Return of the Runaway Page 16

  ‘Tiens, what is this!’

  He crossed the room in a couple of strides, but Cassie had already jumped up and turned her back on him. She wiped her fingers across her cheeks.

  ‘I did not hear you come in.’

  He reached out, but his hand stopped just inches from her.

  He said gently, ‘What is it, chérie, why are you weeping?’

  ‘I am not weeping. I abhor such weakness.’

  She would have walked away, but he put his hands on her shoulders.

  ‘Of course you do.’ He turned her towards him and pulled her closer. ‘You are far too sensible for such a thing.’

  Her resistance was half-hearted. When he would not let go she leaned against him, burying her face in his coat.

  ‘I am t-tired, that is all.’

  Her voice caught on a sob and his arms slid around, binding her to him. He rested his cheek on her hair and closed his eyes. They had been travelling for days and yet still there clung about her a faint summer fragrance. The subtle, elusive quality of it undermined his resolve to keep her at a distance. He raised his head and put two fingers beneath her chin.

  ‘Cassandra, chérie—’

  * * *

  She called up every ounce of willpower to push herself out of his arms, reminding herself that the pain would be even worse if she allowed herself to succumb to this man’s attraction, even for a moment.

  ‘I do not want you to k-kiss me,’ she lied, taking a few steps away from him and averting her face. ‘I have told you I have no time for that, or your soft words. They bring nothing but pain.’ Yes, that was better. She must remember that all men were deceivers. Had she not had proof enough of that in Verdun? She added, ‘I know now that there is no joy to be found in any man’s arms.’

  ‘Ah, my dear, if we had time I would show you that is not true. But soon you will be back in England.’

  ‘Yes.’ She wrapped her arms around herself. Scant comfort after being held in Raoul’s embrace, but the greater the joy now, the greater the pain to follow, so it would have to suffice. Now and for ever. ‘And you, I hope, will have your captain’s testimonial and be free to return to your home.’

  There was silence, as if they were both considering the future. It was as much as Raoul could do not to let out the howl of anguish that filled his soul. He watched Cassandra put her hands by her sides and straighten her shoulders, as though she was mustering all her strength. She picked up one of the branched candlesticks from the mantelpiece and held it out to him. ‘You will need this to light you to bed. Goodnight, monsieur.’

  Raoul did not move. She stood before him, head high, every inch a haughty aristo, but the hand holding the candles was not quite steady. Perhaps it was the wavering flames that made the air shimmer around them, but he could feel the tension, too, so great it was almost visible, yet even so he was aware that their whole future was balanced on a knife’s edge. One false move, one unwise word and he would knock the candles aside and drag her into his arms.

  He would kiss her until she succumbed to the passion he knew she possessed. It was simmering just beneath the surface. The temptation was almost overpowering. He wanted to hold her again, to taste her, to have her body soft and yielding beneath his. Just once. But the consequences of that would be too great. He might walk away afterwards and immerse himself in his work, but what if he were to send Cassie back to England carrying his child?

  Slowly and with infinite care he reached out and took the candlestick, making sure their fingers did not touch.

  ‘Goodnight, milady.’

  Just uttering those two words had been agony. Raoul turned and walked out of the room, every step an effort, his body stiff and burning with desire.

  * * *

  ‘Good morning, monsieur.’

  Cassie greeted Raoul with cheerful politeness, determined that he should not guess the miserable night she had spent tossing and turning in her bed. Her dreams had been troubled by memories of her husband’s infidelity. Even his death had been a betrayal, a duel fought over another woman, and Cassie awoke several times in the night, feeling wounded and defenceless, afraid to trust anyone. The dawn had brought resolution and she had fixed her mind on her return to England. Raoul Doulevant must be kept at a distance. He was a paid escort, nothing more, and must be treated as such.

  While they breakfasted on hot, fresh bread washed down by scalding coffee they discussed their plans for the day. Raoul told her his first task was to ascertain if the Prométhée had docked.

