Merriana grimaced. No, reality did not promise to be nearly as pleasant as her sleep had been.
They were bowed into the inn by an obsequious innkeeper who obviously recognized Quality and showed them into a private parlor with promises of food and drink “on the instant.”
“But first, milady will wish a chamber in which to freshen up,” he declared. “My good wife will show you upstairs immediately, milady.”
The earl looked surprised and Merriana smiled to herself. His omniscience hadn’t extended this far, it seemed. He could hardly follow her into an upstairs chamber. Still, she was in no mood to see just had far he might go. She looked directly into his eyes and stated sweetly, “I will not be over ten minutes, I am sure, brother dear, but I really must freshen up a bit.” Her “brother” bowed in acquiescence and the innkeeper led Merriana from the room.
When she returned less than ten minutes later, the earl was standing with his back to a blazing fire while servants placed cold meat and cheese and various sweetmeats on the table. Ale was being poured for the earl, but Merriana stated her preference for tea.
They ate in silence for a few minutes. Merriana had eaten too much breakfast to be hungry, but since she had no idea when they would eat again, she forced herself to consume a fair quantity of meat and cheese, knowing from experience that these would keep hunger at bay much longer than would sweetmeats. She was remembering a recent experience with hunger when the earl’s voice brought her back to the present.
“What is your real name, Mademoiselle? Since you are French, I am sure it’s not Mary. Is it Marie?”
“You should certainly call me Marie when we get to France, my lord,” Merriana replied coolly. “However, while we are still in England, Mary will be fine.”
“In other words, you don’t intend to tell me your real name?”
“I never tell anyone my real name, my lord.” Merriana immediately regretted her thoughtless reply and bit her lip in vexation.
“Why?” The question was immediate, as Merriana had expected.
“I cannot say why, my lord. Or, at least, I don’t intend to. Could we change the subject, please?”
“Certainly,” the earl agreed in an amiable tone. “Where were you trained as a French agent?”
Merriana sighed deeply. “I’ve already told you that I’m not a French agent.”
“Then why do you object to my knowing your real name? Why do you consistently lie about who you are and why you left your homeland to travel to England? How is it that you speak at least two dialects of English?”
“At the risk of appearing rude, my lord, I don’t believe the answers to those questions are any of your business. I didn’t lie when I told you that I’m not a spy and that I don’t know anything about the problems that occurred at the Drake and Cock. If you accept this, then you too will agree that my past is of no concern to you.”
“Very well put, my dear. Of course, you realize that the fallacy in your little argument centers around the premise that I am able to believe anything you tell me. You have given me no reason to believe you, while you have given me every reason to suspect you.”
“Not I, my lord, but rather a set of circumstances has given you reason not to believe me. There is no way I could have affected the outcome of circumstances such as those that led you to think of me as a spy against your country.”
“No? My dear Mary, you must forgive me. I still do not believe you.”
“Then this conversation goes in circles, my lord. Let it end. I’m ready to continue our odyssey.” She quickly stood to reinforce her last statement.
The earl rose more leisurely. “As you wish, my dear. However, I feel a warning is needed here.” He reached to encircle her wrist with his extremely strong fingers. “I don’t like unsolved mysteries, Mary.”
She jerked her hand away, realizing as she did so that she had not succeeded in freeing herself but rather that he had voluntarily loosened his grip. “And I, sir, do not like unnecessary warnings,” she flung over her shoulder as she stalked to the wall where her pelisse and bonnet hung on a peg. “May we go now or do you wish to continue with your threats a while longer?”
A small smile touched the earl’s lips. Merriana, had she known him less, might have believed that it contained a kernel of respect, but she could not allow such a thought to prosper. She was certain she already understood his suspicious nature far too well to believe he could respect her, no matter what she said or did.
