Читать книгу Regency Rogues: Rakes' Redemption: Return of the Runaway (The Infamous Arrandales) / The Outcast's Redemption (The Infamous Arrandales) - Sarah Mallory - Страница 12

They quit the cottage soon after dawn and followed the narrow track through the woods that the old woman told them would bring them to the highway a few miles to the west of Reims. They rode and walked by turns as the sun moved higher in the clear blue sky, but although Cassandra was cheerful enough her companion was taciturn, even surly, and after travelling a few miles in silence she taxed him with it. They were walking side by side at that point and Cassie decided it would be easier to ask the question now, rather than when they were on horseback. For some inexplicable reason when she was sitting within the circle of his arms it was difficult to think clearly.

She said now, ‘You have scarce said a dozen civil words to me since we set out, monsieur. Have I offended you in some way?’

‘If you must know I did not sleep well.’

‘Oh.’ Something in his tone sent the blood rushing to her cheeks as Cassie realised that she might have been the cause. She had woken at dawn to find they were still curled up together but even more intimately, his cheek resting against her hair and one of those strong, capable hands cradling her breast. It was such a snug fit she thought they might have been made for one another. A preposterous idea, but at the time it had made her want to smile. Now it only made her blush. He had still been sleeping when she had slipped out of his unconscious embrace and she had said nothing about it, hoping he would not remember, but perhaps he had been more aware of how they had slept together than she had first thought.

Cassie closed her eyes as embarrassment and remorse swept over her like a wave. If eloping with Gerald had dented her reputation, what had happened to her since leaving Verdun was like to smash it completely.

Raoul Doulevant cleared his throat.

‘How long have you been in France, milady?’

He was trying to give her thoughts a different turn and she responded gratefully.

‘Just over a year. Gerald and I travelled to Paris last summer, shortly after we were married. The Treaty of Amiens had opened the borders and we joined the fashionable throng. Then, in May this year, the Peace ended.’

‘Ah, yes.’ He nodded. ‘Bonaparte issued instructions that every Englishman between the ages of sixteen and sixty should be detained.’

‘Yes.’

Cassie fell silent, unwilling to admit that she had already been regretting her hasty marriage. She had stayed and supported her husband, even though he had given her little thanks for it after the first anxious weeks of his detention.

‘But now you return to England without him. I had heard the English in Verdun lived very comfortably.’

‘Only if they have money. Our funds were running very low.’

‘Ah. So now your husband’s fortune has gone you have abandoned him.’

‘No!’ She bit her lip. She should correct him, tell him it was her money they had lived on, that she was now a widow, but the words stuck in her throat. Pride would not let her admit how wrong she had been, how foolish. Instead she said haughtily, ‘You have no right to judge me.’

‘Why, because I am not your equal, my lady?’

‘You are impertinent, monsieur. I had expected better manners from a doctor.’

‘But I have told you I am not a doctor. I am a surgeon.’

‘But clearly not a gentleman!’

A heavy silence followed her words, but she would not take them back. An angry frown descended upon Raoul’s countenance, but he did not speak. Cassie kept pace with him, head high, but his refusal to respond flayed her nerves. She tried telling herself that it was better if they did not talk, that it was safer to keep a distance, yet she found the silence unbearable and after a while she threw a question at him.

‘If you are no deserter, why are you being pursued?’

‘That need not concern you.’

Cassie knew his retort was no more than she deserved, after what she had said to him. Her temper had subsided as quickly as it was roused; she knew it was wise to keep a distance from this man, but that did not mean they had to be at odds.

She tried to make amends by saying contritely, ‘I beg your pardon if my words offended you, monsieur, but you must admit, your appearance, your situation... We shall have a miserable journey if we do not discuss something.’

There, she had apologised, but when he said nothing she glanced at his angry countenance and thought ruefully that his pride was equal to hers. They were not suited as travelling companions. Cassie walked on beside him, resigned to the silence, but presently the strained atmosphere between them changed. The black cloud lifted from his brow and he began to speak.

‘A year ago—about the time that you came to France—I quit the navy and went to Paris to live with my sister Margot. She and her husband had taken me in when I had gone there ten years before to study at the Hôtel-Dieu under the great French surgeon, Desault. Margot was widowed three years ago, so by moving into her house I thought I could support her. Unfortunately last winter she caught the eye of a minor official in Paris, one Valerin. Margo did not welcome his attentions and I told him so. He did not like it.’

‘You were rather rough with him, perhaps,’ she observed sagely.