  ‘I think I shall do a little shopping,’ she responded, keeping her tone light, as if she was discussing a trip to Bond Street. ‘I would like to find a bonnet and veil.’

  ‘You could ask the landlady to direct you,’ Raoul suggested. ‘I have already given them to understand that your maid and the rascally postilion have absconded with our baggage coach, so she would not be surprised at the question.’

  * * *

  Cassandra’s errand was soon complete. She made her way to the shop recommended by the landlady, where the milliner commiserated with her upon the loss of her bags and was only too happy for her to make use of the mirror to fix the neat little bonnet over her dusky curls and arrange the veil. She also purchased a new reticule to complete the outfit. Thus attired, Cassie sallied forth and spent a pleasant hour or two browsing the shops and market stalls. Her purse was growing woefully thin. There was barely enough in it now to pay her way on the long journey home. However, when she came upon a stall selling a miscellany of goods she stopped. The stallholder hailed her with bluff good humour.

  ‘Ah, madame, with what can I tempt you this bright morning? A pretty looking glass for your wall, or this fine bracket clock from the Netherlands? Or perhaps this sable-lined cloak, fit for a duchess. Everything was acquired honestly, madame,’ he assured her, grinning. ‘These days there are many who are only too glad to part with their possessions. After all, what good are such things if one cannot afford to eat?’

  Cassie pointed to the large, leather-covered box that had caught her eye. ‘That case—’

  ‘This one? Why, ’tis is an old surgeon’s set, madame. You see, it still contains the tools of his trade. It is a little worn, but it would make a fine addition to your baggage. As a dressing case, perhaps.’ He added quickly, sensing a sale. ‘I could remove the instruments—’

  ‘No, no it is for a medical man.’ She stared at the case. ‘Where did you get it?’

  ‘Where? It was amongst the goods sold by a bankrupt to pay his debts, madame.’

  ‘And how much do you want for it?’

  A sly look came into the man’s eyes.

  ‘Ah, now, here’s the thing,’ he said. ‘I thought perhaps I might take it to the hospital in Rouen. There are many doctors and surgeons there who would pay me a good price for such a set...’

  Cassie unfastened the chain about her neck.

  ‘I will trade you the case and its contents for this chain and locket.’ She held it out to him. ‘It is solid gold and that is a real ruby embedded in the locket. It will fetch you a very good price.’

  The man studied the locket, weighed it in his hand before shaking his head.

  ‘Nay, madame, the surgeon’s set is worth twice what this would fetch.’

  Cassie was not accustomed to bargaining, but she had a stubborn streak and she was determined to put up a fight for the leather case. She held out her hand.

  ‘I doubt that, but it is your choice,’ she said indifferently. ‘I will keep my trinket, then, if you would prefer a long and dusty ride to Rouen—’

  As Cassie reached for the locket the stallholder closed his fingers over it.

  ‘As you say, it is a long way to Rouen, whereas this pretty bauble I could sell much more easily.’ He gave a gusty sigh. ‘It is a great bargain for you, madame, and I s
hall most likely make a loss on this deal at the end of the day. But I will let you have the case in exchange for your locket and chain.’

  It was done. Cassandra reached out to close the lid upon the gruesome-looking instruments and to lift the case off the stall while the stallholder was busy inspecting his new possession. He prised open the locket.

  ‘A moment, madame. Who is this handsome gentleman portrayed inside?’

  ‘My husband,’ she said quietly. ‘He is dead.’

  ‘Ah, a thousand regrets! You are desolated to part with his likeness, no? But it need not be,’ he said, holding the locket closer to his eyes. ‘It is painted on ivory and it is a little loose...’ She watched him take out a small knife and ease the miniature from its mount. ‘There, madame, you may have your husband back again. It shows you that I have a great heart, have I not?’