Chapter 4
Portsmouth was not the prettiest town Merriana had ever seen, but she was delighted to see it nonetheless. The earl had set as swift a pace as any Merriana had ever endured, slowing only when they neared their destination and the roads became so crowded that he was forced to slacken his speed in order to protect the horses. Merriana was gritty and windblown and could only feel relieved when the earl bypassed the posting inns and drove straight to the docks, pulling up near a large fishing boat. A sailor with weathered skin and a cheerful appearance strode briskly from the deck to greet them, but the smile on his face died as he got a closer look at Merriana.
“What have we here, my lord?” he asked brusquely.
“Merely a guide, Isaac. I believe I told you there might be two passengers on this pleasure cruise.”
“Aye, that you did, my lord. But I weren’t expecting a lady.”
“Let us continue to call her a guide, Isaac. Mayhap that is a more accurate label.”
The look on the seaman’s face changed, almost imperceptibly, but certainly he had understood the earl’s implication. Merriana stiffened. So the earl doubted that she was a lady. Very well. She didn’t care what he thought of her. She certainly was not upset by such a statement from this madman. And she was absolutely not going to cry. She opened her eyes as wide as possible to allow the excess moisture gathered there to dry, and at that moment the earl looked directly into them. Merriana fancied she could detect a flicker of shame in his gaze, but he made no apology. He merely reached up to help her descend from the curricle.
“It’s time to get into our peasant garb, Mary,” he announced. “There’s a shack over here in which you can change. Leave your present clothing there. Isaac will make arrangements to have it waiting for you when we return.”
Merriana changed as quickly as possible, but the earl had obviously forgotten the tiny buttons she’d not been able to reach that morning. She still could not reach them, of course, and had to pull two out of the fabric before she could get the dress off. When she was once again clad in her old clothes, she folded the borrowed ones neatly and very carefully laid the two buttons directly in the middle of the stack.
When she stepped outside, the earl was standing nearby with a bundle under his arm. “Wait here,” he muttered as he disappeared into the shack. Merriana looked around. The seaman called Isaac was several feet away, leisurely leaning against a post, but she noted that his eyes never left her and she didn’t doubt that should she try to run, he’d catch her in a matter of seconds. She didn’t move.
In less than five minutes, the earl reappeared. The excellently tailored clothes of an English nobleman had been replaced by the coarse and ill-fitting breeches and shirt of a peasant. His hair was no longer neat, his face had been dirtied, and his hands were partially curled to mask the slender length of his fingers.
He looked at Merriana’s astonished expression and grinned. “Yes, it’s quite a change, isn’t it? By the way, I’m sorry I forgot about those buttons.”
“I assure you, my lord,” Merriana responded in her coldest tone, “it does not signify in the least.”
“One hopes my stepsister will agree with you,” he replied with a maddening grin before turning to the seaman.
“We’re ready, as you see, Isaac. However, I need you to hold this for me until we return.” He tossed what appeared to be a large bag filled with coins to the seaman. “Take your fee from that and keep the rest safe. Do you have some French currency for me?”
In
reply, the seaman tossed the earl a much smaller bag and then motioned that they should follow him.
Merriana walked calmly until they reached the gangplank, at which point she stopped so suddenly that the earl, holding her arm in a light grasp, lost his grip and walked beyond her. He turned quickly.
“What, my Mary?” he asked. “You’re not losing your nerve?”
“No,” she replied, swallowing convulsively. “I just felt I should warn you.”
“I thought you didn’t care for warnings.” His eyes had narrowed slightly.
“This is more a statement of fact, sir,” she said, glaring at him. “I’m going to be seasick.”
“Already? You’ve not set foot on the boat yet, my dear.”
“Not this minute, imbecile,” Merriana said. “But I will be! I always suffer from mal de mer, and I thought I should war—er, tell you in advance.”
“How thoughtful of you. It’s always more pleasant if one can anticipate such events for a while before they become fact.”
“I’m delighted someone can reap some pleasure from it, my lord. I certainly do not.”
