Return of the Runaway

by Sarah Mallory

  There, he had said it. He had told her the truth. If the lady had a particle of sense she would take her purse and quit his company as quickly as possible.

  ‘And what of you, do you plan to go on to Dieppe alone?’

  ‘Once I have discharged my duty to you, yes.’

  She sipped at her wine.

  ‘From what you have told me of Valerin, he will have men on the quay here, looking out for us.’

  ‘True, but that is a small problem. I could distract them while you slip aboard.’

  ‘And put yourself in more danger?’ She shook her head. ‘I would prefer we took our chances together.’

  ‘It will be dangerous to come with me to Dieppe. Valerin is no fool and he will have alerted the guards at the gates. You would be safer to embark upon a ship here in Rouen. You could be in England in a couple of days.’

  A party of men pushed in through the door and made their way noisily to a table in the far corner. Raoul leaned forward as if to shield Cassie from view and once they had settled down he eased back, only to discover she had moved closer.

  ‘I would rather stay with you. I have placed my trust in men before and been deceived.’

  ‘Ah, you mean that scoundrel courier.’

  ‘Not just Merimon.’ Her eyes slid away from his. ‘We have a saying in England, monsieur,’ she said stiffly. ‘We say ’tis better the devil you know. If I have a choice, I would rather take my chances with you than trust another stranger.’

  ‘You think me a devil, milady?’

  ‘All men are devils,’ she retorted. ‘But perhaps you are less of one than most.’

  ‘Merci, madame, a concession indeed.’

  She ignored that. ‘Besides, Valerin will think it most likely that we will try to leave Rouen by ship, will he not?’

  ‘That is my opinion.’

  ‘Then we shall go by road and confound him. I am wearing my riding habit. Can you obtain a lady’s mount for me?’ She turned to him, a faint, shy smile lighting her eyes. ‘I would rather not share a horse this time.’

  ‘I think that can be arranged.’

  He felt a smile tugging at his own lips. Her courage enchanted him. He wanted to pull her close and plant a kiss upon those cherry-red lips. To smell her, taste her...

  He knew she had read his thoughts. Even in the dim light of the tavern he saw a flash of recognition in the violet depths of her eyes. She moved slightly away from him.

  ‘Now, let us think how we are to get out of Rouen. Doubtless there will be sentries at the gate.’

  Her cold tone sobered him, reminded him that they came from different worlds. A mutual attraction was not enough to bridge the differences between them.

  ‘I met several fellows at the quay today who I am sure would help us,’ he replied. ‘Have you finished your meal? Then let us make a start.’

  Chapter Seven

  By dawn they were galloping north from Rouen. In the grey, misty half-light it seemed to Cassie that all the world was asleep, save her and Raoul. She was tired, for the night had been spent in preparation. She had accompanied Raoul as he held stealthy meetings with shadowy figures. She was at his side, silent and watchful while he made all the arrangements. She heard the soft chink of coins at times and guessed that their purse was now considerably lighter. It had been an anxious time, for Cassie could not shake off the feeling that they were being followed. She often glanced behind as they made their way through the darkened streets and peeped back as they slipped through doorways. She saw no one, yet her unease persisted.

  Once away from Rouen they avoided the main highways and rode along little-used tracks through the wooded countryside. Raoul had told her they would rest during the day and travel mainly at night to avoid detection and Cassie hoped she would not fall asleep and tumble out of the saddle as they pressed on northwards.

  * * *

  A blanket of cloud obscured the sun, but she guessed it was nearing noon when at last they made their first stop. The little-used road had led them deep within ancient woodland and Cassie followed Raoul as he turned off the track and pushed his horse through the thick undergrowth. The trees grew tall and close and the autumn gales had not yet arrived to strip the leaves from the canopy. As they moved away from the path they entered deeper into a murky half-light.

  ‘We can rest here,’ Raoul declared at last, dismounting and tethering his horse.