‘Yes. I came home one night and found him trying to force himself upon Margot. I threw him out of the house and broke his nose into the bargain. That was my mistake. Life became difficult, we were suspected of being enemies of the state, the house was raided several times. It became so bad that a couple of months ago I sent Margot to Brussels. I planned to follow her, once I had wound up my affairs in Paris, but Valerin was too quick for me. He accused me of being a deserter. When I looked for my papers they had gone, taken during one of the house raids, I suppose, and when I applied to the prefect to see the record of my discharge the files were missing.’

‘And could no one vouch for you?’

He shrugged. ‘My old captain, possibly, but he is at sea. A response from him could take months. I thought it best to leave Paris. And just in time. I was still making my preparations when Valerin came with papers for my arrest and I was forced to flee with nothing. He was so intent upon my capture that he sent word to the Paris gates, which is why you find me dressed en paysan and, as you put it, looking like a bear.’

Cassie bit her lip.

‘I should not have said that of you. I am in no position to preach to you now, monsieur.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘I have never been so dirty. What I would give for clean linen!’

‘I fear that will have to wait until we reach Reims, madame.’

They kept to the woodland paths and avoided the main highways. It made the journey longer, but Raoul was anxious to avoid meeting anyone who might ask for their papers. Their only food was some fruit, wine and bread they purchased from a woodsman’s cottage and at noon they stopped on a ridge, sitting on a fallen tree to eat their frugal meal.

‘Is that Reims ahead of us?’ asked Cassie, pointing to the roofs and spires in the distance.

‘It is. We shall be there before dark, milady.’ He sensed her anxiety and added, ‘I shall see you safe to a priest, or a nunnery, madame, before I leave you.’

‘Thank you.’ She sighed. ‘Travelling alone is very perilous for a lady.’

She was trying to make light of it, but he was not deceived. She was frightened, as well she should be. It was no good to tell himself she was not his responsibility, Raoul’s conscience told him otherwise. He made an attempt to stifle it, saying harshly, ‘You should have thought of that before you left your husband.’

He glanced down at her and saw that she was close to tears. The urge to take her in his arms was so great that he clenched his fists and pressed them into his thighs. He searched for something to say.

‘Why did you elope with him?’

One dainty hand fluttered.

‘He was handsome and charming, and he swept me off my feet. Grandmama, who is my guardian, said I was too young, but I thought I knew better. When Gerald suggested we should elope I thought it would be a great adventure. I do not expect you to understand, but life in Bath was very...tame. Oh, there were parties and balls and lots of friends, but it was not enough. I wanted excitement. Gerald offered me that.’

‘No doubt being in an enemy country and detained at Verdun has given you a surfeit of excitement.’

She frowned a little, considering.

‘One would have thought so, but do you know, it was not so very different from Bath. There are so many English people there and they are determined to carry on very much as they always do. There are parties and assemblies, race meetings and gambling dens, everyone finding silly or frivolous entertainments to fill the time. In truth it is a very a foolish way to live. To be perfectly honest, I was bored.’

Raoul watched her. She had clearly forgotten to whom she was talking, there was no reserve as the words poured forth and when she turned her head and smiled up at him, completely natural and unaffected, it shook him to the core. He had the very disturbing sensation of his whole world tilting. The ground beneath him turned to quicksand and it threatened to consume him. It was not that she was trying to attract him, quite the opposite. Her look was trusting and friendly, and it cut through his defences like a sword through paper.

He dragged his eyes away. He needed to repair his defences, to put up the barriers again.

Cassie sucked in a ragged breath, unsure what had just happened to her. In telling Raoul about her elopement she had opened her soul to him in a way she had never done with anyone before. Even when she had thought herself hopelessly in love with Gerald she had never felt such a connection as she did with this dark stranger. It frightened her.

He rose, saying gruffly, ‘We should go, we still have several hours travelling to reach Reims.’

Cassie nodded and followed him towards the horse. His voice was perfectly composed. He had not commented, displayed no emotion at what she had told him. No doubt he thought her an idle, frivolous woman, worthy only of contempt. When he sprang into the saddle and put his hand out to her she glanced up at his face, an anxious frown creasing her brow.

‘No doubt you think me a silly creature. Contemptible.’

The black eyes gave nothing away.

‘What I think of you is unimportant,’ he said shortly. ‘Come, let us press on.’

The afternoon grew warmer as they made their way towards Reims and the bay’s walking pace slowed to an amble. The city was lost to sight as they descended into a wooded valley where the air was warm and filled with the trill of birdsong. It was enchanting, reminding Cassie of hot summer days in England, but much as she wanted to share her thoughts with her companion she held back, knowing she must keep a proper distance. She had already told him far too much and feared she had earned his disapproval. Her spirit flared in momentary rebellion. Well, let him disapprove, it did not matter to her in the least.