His expression softened. “No, my dear, I’m sure you don’t. Perhaps if you stay on deck, you’ll feel somewhat better. Have you ever tried that?”
Merriana shook her head.
“I’ve heard it helps. We’ll try it, but you must allow me to stay close. The sea looks a bit rough today.”
Merriana nodded, swallowed again, and resolutely proceeded up the gangplank.
True to her word, Merriana was quite sick. The earl, with infinite patience, held her as she leaned over the railing. Finally, when she was too weak to stand, he picked her up with ease and yelled, “Isaac, we have need of your cabin.”
Beyond that, Merriana wasn’t sure what happened. She was too ill to open her eyes. She was aware—barely—that the earl pushed a door open while still carrying her. He then lowered her onto a cot and a few minutes later began bathing her face with cool water. She then drifted off into such a deep sleep that she didn’t wake until he gently shook her.
“Have we arrived?” she asked groggily.
“Yes, we’re anchored now. How do you feel?”
“Better,” Merriana murmured. “I…I’m dreadfully sorry to have been so ill. I think the sea was rougher than I’ve known it before. I was quite a trial to you, I’m afraid.”
“Nonsense,” he replied with a quick shrug. “You weren’t ill by choice, and frankly, I would send you straight back to the Drake and Cock if it were in my power to do so. Unfortunately, the captain has other stops to make before he returns to England, and I fear you would not wish to spend several more days on this boat, even if Isaac would agree, which he would not.”
Merriana shivered. “I wish to disembark as soon as possible. The thought of spending any more time on this vessel is the most distressing thing I can imagine at the moment. And, really, I’m much better.” In an attempt to prove her statement, she swung her legs over the edge of the cot and sat up. Her head began swimming alarmingly, so she sat quite still for a few seconds. Then she stood. “See, I’m much stronger now that this boat is not rolling so badly. As soon as I get ashore, I’ll be fine.”
The earl smiled. “You at least have nerve, my little Mary. Come, lean on my arm. I’ll have you on shore again as soon as I can.”
The shore was attained only through another series of harrowing events for Merriana. She was lowered into a rowboat that four burly sailors then rowed into a tiny cove where the sea crashed with resounding fury onto jagged black rocks. Then, still a few feet from shore, the earl jumped from the rowboat into waist-deep water and reached for Merriana. She clung to him tightly as he waded to a small patch of beach that was surrounded by more wet, black rocks. The captain followed closely behind.
After setting Merriana on her feet in the damp sand, the earl turned to Isaac. “Stay here with Mary,” he instructed. “My contacts should be waiting for me over beyond those rocks. I’ll see what they have to say and I’ll return as quickly as possible.” With that, he was gone, climbing nimbly over the boulders that lined the shore.
The captain took one look at Merriana and quickly led her to a dry patch of sand farther from the surf. He then stripped off his jacket, spread it on the sand, and told her to sit down. “For you look a mite pale, yet, ma’am,” he explained. “I ain’t never been sick at sea, thank the good Lord, but them as have say it’s a bad thing, and I know you was one of the worst cases I’ve ever seen.”
Merriana sat down thankfully. Her legs still felt weak, and a pounding had begun in her head that matched, crash for crash, the rhythm of the waves beating against the rocks. She pulled her thin pelisse more tightly around her, for the air was cold and the mist that reached her from the sea dampened her hair and face.
In less than five minutes, the earl returned. He frowned down at Merriana for a few seconds before turning to address Isaac. “Bad news,” he said. “The French army is beginning to suspect this area as a drop-off and pick-up point for agents. They haven’t isolated this particular spot yet, but they’re patrolling the area within several miles of here, and stopping anyone on horseback for questioning. The safest way to travel is on foot and cross country, keeping away from the roads. That’s what we’ll have to do, and it’s going to delay us. Can you be back in a week rather than the four days we’d planned on?”