  ‘Thank you.’ Cassie slipped the little painting into her reticule. It was the last thing she had bought with her pin money before she and Gerald ran off together. It would remind her that she had thought herself in love with him and had been mistaken. Perhaps it would also help her avoid making the same mistake again.

  * * *

  In the privacy of the inn she inspected her purchase. The corners of the leather case were worn, but the instruments, although dull, looked to be in good condition and similar to the ones she had seen Raoul use at Flagey. Would he appreciate the gesture, or would he think her foolish? After all, what did she know of his profession? These instruments might be of poor quality. Not only would he think her foolish, he might be offended. The sound of his now-familiar step on the stair made her heart race. She would soon know.

  Chapter Nine

  When Raoul entered the room to find Cassie was waiting for him his spirits rose and the day seemed a little brighter. He noted immediately the new bonnet and the heavy veil which she had put back so that the black lace fell like a mantle over her shoulders. He thought how well she looked, a faint flush on her cheeks and a shy, tentative smile trembling on her lips.

  ‘How was your morning?’ she asked him, by way of greeting.

  He stripped off his gloves and threw them on to a chair.

  ‘There is news. The Prométhée was coming into the harbour even as I reached the quay. I did not wait. Captain Belfort will be busy for hours yet so I will go back later, after we have dined.’ The delay was frustrating, but he had waited so long that he could be patient a little longer. He smiled at her. ‘You have your hat and veil, I see. Very fetching.’

  ‘I bought something else,’ she said, waving towards the table. ‘Something for you.’

  For the first time Raoul saw the battered case upon the dining table.

  ‘You bought this for me?’

  He walked to the table while Cassie rushed to explain.

  ‘I saw it in the market and thought you might be able to use it, since you left all your own instruments in Paris. I have no idea if these are the right tools for you, or if indeed they are any good, but I thought, I hoped they might suffice until you could find yourself a new set...’

  Her words trailed off but Raoul barely noticed, he was too engrossed in assessing the familiar instruments. The contents were almost complete. No drugs or opiates, of course, that was too much to expect, but everything else was there: a few dressings and bandages, various types of knives and forceps, a bullet probe, even an amputation saw. The finish was dulled, but Raoul could see that they were all made from the finest cast steel.

  ‘The stallholder assured me they were legally acquired. He said they were from the sale of a bankrupt’s effects.’

  ‘Indeed?’ Raoul murmured. ‘One man’s misfortune is another’s gain, then.’ He looked at her, frowning. ‘But this must have cost you something. Have you spent your passage money?’

  ‘No, of course not.’

  ‘Then how did you pay for it?’ When she did not reply immediately his imagination rioted as he considered what possible folly she might have committed. He said brusquely, ‘The truth, milady, if you please.’

  ‘I exchanged my locket for it.’

  Raoul regarded her in silence as more wild thoughts chased around in his head. She had little enough money for her journey, so why had she sold her last item of jewellery to buy this for him?

  ‘But it contained the picture of your husband.’

  ‘The stallholder prised that out. I have it safe. Not that I really want it,’ she said quickly. ‘I thought I might send it to Gerald’s family when I get back to England.’ When he said nothing she gave a tiny shrug, ‘I saw the case and thought you might be able to use it. However, if it is not what you require, I shall not be offended. Perhaps we could sell it back.’

  He reached for her hand and carried it to his lips.

  ‘No need for that, milady. I have never received a better gift. Thank you, a thousand times.’

  Her fingers trembled and the blush deepened on her cheek.

  ‘I thought perhaps it might help you to remember me,’ she murmured.

  I could never forget you.

  Raoul heard the words in his head, but he dare not say them aloud. To do so would be to admit his weakness. He knew he should have left her at Rouen, insisted she take a ship from there, but somehow, he found it impossible to let her go. There was always some reason to keep her with him, just another day.

  The long dark lashes had swept down so that he could not see her eyes, but she made no move to free herself from his grasp and he could not bring himself to release her. Silence settled around them and with each moment that passed the peace of it drained away. The air became charged with anticipation, as if an electrical storm was imminent. They were locked in a silent tableau, their bodies inching closer. Gently Raoul ran his free hand down her cheek.