When at last they dismounted she was thankful that the rough path was wide enough to walk with the horse between them. There must be no accidental brushing of the hands and heaven forbid that he should be gentleman enough to offer her his arm, for she would have to refuse and that might give rise to offence. How difficult it was to maintain propriety in this wilderness! The heat in the valley was oppressive and the sun beat down upon her bare head. She sighed, regretting the loss of her bonnet.

‘Are you tired, milady?’

‘No, merely hot and a little uncomfortable.’ She unfastened the neck button of her shirt. Even that was an indiscretion, she knew, but a very minor one, considering her situation.

‘Would you like to rest in the shade for a while?’

‘Thank you, but I would prefer to keep going and reach Reims. Perhaps there we can find some clean clothes.’ She could not help adding, ‘For both of us.’

His breath hissed out. ‘Does my dirty raiment offend you, milady?’

‘No more than my own,’ she replied honestly. ‘We are both in need of a good bath. I suppose it cannot be helped when one is travelling.’

He came to a halt.

‘An answer may be at hand,’ he said. ‘Listen.’

‘What is it? I cannot—’

But he was already pushing his way through the thick bushes. Cassie followed and soon heard the sound of rushing water. It grew louder, but they had gone some way from the path before they reached the source of the noise. Cassie gave a little gasp of pure pleasure.

They were on the edge of a natural pool. It was fed by a stream tumbling down the steep cliff on the far side and the midday sun glinted on the falling water, turning the spray into a glistening rainbow.

‘Oh, how beautiful!’

‘Not only beautiful, milady, but convenient. We can bathe here.’

‘What? Oh, no, I mean—’

Cassie broke off, but her blushes only deepened when Raoul gave her a scornful look.

‘You have warm air and clean water here, madame, I cannot conjure an army of servants for you, too. I am going to make the most of what nature has given us. I suggest you do, too.’

He tethered the horse and began to strip off his clothes, throwing his shirt into the pool to wash it. Cassie knelt on the bank and dipped her hands into the water. It was crystal clear and deliciously cool against her skin. From the corner of her eye she saw that Raoul had now discarded all his clothes. She looked away quickly, but not before she had noted the lean athletic body. How wrong she had been to describe him as a bear, she thought distractedly. There was only a shadowing of hair on his limbs with a thicker covering on his chest, like a shield that tapered down towards...

Oh, heavens! She must not even think of that.

She heard the splash as he dived into the pool and only then did she risk looking up again. Raoul was a strong swimmer, sending diamond droplets flying up as he surged through the water and away from her. For a moment she envied him his freedom before berating herself as a ninny. He had said she should make use of what he had termed nature’s gift and she would. The pool was large enough to keep out of each other’s way. There were several large bushes at the edge of the water and she moved behind one of them to divest herself of her riding habit. She shook out the jacket and the full skirts and draped them over the bush where they could air in the sunshine, then she followed Raoul’s example and tossed her shirt into the water. Once she had removed her corset she did the same with her shift, then she knelt at the side of the pool and washed the fine garments as best she could before wringing them out and hanging them over another convenient shrub. The sun was so high and strong she thought they would both be quite dry by the time she had bathed herself.

The pool was shallower in the secluded spot she had chosen and the cold on her hot skin made her gasp as she stepped in. Cautiously she walked away from the bank until the water was just over waist deep and she lowered herself until only her head was above the surface. Now her body was submerged she felt more comfortable. She moved into slightly deeper water and closed her eyes, feeling the heat of the sun on her face. Her body felt weightless, rocking with the gentle movement of the water, cleansing, relaxing.

‘There, do you not feel better?’

Cassie gave a little scream. Raoul was only feet away from her, his wet hair plastered to his head and his eyes gleaming with laughter.

‘G-go away, if you please,’ Cassie ordered him, praying the sun glinting on the surface of the water would prevent him from seeing her naked body. ‘Pray, go and wash your clothes, sir, and let me be private.’

‘I came to tell you I have been standing beneath the waterfall,’ he said, ignoring her request. ‘It is refreshing, I think you will like it.’

‘No, thank you.’

‘Why not? I will stay here, if you wish to be alone.’

‘I want to be alone here,’ she said, trying to keep her voice calm. The amusement in his eyes deepened and she glared at him. ‘Go away. I wish to dress. Now.’