  ‘Are we safe from pursuit?’ She glanced back, peering anxiously between the trees. ‘Are you sure we are not being followed?’

  ‘I have seen no one and heard nothing,’ he told her. ‘We are far enough from the road now to escape detection, but we should not risk lighting a fire.’

  ‘No, I would rather we did not. The cloaks you purchased will keep us warm.’

  She considered jumping down before Raoul came over to help her, but her body was too weary for such independence. When he reached up for her Cassie slid down into his arms and when he held her for a moment she did not resist, but gave in to the temptation to rest her head against the broad wall of his chest.

  ‘You are exhausted,’ he said gently.

  She summoned up a smile as she pushed away from him.

  ‘I shall feel better for a little bread and wine.’

  He handed her the saddlebag.

  ‘Go and sit down. Rest and I will join you as soon as I have seen to the horses.’

  Cassie unstrapped her cloak from the saddle and sought out a smooth piece of ground. The earth beneath the trees was soft and loamy. She wrapped herself in the voluminous folds of the cloak and sat down to wait for Raoul. When at last he settled beside her he began to take various packets of food from the bag. She took a small piece of bread and drank from the flask of wine that Raoul held out to her.

  He said, when she handed back the flask, ‘There is sausage, too. It is very good.’

  ‘Thank you, I am too tired to eat more.’

  ‘It will give you strength.’ He cut off a slice with his knife and held it to her lips. ‘Try it.’

  The savoury smell was indeed enticing and she opened her mouth, gently taking the meat from him. Her lips touched his fingers, like a lover’s kiss, and she felt the heat flowing up through her body. It set her cheeks on fire and her eyes flew to his face. What she read there made her heart pound. Quickly she looked away.

  ‘Yes, you are right, it is very good. I am not usually fond of such meats, but perhaps the long ride has sharpened my appetite.’ She was aware she was gabbling to cover her confusion.

  He was cutting another slice for her and she put out her hand to take it from him. She could not risk another intimate touch. When Raoul offered her the flask again she shook her head. She watched him put back his head to drink, noting the powerful lines of his throat. There was a shadow of dark stubble on his lean cheeks and she thought by the evening it would be quite thick again, the beginnings of another bushy beard such as he had worn when they had first met. How long ago that seemed. How far they had travelled since he had first taken her up before him and carried her away. Her ragged, bearded rescuer.

  Cassie fell into a reverie, contemplating whether she preferred him clean shaven or hirsute. She had told him once he looked like a bear, but that was untrue. He had never looked anything other than a man. Strong, resolute, reliable.

  Honourable.

  ‘We should rest now, milady.’

  Raoul was packing away the remains of their scant meal and she watched him in silence, wanting to thank him for all he had done for her, yet not knowing how to begin. Instead, without a word she pulled her cloak tighter around her and lay down. She fell asleep almost immediately, but following the deep repose of exhaustion came the memories. She was back in Verdun, trying to keep up appearances and eke out the little money they had left. She knew if she wrote t
o Grandmama the marchioness would find a way to send her more funds, but she did not tell Gerald that. She had realised soon after they had reached Paris that Gerald was an inveterate gambler. Even before they were detained and moved to Verdun their funds were running low, but Gerald would not economise, he was certain that the next evening the cards or the dice would prove lucky and they could repair their fortunes at a stroke.

  She stirred restlessly, reliving the strained silences and heated arguments. When their disagreements became more bitter Gerald took to going out without her. He accused Cassie of not liking his friends and she could not deny it, she did not trust them. She was afraid to let him go out alone, but it was impossible to go with him. She rarely saw him sober, and as the weeks went on his taunts took an unpleasant turn, wheedling, cajoling, pleading, bullying, until she grew to dread his return to their lodgings...

  ‘Cassandra. Cassie, wake up.’

  The memories receded, angry voices were replaced by birdsong and the smells and sounds of the woods filled her waking senses. Her cheeks were wet with tears and she sat up quickly, alarmed. She never cried.