The seaman nodded. “I can be back any time you have need of me,” he stated. “But what about her?” He nodded at Merriana. “Is she strong enough to walk cross country? She don’t look too hale to me.”
The earl regarded Merriana again. “I agree,” he said. “I think she could have made the journey on horseback, but on foot she would only slow me down. I’ll have to leave her with my friends here. They’ll care for her until I return. And if I’m not back in two weeks, you are to pick her up and take her back to the Drake and Cock.”
“No!” Merriana scrambled to her feet. “I’ve come this far and I want to go on. I was quite sick when I traveled from France to England, but after a night’s rest and a little food, I walked to the Drake and Cock, which was much farther than the journey we will be undertaking here. I can endure it as well as you can.”
“But why would you want to go, my dear, when you can stay safely behind?”
“You need me or you would not have brought me this far,” Merriana said. “You don’t know the country and you don’t speak French as well as I. If I don’t go, you’ll have less chance of returning.”
“Is that right?” Isaac demanded of the earl.
“Perhaps,” he replied. “Frankly, I’m not sure whether I’m safer with her or without. She could be a French agent leading me into a trap.”
Isaac glared at Merriana. “Are you a French agent, girl?” he asked.
Merriana raised her chin. “No, I am not, although this imbecile insists on believing I am.”
“What’s an imbecile?” Isaac asked.
“Merely a French term of endearment ma petite favors for me,” the earl said, grinning. “Perhaps I will take her after all. She could be telling the truth, I suppose.”
“Well, if my opinion counts for aught,” the seaman stated, “I think you should take her. She don’t look like any French agent to me.”
“She looks like an angel,” the earl said, “but that doesn’t mean she sports a halo. Still, I believe I’ll take your advice, Isaac. She’ll go with me. But first, we must get some food into her very empty stomach and then rest in a nearby village tonight. We’ll both be stronger in the morning.”
Isaac returned to the rowboat after declaring that he’d be back in a week and lay offshore until he received the signal to come into the cove and pick up his passengers.
The earl helped Merriana climb over the rocks, which were soon replaced by dunes and then, about half a mile farther, by a small fishing village. A grizzled old man met them on the outskirts of the village and led them into a tiny cottage where a young woman was stirring a pot ov
er the fire.
The young woman was quite talkative, and Merriana quickly learned that she and her father lived alone in the cottage and were in the habit of helping those who for any reason wished to enter or leave France undetected by the authorities. They had no love for the upstart Napoleon, whose armies had claimed the lives of many young Frenchmen, including this woman’s brother.
Soon the woman dished up an excellent stew which she placed on the table, along with bread and cheese. Merriana ate while the earl spoke quietly with the old man. She noted that although the earl’s French was fluent, she could detect the trace of an accent. He might pass as a Frenchman in some cases, but anyone who listened closely would likely realize that he was not a native.
Not long after she finished her meal, Merriana began to feel drowsy and so was quite content to allow her young hostess to lead her to a tiny bedroom just off the kitchen, where a fresh gown was laid out on the bed and warm water awaited her in a pitcher. In less than ten minutes, she had climbed in the comfortable feather bed and was close to falling asleep when she heard the clink of coins and then a door opening and closing. She wondered briefly what the earl and the old man were doing and then her mind wandered to the following morning when she and the earl were to begin their trek to the village of Vilon.
Suddenly a thought came that made her sit straight up in bed. The earl had brought her along as a guide, and she had no earthly idea where they were or in which direction the village of Vilon lay.
Chapter 5
When Merriana awoke the next morning just as dawn was breaking, she heard muted voices coming from the kitchen and detected the odor of breakfast cooking. She hurriedly dressed and stepped out into the kitchen, feeling a certain urgency about talking to the earl. He was there before her, dressed again in his peasant garb which, Merriana could not help noting, did little to camouflage his broad shoulders and narrow hips. What concerned her the most, however, was his proud carriage. No peasant ever held his head at such a regal angle.
The Mysterious Merriana Page 4