‘But your linen cannot be dry yet.’

‘That is my concern, not yours.’

‘It is not far to swim across to the waterfall. You would feel better for the exercise.’

‘Most definitely I should not.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘You cannot swim.’ When she did not reply he reached out to her. ‘Let me teach you.’

‘No!’ The word came out as a squeak. ‘You c-cannot teach me.’

‘It is very easy.’

She shook her head, backing away a little, towards the bank, but having to crouch down in the shallower water.

There was a splash as he pushed himself upright.

‘Look, it is not so very deep, you could walk across, if you wished.’

Cassie was looking. Her eyes were fixed on those broad shoulders and that muscled chest glistening in the sunlight. Thankfully the rest of his body was still submerged.

‘Come.’ He held his hand out to her. ‘I want you to stand beneath the waterfall and tell me if it is not the most invigorating sensation you have ever experienced.’

It was madness. She should dress immediately, but a glance at the bank showed her that her shirt and her shift were still too damp to wear. She could sit here in the shallows while the sun baked the skin on her face to the colour of a biscuit or she could go with Raoul into the shade beneath the waterfall.

No, it was not to be contemplated, but already her hand was going out to his and she was edging out of the shallows. As the water came up over her shoulders she felt its power rocking her off her feet. Raoul’s grip tightened.

‘Do not worry,’ he said. ‘I will hold you.’

It surprised Cassie just how safe she felt with her hand held so firmly in his warm grasp.

‘Did you learn to swim in the navy?’ she asked in an effort not to think about his naked body, just an arm’s reach away from her own.

‘No. My father taught me.’

‘I would imagine it is a useful accomplishment for a ship’s surgeon.’

‘It is not difficult, you should try it. Even dogs can swim.’

‘I am not a dog, monsieur!’

‘No, I can see that.’

Cassie set her lips firmly together and suppressed an angry retort. If it wasn’t for the fact that they had reached the middle of the pool and the water was so deep that she was forced to stand on tiptoe, she might have moved away, but she needed his support. She maintained a stern silence and kept him at arm’s length as they moved forward. Cassie was also leaning away from her partner and she was reminded of seeing Grandmama performing a stately minuet. The thought made her want to giggle and she wondered what the marchioness would think if she could see her granddaughter now, naked as a babe and in the company of a strange man.

Raoul was guiding her to one side of the waterfall, where there was a gap between the sheer cliff and the falling water. Soon she began to feel the spray on her face, a fine mist that cooled her heated skin, but she did not have much chance to enjoy it, for an incautious step found nothing but water beneath her foot and she plunged beneath the surface. Panic engulfed Cassie before Raoul’s strong arms caught her up.

‘It’s all right, you are safe now, I have you.’

She grabbed his shoulders, coughing, and as he pulled her close her legs came up and wrapped themselves about his waist.

‘My apologies, milady,’ he muttered, his voice unsteady. ‘I had not noticed that the pool floor was so uneven here. I will carry you the rest of the way.’

She clung on, no longer concerned that they were naked, all that mattered was that she was safe in his arms. Her face was hidden against his neck, the salty taste of his skin was on her mouth. Whenever she breathed in she was aware of the faint musky scent of him. The sound of rushing water was loud and constant, but she could also hear Raoul’s ragged breathing and felt his heart hammering against her breast as he moved slowly, step by step, through the water. At last he stopped.

‘You can stand down now, madame. It is not so deep. Trust me.’

Trust him? She had no choice. It had been sheer madness to come so far from the bank, to put herself at the mercy of a man she did not know. She swallowed. How could she claim not to know Raoul Doulevant, when their naked bodies had been entwined so intimately? Even now his hands were moving to her waist, supporting her, giving her confidence. Keeping her head buried against him, Cassie unwrapped her legs from his body. Gingerly she reached down to find firm, smooth rock beneath her feet. She stepped away from Raoul, but could not bring herself to release his hand as she gazed around. It was much darker here and she looked up to see that they were standing behind a curtain of water that cast a greenish hue over everything. Without the sun to warm her, Cassie realised that the parts of her body above the water were tensed against the cold. She glanced down, noting with relief that her hair was hanging down and concealing her breasts, then thought wryly that it was a little late for modesty, when moments ago she had been clinging like ivy to her companion. She glanced towards him and gave a little laugh of surprise.

‘Your skin looks green!’

Raoul glanced at her.

‘And you look like a mermaid.’

‘Oh? You have seen one of those mythical creatures, I suppose.’

He grinned. ‘Hundreds.’

