by Unknown
It didn't take long and the cover was better than Danny had hoped for. An entire procession of laden-bearers appeared from the Pelican and made for the gangway of Linton's yacht. "Come, Molly. You will be comfortable very soon." Danielle heaved the portmanteau onto her shoulder, Molly took the
other end, and with one final effort they trotted across the quay to mingle with the procession.'
"Oy! You there!" A seaman accosted them as they gained the head of the ramp.
"Watcha want?" Danny demanded, breathing heavily. "This 'ere weighs a ton, mate."
"Watcha got?" he inquired, stepping closer.
"Books." Danny spat disgustedly over the side of the ramp. "Can't think wat 'e wants wiv 'em."
"Nah!" the sailor agreed contemptuously and spat longer and further than Danny. Having made his
point, he appeared to lose interest in the two struggling bantams and returned to oiling the thick coils of rope that must be made to run smoothly through their cleats.
Danny headed unhesitatingly for the companionway. No one took any notice of them at all. Had she seemed uncertain of her direction they would have found themselves in difficulties, but she remembered the way all too well. There were few people below decks and those they met were far too busy to ask questions or offer advice to a pair of lads who seemed to know what they were doing.
Danielle closed the door to "Petersham's" cabin and leant against it with an exultant laugh. "Journey's
end, Molly. Now all we must do is remain undiscovered until we are well into the Channel. It will take perhaps two hours from the time we weigh anchor, depending on the wind and tide, before the yacht cannot safely be turned to beat back against the tides." She looked around the small cabin with a slight shudder of memory.
"For the moment we will stow the portmanteau beneath the bunk. There will be room enough there for me also, should anyone chance to enter. You may hide in the wardrobe." She pulled open the door to a narrow space set in the cabin wall. "It will be a squeeze, but I think you will manage."
"Yes, my lady," Molly murmured, throwing off the heavy cloak and helping Danielle to shove both cloak and portmanteau beneath the narrow bunk.
"It is a great nuisance that there is no key to this door," Danny grumbled. "But I will listen and if I hear footsteps we must hide instantly. It is unlikely, since I cannot imagine why anyone should wish to come
in here, but we must be on our guard."
Lord Julian had bespoken a room at the front of the Pelican overlooking the busy scene on the quay. He chose not to visit the taproom or stroll around the town once he had recovered from the rigors of his night's drive, having a lively dread of coming upon Linton who would undoubtedly evince interest in his young cousin's presence in Dover.
At two-thirty, he positioned himself at the window and watched. To his eyes, the two small figures were unmistakable and he whistled in unheard congratulation as he saw Danielle and Molly blend with the group entering the Black Gull. His heart paused as he witnessed the exchange between the sailor and Danielle. Of what was said, he remained in ignorance, but the results were clear. The two figures did not reappear as he maintained his lonely watch, aided by Mine Host's excellent burgundy, and late afternoon saw Linton appear in his racing curricle. To Julian's relief, his cousin strode instantly on board without availing himself of the Pelican's hospitality.
At six o'clock the Black Gull weighed anchor. Julian, with a heartfelt sigh of relief, consigned Danny and her bewildered maid to Justin's care and went below to seek out the landlord and consult about his dinner.
Justin visited his cabin briefly on his arrival in order to change out of his driving dress and into the britches and shirt that would stand him in better service on deck. He was blissfully unaware of the two figures next door, cowering in wardrobe and beneath bunk at the sounds of his arrival. Once comfortable, he returned to the deck to eat dinner with Forster in the wheelhouse where they discussed necessary matters pertaining to the yacht's seaworthiness and exchanged amiable conversation of a nautical kind.
It was a beautiful night. Justin stood his turn at the wheel with peaceful pleasure as the guiding stars came to light, bright against their velvet background. It was a time he would have liked to have shared with Danielle, he reflected. Even her sensitive stomach would have been unaffected by this milk calm sea, and her pleasure in the pure elemental quality of stars, sea, and gentle wind would have enhanced his own. Their progress would be slow this night and he had constantly to catch a fading breeze, turning the wheel until the sails bellied, far from full but sufficient to maintain way.
Once they had weighed anchor, Danielle relaxed her guard on the door. No one would have need to disturb them now. But the yacht moved slowly and she waited in punctilious patience for three hours, an hour over her original estimate, before leaving Molly and slipping into the next door cabin. They were both hungry, but Danny was convinced Justin would regain his cabin within the hour and once the explosion had passed, supper would be forthcoming. She stripped off her clothes, dropping them carelessly on the Turkey carpet, and, finding water in the ewer, .sponged the dust and sweat from her body. She yawned as a wave of irresistible fatigue smothered her, quite extinguishing the demands of
her grumbling stomach. The wide bed with feather mattress and linen sheets tempted like the devil on
the mountain and she lay down, drawing the covers to her chin. Just for a moment .. . only a doze that would give her added strength to deal with discovery. . . .