  ‘I beg your pardon,’ she muttered. ‘Did I disturb you?’

  ‘No, I was awake.’ Raoul’s hand had been warm on her shoulder, but now he drew it away and immediately she missed the comfort of his touch. He said, ‘Your dreams were not happy, I think.’

  She did not reply. She could not bring herself to describe them, shamed by the failure of her marriage.

  Raoul was still sitting beside her, but his cloak was already folded neatly, ready to strap on to his saddle.

  ‘Is it time to go?’ she asked.

  ‘Soon. You may rest more first if you wish.’

  Cassie shuddered, her dreams still too vivid, too fresh.

  ‘No.’ She jumped up and shook out her skirts, saying resolutely, ‘I would much rather we went on.’

  * * *

  Raoul threw Cassandra into the saddle and mounted his own horse. He would have liked to ask what her dream was about, but she was clearly not ready to share it. He had been awake when she had become restless, muttering incoherently, growing more distressed. More than once he had heard her crying out, ‘Gerald, no!’ Gerald was the name of her husband. Was he a cruel man, perhaps? A wife beater? Cassandra did not have the appearance of an abused wife, but just the thought of it angered him. Perhaps he had been too hasty in thinking she had abandoned her husband.

  What did it matter? He asked himself the question as they made their way through the woods, weaving between the trees until they reached the road again. If it had been a bad marriage, then she was well out of it, but it could make no difference to him. He shifted uncomfortably in his saddle. That was not true; it would be easier for him to leave her if she was a selfish aristo, as he had first thought. Now he would remember her as a brave, noble creature and he would always regret what might have been, in another time, another place. He gave himself a little shake. No. Even if she had not been another man’s wife there was no future for them. He had dedicated his life to medicine, there was no room for anything other than a casual liaison and he could not imagine Cassandra would ever agree to that. Raoul glanced across at her, noting the proud tilt to her head. She was a lady, so let her return to England, to her life of ease and comfort. It was what she knew, where she would be happy. And he would be happy for her. Another night and they would be at Dieppe. Then, with a little luck, she would be off his hands.

  * * *

  They made slow progress through the night as the clouds thickened to obscure the moon. Whenever they came to a river Raoul avoided the bridges with their sentries and searched for a ford where they could cross. It lengthened their journey, but the country was at war and especially near the coast the guards were on the alert. Without papers they could not afford to be stopped and questioned. By dawn a steady drizzle was falling, soaking into their cloaks and chilling the air. He saw a huddle of farm buildings ahead of them and struck off into the trees to wait and watch. Experience had taught him to be cautious; such buildings could be full of soldiers. The farm looked deserted save for a few hens pecking in the doorway of an old outhouse. He saw an old woman hobble outside to fetch water from the well. They had dismounted and Raoul glanced at Cassie, who was resting against a tree. Her face was grey and drawn in the dim light. She was shivering, too, and he made up his mind. He gathered the horses’ reins, put one arm about Cassandra and walked purposefully towards the farmstead.

  * * *

  The farmhouse door was shut firm and only Raoul’s repeated knocking brought any sign of life. A small casement window opened and the old woman looked out.

  ‘Good day to you,’ Raoul called cheerfully. ‘My wife and I would be grateful if you would allow us to warm ourselves by your fire for a while.’

  ‘No, no, I am too busy. Go away.’

  Raoul pulled out a handful of coins and shook them.

  ‘I can pay you.’

  The old woman hesitated.

  ‘You can shelter in the barn, yonder,’ she said at last. ‘You and your horses. I’ll not have strangers in the house.’

  ‘You are wise, madame, in these uncertain times. And could you spare us a little food? I would gladly catch one of those hens and wring its neck for you.’