She was laughing up at him. Raoul was inordinately pleased that she shared his delight in this place and it was the most natural thing in the world to lean a little closer and kiss her. He felt a tremor run through her, felt her body yield a little before she regained control and backed away from him, eyes wide and dark. She released his hand, clearly preferring to run the risk of drowning rather than touch him.

‘We, we should go back now, monsieur.’

She would not meet his eyes and Raoul silently cursed himself. What was he about, consorting with this woman? He could not resist flirting with her, but she was not for him. Yet his body told him differently, it had known it from the first time he had pulled her into his arms and ridden away with her. Now it remembered every step he had taken with her in his arms, every moment of her warm flesh pressed against his, arousing him and sending the hot blood pounding through his veins and making him dizzy. Enough of such madness. He did not want her naked body in his arms again, she was too tempting. The instant and powerful arousal when she had flung her legs about him had almost toppled them both beneath the water. Yet she had felt as fragile as a bird when he held her close, her heart beating erratically against his chest, rousing in him a protectiveness that he really did not wish to feel for any Englishwoman. He must get them both back to the far bank without further embarrassing the lady. He set his jaw. That would not be easy when her naked form was so temptingly close. The apprehension in her face told him that she, too, was wondering how they would get back.

He turned away from her.

‘Put your hands on my shoulders and let your body float up behind you. If you relax you will find it easier.’

Obediently she placed her hands on his shoulders. Briefly he covered her fingers with his own.

‘Hold tight now.’

Cassie was gripping as tightly as she could, feeling the knotted muscle moving beneath her hands as he used his arms to help pull them through the water. Her body was still vibrating from his kiss, her blood felt hot and she wondered what would have happened if they had not been standing up to their shoulders in the cold water. She thought it might then have been much more difficult to pull away from him, to remember the dangers of her situation. Even now she was not safe; she could not make it back across the pool without his help. She knew she must keep her body away from that broad back and not pull herself close and allow her breasts to rest against him, which was what some wild and wanton part of her wanted to do. She kept her body straight, pushing her legs up towards the surface of the water and keeping her eyes fixed on the tendrils of dark hair curling at the nape of Raoul’s neck. At first it took all her energy to concentrate, but gradually she managed to relax a little and discovered it required less effort. She was floating out behind him and where her back broke the surface she could feel the heat of the sun on her skin. Her grip on Raoul’s strong shoulders eased, she tried a few tentative kicks with her legs and heard a chuckle.

‘A few more trips across the pool and I think you might be swimming, milady.’

Quite unaccountably, his words pleased her, but she managed not to give herself away when she responded. ‘No, I thank you.’ They had almost reached the bank and her feet sank to the pool’s floor. ‘I can manage from here. If you will leave me I will dress myself.’

‘Are you sure you would not like me to help you with your corset?’

She gritted her teeth. Really, he was quite infuriating.

‘I will manage,’ she told him. ‘Pray, go and dress yourself, monsieur. Over there, out of my sight.’

Grinning, Raoul swam away. Milady was back, as haughty and commanding as ever, but when he had climbed out of the water and was pulling on his shirt he heard a faint but unmistakable sound coming from the other side of those concealing bushes. Lady Cassandra was singing.

When at last she emerged from the bushes she was fully dressed and she had removed the pins from her hair, letting the thick, dark tresses spread around her shoulders while they dried. She looked better, he thought. Less tired and her eyes were brighter. She looked beautiful. A sudden, exultant trill of birdsong filled the air, like a fanfare for the lady.

Scowling, Raoul turned away and busied himself checking the girth on the saddle. This was no time for such fanciful ideas. Resolutely he kept his eyes from her until he was mounted on the horse.

‘Well, madame, shall we continue?’

He put out his hand. She sprang nimbly up, but from the way she held herself, tense and stiff before him, he knew that she, too, was trying to avoid touching him more than necessary.

Raoul pushed the bay to a canter and they covered the rest of the journey to Reims in good time. The sun was low in the sky when they reached the main highway and dismounted for a final time to rest the horse before they rode into the city. They had hardly spoken since leaving the pool, both caught up in their own thoughts, but as he waited for her to pin up her hair again he noted the frown creasing her brow.

‘What is in your mind, madame?’

‘How far is it from Reims to Le Havre?’

He shrugged. ‘Three days, perhaps, to Rouen, then another two to Le Havre. Or you may be in luck and find a ship in Rouen that will take you to the coast. You might even find one to take you all the way to England.’

‘But France is at war with England, will that not make it more difficult?’

