Название | Return Of The Runaway |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Sarah Mallory |
Жанр | Исторические любовные романы |
Серия | |
Издательство | Исторические любовные романы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781474042260 |
‘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