Return Of The Runaway. Sarah Mallory

you. I am very grateful.’

      ‘I cannot have my wife dressed in rags. My wife in name only,’ he added quickly. ‘Although after last night we must make sure we demand a truckle bed for the maid.’

      ‘But we do not have a maid.’

      ‘We shall say she is following on and then complain that she has not turned up. At least then I shall have a cot to sleep in.’

      ‘You seem to have thought of everything, monsieur.’

      ‘I spent a damned uncomfortable night considering the matter,’ he retorted. ‘Now, madame, shall we go downstairs and break our fast?’

       Chapter Four

      The lure of a fresh gown was too tempting to resist. Cassandra begged Raoul to wait for her downstairs and twenty minutes later she joined him in the dining room dressed in her new yellow muslin. She saw his eyes widen with appreciation and was woman enough to feel pleased about it. They were alone in the room at that moment and as Raoul held the chair for her Cassie murmured her thanks again.

      ‘The gown fits very well, monsieur, and the maid has promised to have my riding habit brushed and packed by the time we are ready to leave.’

      ‘Good.’ He took his seat opposite and cast an appraising eye over her. ‘The woman in the shop was correct, that colour is perfect for you.’

      Cassie looked up, intrigued. ‘How then did you describe me to her?’

      ‘A petite brunette with the most unusual violet eyes.’

      ‘Oh.’ Cassie blushed. ‘Th-thank you, monsieur.’

      * * *

      Raoul berated himself silently. She thought he was complimenting her, but it had not been his intention. It was true he thought her beautiful, but he did not wish her to know that. Confound it, he did not want to admit the fact to himself. He gave his attention to his breakfast. He had told the truth, nothing more.

      While she was busy pouring herself a cup of coffee he took another quick glance. There was no denying it, she was beautiful. The lemon gown enhanced her creamy skin and set off the dusky curls that she had brushed until they shone. She had pinned up her hair, accentuating the slender column of her throat and her bare shoulders that rose from the low-cut corsage. His pulse leapt and he quickly returned his gaze to his plate. Strange how the sight should affect him. After all, he had seen her shoulders before, and more, when she had been bathing in the lake. But something was different. He looked up again. Yes, there was a thin gold chain around her neck from which was suspended an oval locket set with a single ruby. But it was not the jewel that held his attention, it was the fact that the ornament rested low on her neck, directing the eye to the shadowed valley of her breasts.