Raoul shrugged. ‘Difficult, but not impossible, if you have money.’

Le Havre could be bustling with troops. Dangerous enough for him, but a pretty young woman, travelling alone, would have to be very careful. He glanced at her. She had finished pinning up her hair, but even so she looked remarkably youthful. An unscrupulous man might take advantage of her. He might steal her money, thought Raoul. Or worse. He remembered when he had first seen her, about to be attacked by the courier and his accomplice. She had been prepared to fight, but without his help she might not escape so lightly next time.

‘If you will help me to reach the coast and find a ship to take me home, I will pay you.’

The words came out in a rush and she fell silent after, keeping her eyes fixed on the distant horizon as if afraid to look at him.

Why not? Raoul asked himself. Because she is English and an aristocrat. Everything you despise. Everything you have cause to hate.

He glanced at the lady, noticed how tightly her hands were clasped together as she waited for his answer. She was also a woman and for all her bravado she was vulnerable and alone and it was not in his nature to turn his back on a defenceless creature.

He would prefer to travel to Brussels, but he had to admit that without money to pay his way any journey would be difficult. And once they reached a port he might well be able to find a ship to take him north along the coast.

‘How much?’

She shook her head.

‘I cannot say. I will pay for a carriage from Reims and our lodgings on the way and after that I need to find a ship to carry me home. I do not know how much all that will cost. However, if you will trust me, I will give you whatever I can spare, once I have booked my passage to England.’

Well, whichever way he went there was danger, but Raoul could not deny that the going would be easier if he had money.

‘Very well,’ he said. ‘I will help you.’

She smiled, visibly relieved.

‘Good.’ She put out her hand. ‘In England our tradesmen shake hands on a bargain. We will do the same, if you please.’

His brows went up, but after a brief hesitation he took her hand. Once they had shaken solemnly he did not let go, but carried her hand to his lips.

‘Now I consider our bargain sealed, milady.’

He might have been holding a wild bird, the way her fingers fluttered within his grasp. Desire reared up again and he wanted to pull her into his arms. A shadow of alarm crossed her face. Had she read his mind? Perhaps she, too, was recalling that moment in the pool when she had wrapped herself about him, their warm bodies melding together in the cold water. Had she felt that tug of attraction?

‘Yes, very well.’ She pulled her hand free and turned away from him, saying briskly, ‘If we are going to travel together, then the first thing is to find you a decent set of clothes, and a razor. You are a disgrace. I cannot have my servant dressed in rags.’

His lip curled. There was his answer. That was what she thought of him.

‘So, madame, I am to be your servant?’

The look she gave him would have frozen the sun.

‘Of course. I am the daughter of a marquess and—’

He broke in angrily. ‘I do not acknowledge that your birth gives you superiority over me.’

Cassie had been about to confess that it would not be easy for her to imitate the behaviour of a servant. She had intended it to be self-deprecating, but his retort sent all such thoughts flying and she responded with icy hauteur.

‘I shall be paying you for your services, monsieur, since I have money and you do not.’

She was immediately ashamed of her response. It was ill bred, but his bitter interruption, the assumption that she was so full of conceit as to think herself superior, had angered her. Yet that in itself was wrong. What was it about this man that put her usual sunny nature to flight so easily? She was still pondering the problem when he jumped to his feet.

‘Well, now we have settled our roles in this little charade we should be on our way.’

He held out his hand to her, his face unsmiling, his eyes black and cold. As he pulled her to her feet Cassie bit back the urge to say something conciliatory.

This is how it should be. You do not want to become too close to this man.

He would help her reach England, she would pay him. It was a business arrangement, nothing more.

When they reached the city gates the road was so crowded and bustling with traders and carriages they were able to slip through without being questioned. The savoury aroma of food emanating from a busy tavern tempted them to stop and dine.

‘What do we do now?’ asked Cassie, when they had finished their meal and were once more on the street, Raoul leading their tired horse. ‘My preference is to find a respectable inn, like the one ahead of us, but...’ she paused and, recalling their recent altercation, she chose her next words carefully ‘...I fear our appearance would cause comment.’

Raoul rubbed his chin. ‘Yours may be explained by an accident to the carriage, but I agree my clothes are not suitable for a manservant. I have a plan, but I will need money, milady.’

Her eyes narrowed. ‘What do you intend?’

‘You will go ahead of me, tell them your servant follows. I will find new clothes and join you in an hour.’

Cassie dug a handful of coins from her purse and gave them to him, then she watched him walk away. There was a tiny frisson of anxiety at the thought that he might not return.