* * *
"Will you be sleeping below, m'lord? It's a fine night." Forster indicated the black water sighing gently beneath the prow, the studded sky, and the soft breeze. They had some company on the crossing,
judging by the flashing lanterns across the water.
"I think not." Linton placed his hands on the deck railing and breathed deeply. "1 will fetch my cloak and sleep beneath the stars. When think you we should reach Calais, Forster? Not by dawn, I'll lay odds."
"No, my lord." Forster sniffed the wind. "I don't think it'll die on us, but it'll not pick up this night. Midmorning, I'd say."
Justin nodded his agreement. "I'll be on the road by noon, then. Eight hours hard riding will bring me close to the gates of Paris. The delay will be of no great moment. I'll enter the city tomorrow morning
as I had intended." He went below in search of his boat cloak.
The instant Justin turned the knob on his cabin door he had the sense that something was amiss. He
stood just outside the door, trying to identify the indefinable something that lifted the hairs on the nape
of his neck. In the same instant he realized it was the sound of breathing, his eye fell on the discarded
pile of clothing, a dark shape on the carpet in the moon's glow. Stepping into the cabin, he closed the
door softly and wondered why he had not guessed. It was always possible, of course, that outguessing Danny was a chimeric hope and it was time he accepted that. His bed was occupied by a lump and he trod stealthily toward it. As usual, the covers came over her nose leaving only the closed eyes and the crown of her head visible. If he pulled back the sheet, he would find her body curled in a perfect position to invite his itching palm. He resisted the temptation with some difficulty. How the devil had she managed to get here?
Justin turned away from the bed and scooped up the heap of clothing as the retaliatory plan took shape. With a grim smile, he picked up his own portmanteau—Danny should have no opportunity to rifle his possessions in the absence of her own. He collected his boat cloak and left the cabin as quietly as he had entered it, removing the key from the inside and locking the door on his sleeping wife before pocketing the key.
He opened the door to the neighboring cabin, intending to dispose of his burdens, and gazed in disbelief
at the petrified maidservant who had leaped from the bunk and now stood, wide-eyed and mesmerized like a rabbit faced with a fox.
"What the devil are you doing
here, girl?" Linton's horrified eyes took in her attire, the shirt and britches stretched to begging point over the ample curves of bosom and hip. He thought of his sailors and slammed the door at his back.
"P ... p ... please, my lord," Molly stammered. "My lady.. ."
"It's all right, child. I'm sure you are not here of your own choosing." Justin tossed Danielle's clothes
onto the bunk and dropped his portmanteau to the floor. "How long have you been on board?"
"Since midaftemoon, my lord." Molly recognized Danielle's clothes and her pulse slowed. She had
nothing to fear from the Earl of Linton, who clearly already knew the worst.
"Have you supped?"
Molly's stomach was emptier than she could ever remember it being and the prosaic question brought a dimension of reality to this dreamlike situation. "No, my lord. We finished our picnic at noon, but it was necessary to remain concealed until. .."
"Quite," he interrupted, in no need of explanation on that point, "I shall be gone about ten minutes. Do you have any clothes other than those you are wearing?"
"Oh, yes, my lord," Molly said, eagerly latching onto something that must please him. "My own clothes and her ladyship's are in the portmanteau."
Linton glanced around the tiny cabin. "And where may that be?"
"Under the bunk, my lord."
"I see. Well, in my absence you will dress yourself properly. I am quite unable to vouch for your safety attired as you are."
"I wore a cloak, my lord," Molly offered. "Her Ladyship thought it would be best."
The earl turned away to hide a quivering lip. "Ten minutes," he said and left the cabin.
When he returned with a tray of bread, cold meat, fruit, and a tankard of port, he found Molly in gown, apron, and cap looking immeasurably more at ease. "Eat, child," he said, placing the tray on the table. "And while you do so, you may tell me the whole."
Molly had gone through too many novel experiences in the last day and a half to find sitting down to eat in the company of her employer more than a little strange. Linton leaned against the door, twiddling his glass as the girl recounted the tale. He made no attempt to interrupt, except for the occasional question, but at story's end he had the complete amazing picture.
"Rest now, Molly," he said. "I am sure you have need of it after your adventures and you must prepare yourself for some hard traveling in the next two days. You need have no fear that you will be disturbed before morning and then only by those I send to you."
"Thank you, my lord," Molly whispered in a wash of relief.
"But My Lady . . ?"
"You may safely leave Her Ladyship to me," Justin assured, in a rather unreassuring tone.
Back on deck, he wrapped the heavy cloak around him and lay down, resting his head on a coil of rope. He had been outguessed, outplayed and outmaneuvered and there was nothing to be gained by complaint. Danielle's planning had been superb and her insistence on Molly's presence a stroke of genius. They might have to travel a little more slowly but since they would be together that mattered not one iota. Pitt had requested her input and he would now have his wish. If Justin played his cards right, he could keep both Danielle and Molly safely lodged in the Tuileries where Danny could gather her own information, whilst he roamed the streets and clubs with one less task to accomplish. His wife was his partner and since she had no intention of being anything else the Earl of Linton had best accept that fact with a good grace. He would, however, exact a small penalty just to make a point. He fell asleep under the stars, a tiny smile curving the well-sculpted mouth on his last waking thought. How would the spitfire below decks react to that penalty?
