsieur,’ she told him. ‘We should stop until the cloud lifts.’

‘That would delay our journey; I was hoping to make a few more miles yet.’

‘If the horse breaks a leg that will delay us even more,’ Cassie pointed out.

When he did not reply she admitted, albeit reluctantly, that she would like to rest. Immediately he drew the horse to a halt and helped Cassie to dismount. Without ceremony he took her arm and guided her and the horse from the near darkness of the road into the blackness of the trees.