‘Well if he does not come back there is nothing I can do about it,’ she told herself as she turned her own steps towards the inn.

Despite her own dishevelled appearance Cassie’s assured manner and generous advance payment secured rooms without difficulty. She requested a jug of hot water and set about repairing the ravages to her hair and her dress. She was only partly successful, but once she had washed her face and hands and re-dressed her hair she felt much more presentable. A servant came in to light the candles and Cassie realised with a start that darkness was falling outside now. Where was Raoul?

She sat down on a chair and folded her hands in her lap, willing herself to be calm. If he had taken the money and gone on his way she could hardly blame him, but she could not help feeling a little betrayed and also very slightly frightened at the thought of being alone.

Her ears caught the thud of quick steps on the stairs and she rose, looking expectantly towards the door, only to stare open-mouthed as a stranger entered the room.

Gone was the rough beard and shaggy, unkempt hair. Gone, too, were the ragged clothes. In fact, the only things about Raoul Doulevant that she recognised were his dark eyes, alight with laughter.

He was, she realised with a shock, devastatingly handsome. His black hair had been cut and brushed back from his brow. His cheeks, free of the heavy black beard, were lean and smooth above the firm jaw. His lips were so finely sculpted that Cassie felt a sensuous shiver run through her just looking at them. He stood tall and straight in a coat of dark-blue wool that stretched over powerful shoulders. The white linen at his throat and wrists accentuated the deep tan of his skin, while his long legs were encased in buckskins and top boots that showed his athletic limbs to advantage. To complete the ensemble he held a pair of tan gloves and a tall hat in hands. He flourished a deep bow and Cassie swallowed, unable to take her eyes off him. The laughter in his eyes deepened.

‘Well, milady, do I have your approval?’

‘Very much so.’ Her voice was nothing more than a croak and she coughed, hoping to clear whatever was blocking her throat. ‘Where did you find such elegant clothes in this little town?’

He grinned. ‘There are ways.’

It was all he would say and she did not press him. On closer inspection it was seen that the coat and breeches were not new and although the boots were highly polished they bore signs of wear. However, Raoul Doulevant presented the picture of a very respectable gentleman and Cassie glanced ruefully at her own clothes.

‘I fear the servant is now more grand than the mistress.’

‘That is a concern,’ agreed Raoul, coming further into the room. ‘When I arrived the landlord took me for your husband.’

‘Oh, heavens.’ She put a hand to her cheek, distracted by memories of standing with him beneath the waterfall. Suddenly her mind was filled with wild thoughts of what it might be like to be married to such a man. She closed her eyes for a moment. It would be disastrous. She had rushed into a marriage once and had suffered the consequences. Falling out of love had been almost too painful to bear. She would not go through that again.

‘Our host appears to be in some confusion over our name, too,’ Raoul continued, unaware of her agitation. ‘I told him we are Madame and Monsieur Duval.’ Her eyes flew open as he continued. ‘I believe, upon reflection, that it would be best if we travel as man and wife.’ He put up his hand to silence her protest. ‘I considered saying we were brother and sister, but although your French is enchanting, milady, you do not speak it like a native.’

‘No, but—’

‘And it would be impossible to pass you off as my servant, you are far too arrogant.’

‘I am not arrogant!’

He continued as if she had not spoken.

‘No, it must be as man and wife. It is settled.’

Cassie took a long and indignant breath, preparing to make a withering retort but he caught her eye and said with quiet deliberation, ‘You asked for my help, milady.’

There was steel in his voice and she knew it would be dangerous to cross him. She doubted he had ever intended to travel as her servant. Well, she had a choice—she could dispense with his escort, and thus break the bargain they had struck, or she could go along with his plan. The infuriating thing was she could not think of a better one.

‘Man and wife in name only,’ she told him imperiously.

‘Even after the...er...intimacies we shared in that shady pool?’

The laughter was back in his eyes, although his voice was perfectly serious. Cassie fought down her temper. He was teasing her, he enjoyed teasing her.

‘We shared nothing but being in the same water,’ was her crushing reply. ‘It was a mistake and will not be repeated.’

‘No, milady.’

‘It should be easy enough to keep a safe distance between us. It is not as if we are in love, after all.’

‘Indeed not.’

‘And in my opinion,’ she continued airily, ‘love is an emotion that is best left to poets and artists. Its importance in real life is grossly exaggerated.’

‘Truly? You believe that?’

He folded his arms and regarded her with amusement. Really, she thought angrily, he was much more at home in these new clothes. He was so assured. So arrogant!