Danielle slept the sleep of the dead, blissfully unaware of the events of the evening. She slept for eleven hours and awoke bemused. Light flooded the cabin from the round porthole and the yacht moved gently beneath her. Memory returned. Where was Justin? Had he not visited his cabin last night? Clearly not. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and looked around her. Her clothes were missing. Justin's portmanteau was missing. With prescient foreboding, she tried the door. It was locked. Justin had visited the cabin. Danielle knelt on the padded seat beneath the porthole. She could see nothing but sea, so they had not yet reached Calais. The chronometer on the table told her it was eight o'clock and her stomach told her that it needed food urgently. A carafe of water stood on the table, but it was in lonely isolation— not even an apple to bear it company. And she had no clothes.
Footsteps in the passage outside had her diving for the bed, but there was no sound at her door. She heard, instead, Molly's voice and another, the sound of a door closing and retreating footsteps. Danielle ran to the wall. "Molly?"
"Yes, my lady." The voice was muffled but recognizable.
"Is all well?"
"Oh yes, my lady. The cabin boy has just brought me my breakfast." Danielle's belly tightened in protest at the thought. "My Lord brought me supper last night," Molly rattled on, unaware of the pangs on the other side of the wall. "He was all consideration, my lady." There was a pause. "But I was obliged to tell him the whole."
"Yes, I'm sure you were," Danny said with a fair assumption of cheerfulness. "I told you you would have no need to worry. Enjoy your breakfast and I will talk to you again soon."
Danielle found that she had no desire to tell her maid of her own imprisonment or of her hunger. She returned disconsolately to bed, but the young fit body had no further need for rest, only for food, clothes, and action to use up the surge of energy. Damn the man! He was entitled to his revenge but this was going above and beyond the line. It was clever, though, Danny mused, leaving the bed to pace the cabin and, considering the way they had first met, it was also remarkably appropriate. She had been prepared for his fury, but this .. ? Looking again through the porthole, Danny saw the pink ramparts of Calais castle standing guard to the harbor. Justin would come soon then, unless he was intending to leave her like this for the duration of his trip to Paris. Unlikely, Danielle decided, scanning the pile of books on the table. They were all on navigation and she found what appeared to be the primer and curled on the window seat, allowing the warm sun to stroke her naked body.
It was thus that Justin found her an hour later when the Gull docked and he unlocked the master cabin. "Good morning, Danielle."
"Good morning." She hardly glanced up from the book. "This business of navigation is most interesting, sir. But I do not quite understand the quadrants although I am well versed in geometry. You will explain them to me, n'est-ce pas?"
"There will be time enough at Mervanwey, during the summer," he responded, the cool tone belying the admiring amusement. He had wondered how she would greet him, and now he knew. "It would be best
if you would return to bed," he continued, still impassive. "There will be some comings and goings in
the next minutes."
"But of course. As you wish, my lord." Danielle fervently hoping that one of these comings and goings would involve food, dived under the covers. She watched surreptitiously as a burly seaman appeared
with her portmanteau and Justin's, Molly following hard on his heels. A large tin tub was the next arrival, together with a succession of steaming jugs whose contents splashed into the tub. To Danielle's great disappointment, there were no further comings and her lips tightened on the stubborn determination that she would not give her husband the satisfaction of hearing her ask for food.
"Take your bath now, brat," Justin said carelessly. "There is no knowing when next you will have the opportunity. The Tuileries is a warren of a place and hot water in short supply, I would imagine."
So she was to go with him and her carefully thought-out arguments of persuasion unnecessary. Danny's heart skipped in triumph as she got into the tub. Justin read her expression correctly and had a flash of regret for his restraint of the previous evening. But he said simply, "Lay out Her Ladyship's riding habit, Molly. We shall travel on horseback this afternoon."
"Yes, my lor
d," Molly murmured obediently, but her expression was distinctly unhappy.
"What is it, girl?" he asked, puzzled.
"It... it is just that I do not ride very well, sir," Molly told him miserably. In fact, she did not ride at all
and regarded horses as monstrous dangerous beasts.
"There appears to be a flaw in your plans." Justin turned to his wife, splashing happily in the tub.
"No, not at all, milord," she returned with a bland smile. "I had always intended to take Molly up behind me. We will make better speed in that manner, anyhow."
At this news, Molly's expression lightened considerably and Justin turned to find a clean shirt in his portmanteau, hiding the amusement in his eyes. As he stripped off his shirt, Molly made a strange little mewling sound and he swore under his breath. The girl, of course, would be horrified at the prospect of her lord's bare chest. "Would you return to your cabin, Molly," he said calmly, keeping his back to her. "You will find a nuncheon there and I suggest you eat heartily. We shall not dine until late this evening. Afterward, if you wish you may go on deck. You will not be molested."