  Agreement was soon reached. Raoul took Cassie and the horses to the old wooden barn before going off to find a plump bird for the pot. When he returned he found the horses had been unsaddled and Cassandra was busy rubbing them down with sweet-smelling straw. He frowned.

  ‘You should not be doing that.’

  ‘Why not?’ She turned, smiling. ‘It was the least I could do, since you were catching our dinner. Besides, the exertion has warmed me and I feel better for that.’

  He grabbed a handful of straw and began to help her.

  ‘So, we dine on chicken today?’ she asked him.

  ‘Yes, but not until this evening. We are to fetch it from the window when we hear the bell ring.’ He nodded to the sack he had brought in with him. ‘She has sent over wine and some sort of cake to keep our hunger at bay for a few more hours.’

  Cassie finished rubbing down her horse and threw down the straw, yawning. ‘That is very good of her, but I think sleep is what I need first.’

  She shook out their cloaks and threw them over a low wooden partition to dry off.

  ‘And I.’ Raoul scrambled up into the loft and pushed down a pile of hay for the horses to eat before collecting up some empty sacks and placing them over the straw piled in the far corner of the barn. ‘I hope this will be soft enough for you, milady.’

  She chuckled. ‘I am growing used to such deprivation.’

  ‘Hopefully it will not be for much longer.’

  ‘No. I hope soon to be back in England.’ She fell silent and he saw she was looking a little wistful. The pensive frown vanished when she realised he was watching her and she smiled.

  ‘To be honest I am so tired I do not think I would notice if my bed was made of stone,’ she admitted.

  She made herself comfortable on the sacks and Raoul thought suddenly how much he would like to see her lying naked on the very finest feather bed. He turned away quickly. She had told him her husband was an accomplished lover, so he must have often seen her like that. Lucky man.

  ‘Are you not going to sleep, too?’

  Her question only flayed his raw desire. Sleep was the last thing on his mind. He dared not look at her.

  ‘No, not yet. I will eat something first.’

  He picked up the food bag and moved away, sitting down on the sacks of turnips piled against one wall. His appetite had quite disappeared and he only made a pretence of looking in the bag until Cassie’s soft, steady breathing told him she was asleep. He found another empty sack and placed it on the straw, as far away from Cassie as possible. He was dog
tired, but it was some time before his blood had cooled sufficiently for him to sleep.

  * * *

  Cassie opened her eyes. She had slept soundly, dreamlessly and was aware of a feeling of well-being. She stretched luxuriously. The straw beneath her was very comfortable and the patter of rain on the roof made her thankful they were not sleeping out of doors again. She reached out one hand, expecting to feel Raoul’s solid body beside her and when it was not there she panicked, sitting up and looking about her wildly.

  ‘Is anything wrong, milady?’

  He was stretched out on the far side of the piled straw, lying on his back with his hands behind his head, watching her.

  She answered him without thinking. ‘I thought I had lost you.’

  He sat up, saying shortly, ‘I gave you my word I would see you safe aboard a ship for England.’

  That had not been her concern, but it would be too difficult to explain so she did not try. Instead she rose and tried unsuccessfully to brush tiny wisps of straw from her skirts.

  ‘I am thankful we found shelter here today,’ she said. ‘Even if it is only a barn.’

  ‘The old woman thawed considerably once I handed over the bird for her to prepare,’ said Raoul. ‘She told me her son has been conscripted into the army and she has to manage here alone now, except for the occasional visits from her brother.’

  ‘Poor thing, no wonder she is wary of us. But I do not mind staying in this barn. At least we are warm and we are protected from the rain.’ She paused. ‘What did you tell her, about us?’

  ‘I did not need to say much at all. The old mother has a fertile imagination.’

  ‘Oh?’

  He grinned. ‘I let her think we were man and wife, that is all. She guessed we had been on a pilgrimage to Rouen and I did not correct her.’

  Cassie nodded. ‘The French government may well have tried to abolish religion, but I am sure many people still cling to their beliefs, especially in remote areas such as this.’