Even as she fumed with indignation he said, grinning, ‘Explain yourself, milady, if you please.’

Very well, she would tell him. Cassie had had plenty of time to ponder on this over the past year. She waved her hand.

‘What passes for love is mere lust on the man’s part. It makes him profess feelings he does not truly feel and engenders a false affection that can never last.’ He was still grinning at her. Cassie said bluntly, ‘Let us say that the man is led by what is in his breeches, not his heart. And for the woman, why, it is nothing more than a foolish infatuation that fades quickly once she becomes better acquainted with her swain. Marital bliss and heavenly unions are not to be had by mere mortals. I am right,’ she insisted, when he had the audacity to laugh at her. ‘I have been—am married, after all. I know what goes on between a man and a woman. It is not as special as the poets would have us believe.’

‘If you think that, milady, it occurs to me that your husband is not an expert lover.’

Her brows rose. ‘And you are, perhaps?’

‘I have had no complaints.’

She met his dark, laughing eyes and for one panic-stricken moment she feared he meant to offer a demonstration of his prowess. She said hastily, ‘This is a most improper discussion. Let us say no more about it.’

‘Very well. But I fear my next news will not please you. Our host sends a thousand pardons to milady, but the servant’s room is not available.’ He patted his pocket. ‘He has refunded your payment for it.’

Cassie’s eyes narrowed and, as if reading her mind Raoul put up his hands.

‘This is no plan of mine, I assure you. The prefect has bespoke the room for a visitor and the landlord dare not refuse him. We must think ourselves fortunate he did not throw us out on the streets.’

Cassie was in no mood to consider anything but the fact that she must now share a room with this insufferable man. She dragged two of the blankets from the bed and handed them to him.

‘Then you will sleep on the floor!’

With that she threw a couple of pillows on to the chair, climbed up on the bed and pulled the curtains shut around her.

Cassie sat in the dark, straining her ears for every sound from the room. She was half-afraid Raoul might tear open the curtains and demand to share the bed. She remained fully dressed and tense, listening to him moving about the room, and it was not until she heard the steady sound of his breathing that she finally struggled out of her riding habit and slipped beneath the covers.

Raoul scowled at the blankets in his hand. By the saints, how would he make himself comfortable with these? But honesty compelled him to admit it was no more than he deserved. It was his teasing that had angered her, but for the life of him he could not help it. He had seen the flash in her eyes when he walked in. It had been a look of admiration, nay, attraction, and it had set his pulse racing. He had been determined to treat her as an employer, to convey the landlord’s news dispassionately and then they might have discussed the sleeping arrangements like two sensible adults. Instead he had given in to the temptation to bring that sparkle back to her eyes. He grinned at the memory. Even now part of him could not regret it, she looked magnificent when she was roused, a mixture of arrogance and innocence that was irresistible. With a sigh be began to spread the blankets on the floor. And these was his deserts. Well, he would make the most of it. He had slept in worse places.

Cassie had no idea of the time when she woke, until she peeped out through the curtains to find the sun streaming into the bedchamber. Cautiously she pushed back the hangings. The room was empty, the blankets and pillows on the floor showing her where Raoul had slept, but there was no sign of the man himself. Cassie slipped off the bed and dressed quickly, but a strange emptiness filled her as she wondered if Raoul had left for good. Perhaps, when he had realised she would not succumb to his advances he had decided to go his own way. The thought was strangely depressing and she could not prevent hope leaping in her breast when she heard someone outside the door, nor could she stop her smile of relief when Raoul strode into the room, a couple of large packages beneath one arm and a rather battered bandbox dangling from his hand. His brows rose when he saw her.

‘I hardly expected such a warm welcome, milady.’

‘I thought you had gone,’ she confessed.

‘And break our bargain? I am not such a rogue.’ He handed her the parcels. ‘I had a little money left from yesterday, plus the reimbursement from the landlord, and I decided to see if I could find something suitable to augment your wardrobe. There is also a trunk following; to travel without baggage is to invite curiosity, is it not?’

She barely acknowledged his last words, for she was busy opening the first of the packages. It contained a selection of items for Cassie’s comfort including a brush and comb and a new chemise. The second was a round gown of yellow muslin with a matching shawl.

‘Oh,’ she said, holding up the gown. ‘Th-thank you.’

‘I had to guess your size, but it is fastened by tapes and should fit you. And there is this.’ He put the bandbox on the table and lifted out a straw bonnet. ‘The fine weather looks set to continue and I thought this might be suitable.’

‘Oh,’ she said again. ‘I—thank 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?’