  ‘Cassie, look at me.’

  He saw the nervous movement of her throat before she slowly raised her head and lifted her eyes to his. They were huge and dark with only a narrow ring of violet around the black centres and as Raoul stared into the liquid depths he thought that he was drowning. He saw himself mirrored in those luminous eyes and he had a sudden, wild idea that he had found his soulmate.

  * * *

  A knock at the door shattered the moment. They jumped apart as the door opened and a serving maid entered.

  ‘A letter for madame,’ said the maid. She handed over the letter then waited, wiping her nose on her sleeve. Cassie turned the note over and over in her hands. She was dazed and unable to concentrate. She felt like someone dragged suddenly from a deep sleep.

  Raoul threw the girl a coin. ‘You may go.’

  At last Cassie broke the seal and read the note while the servant clumped noisily back down the stairs.

  ‘It is from Wolfgang,’ she said at last. ‘He says the arrangements are in hand. He is going to join us here for dinner.’

  ‘That is promising.’ Raoul glanced towards the window. ‘Judging by the sun’s shadow there is still an hour or so until dinner, are you tired or would you like to stroll out with me? A little air might do us both good.’

  ‘Yes, thank you, I would like that.’

  Cassie carefully pulled the veil over her face and preceded him out of the room. She was still confused by the look she had seen in Raoul’s eyes. What would he have said, if they had not been interrupted? Her heart skittered and she decided she would rather not know the answer. Therefore to walk out, where there would be much to see and discuss, would be infinitely preferable to sitting indoors together.

  * * *

  The town was bustling and it was easy for them to mingle amongst the crowds, enjoying the autumn sunshine. They talked very little, but they were comfortable together again and Cassie was glad of it.

  ‘I am sorry the market stalls are empty now,’ she said, when at last they turned to make their way back to
the inn. ‘I would have liked to show you where I purchased the case. I—’

  Raoul put his hand over her fingers where they rested on his sleeve and gave them a squeeze. She was silent immediately. A large group of uniformed riders was approaching.

  ‘Keep walking,’ Raoul told her quietly.

  Obediently Cassie accompanied him along the street, but she peered out through her thick veil as the riders trotted past them towards the town centre. At their head was a figure she had seen only once before, but would never forget. Valerin.

  ‘Has he come for you?’ she murmured.

  ‘It is most likely. He will know that the Prométhée is in port and has guessed that I would try to see the captain.’

  They walked on unhurriedly, but the last few yards to the inn seemed to go on for ever and it was all Cassie could do not to glance back over her shoulder. When they reached the inn the landlord was looking out for them and told them somewhat severely that dinner was ready and their guest had already arrived.

  ‘I have taken the liberty of setting a table for you in a private room,’ their host informed them. ‘Monsieur Lagrasse is waiting for you there.’

  ‘Yes, very good,’ said Raoul. ‘Tell him we will be with him once we have washed the dust of the streets from our hands.’ He followed Cassie up the stairs. ‘I am very glad we chose to stay here under a different name, it will take Valerin a little longer to find us out. I hope, by the time he does, you will be safely on your way to England.’

  * * *

  It was an added worry, but Cassie tried not to let it show as she made her way into the private parlour. She waited impatiently for the servants to set out their dinner and leave the room and as the door closed behind them she asked Wolfgang for his news. He responded in a bluff, cheerful voice.

  ‘I am very well, I thank you, and business is good.’ He gave his head a little shake and said much more quietly, ‘It is best not to take chances, even when we are alone. Someone may be listening on the other side of the panelling.’ He beckoned to them to lean closer. ‘We will meet at the church of St Valery at midnight tomorrow. It is barely five miles from here and there will be a boat standing off the coast, ready to sail for England. The captain is an old friend of mine. I did him a service some years ago and he is pleased now to be able to repay it.’