Return of the Runaway Page 2

  ‘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, yo
u 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.

  ‘Stay here, madame, while I see to the horse.’

  Cassie slumped down against the base of a tree. Stay here, he had said. Did he think she would run away? She had no idea where she was, or which way she should go. She recalled how she had complained that she could not sleep in the carriage. What luxury that seemed now, compared to her present predicament. Not only must she sleep out of doors, but in the company of a stranger. The fact that they had introduced themselves made no difference; she knew nothing of this man.

  She listened to the rustle of leaves as Raoul Doulevant secured the horse before coming to sit down beside her. She felt his presence rather than saw him and his silence unnerved her. She tried to recall what he had told her of himself.

  ‘So you are a sailor, monsieur?’

  ‘I was ship’s surgeon on the Prométhée for six years.’

  ‘Really?’

  She could not keep the surprise from her voice and he gave a short laugh.

  ‘My clothes tell the different story, no? I was obliged to...er...acquire these to escape detection.’

  ‘If you were being pursued, then clearly that did not work.’

  ‘No. There is one, Valerin, who is very determined to catch me.’

  ‘He holds a grudge against you, perhaps?’

  ‘I stopped him from forcing himself upon my sister. I should have killed him, instead of leaving him alive to denounce me.’

  Cassie shivered. The words were quietly spoken, but there was no mistaking the menace in them.

  ‘Where is your sister now?’

  ‘I sent her to Brussels. We still have friends there. She is safe.’

  ‘No doubt she is anxious for you to join her.’

>   ‘Perhaps. Her last letter said she had met an old friend, a wealthy merchant who is now a widower. I think they will make a match of it. Who knows, they may already be married. She is a widow and does not need to wait for my blessing.’

  It was the most he had said to her all day and his tone was perfectly polite so she pushed aside her animosity.

  ‘All the same, monsieur, it is good of you to delay your journey for me.’

  When he did not reply she wondered if he was regretting his decision.

  ‘Try to sleep,’ he said at last. ‘I will wake you if the light improves enough to move on.’

  ‘Will you not sleep, too?’

  The black shape shifted, as if he had drawn up his knees and was hugging them.

  ‘No.’

  Cassie was too exhausted to wonder at his stamina or to fight off her low spirits. Eloping with Gerald Witney had been shocking enough, but she was very much afraid that her friends and family would be even more shocked if they could see her now, alone under the stars with a strange man. She sighed as she curled up on the ground. There was nothing to be done and she was quite desperate for sleep, so she made herself as comfortable as she could and closed her eyes.

  * * *

  Raoul sank his chin on his knees and gazed at the unremitting darkness. The track was well-nigh invisible now. They had been right to stop, he acknowledged, but he wished it had not been necessary. The sooner he was relieved of this woman’s presence the better. He travelled best alone, he did not want the responsibility of a foreign female, especially an arrogant Englishwoman. She could find her own way from Reims. After all, Bonaparte had no quarrel with women, she could hire a carriage to take her to the coast. Raoul closed his mind to the fact that she had been duped once by an unscrupulous courier. He had problems enough of his own to think of. He glanced up, although the darkness was so complete it was impossible to see where the trees ended and the sky began. There was no sign that the cloud would lift any time soon, so eventually he laid himself down on the ground, knowing he would be wise to rest.

  * * *

  Dawn broke, but not a glimmer of sun disturbed the uniform grey of the sky. Raoul put his hand on Lady Cassandra’s shoulder to rouse her. He could feel the bones, fine and delicate as a bird beneath his hand. But she was not that delicate. He remembered how she had brought her attacker down with the tree branch. He could not deny this aristo had spirit.