The Rebel Bride

by Catherine Coulter

  She was praying devoutly that the peasant would be gone. But when they rounded a bend in the road, she saw to her despair that he hadn’t budged and now stood in the roadway, legs apart, holding the knobby stick tightly in one hand.

  Julien drew up some distance from the peasant and turned to her. “You will stay here—”

  “No, I want—”

  “Bloody hell, woman, you will do as I tell you. You move a muscle, exercise your tongue just once, and it will be the worse for you. Do you understand me?”

  She nodded, pale and now quite frightened for him. She called after him, “Please be careful. I don’t want us both hauled to the magistrate.”

  Julien ignored her, saying to Crayton, “Stay with her ladyship, James, and don’t bloody let her leave this spot. Jesus, at least she forgot to kick him in the crotch.”

  She sat huddled in the saddle, wishing that a Swiss regiment would somehow magically appear. She watched tensely as Julien strode toward the peasant. She hunched lower in the saddle and bit her lip as the man brandished the stick in Julien’s face and yelled wildly in her direction. At the next moment, Kate blinked in astonishment, for the man lay sprawled in the dirt and Julien stood over him, calmly rubbing his knuckles. When the man finally struggled to his feet, he appeared to have shrunken visibly in size, or so it seemed to her. She wasn’t really surprised that her husband could see to himself and to her. It rather pleased her, but then again, she had been the one who initially saved the mare. Julien had come in on the last act, so to speak. This was only an epilogue.

  There followed a rapid conversation in French, dominated by Julien. Money changed hands, and to Kate’s further surprise, the man bowed to Julien, dusted off his clothing, and walked quickly into the forest.

  Kate clicked her horse forward and drew up beside her husband.

  “Well, my dear, it seems that you now own a horse.” He allowed his features to soften now at the sight of her. She was a mess, very pale, with her hair hanging in tangles about her face.

  She gave him a huge smile, and that was lovely, and completely her, full of bravado. “You hit him smartly. I was impressed. Perhaps you could show me just how you did that.”

  “Not likely. When you meet Percy, he will tell you in the most condescending manner possible that I spend too much of my time sparring with Gentleman Jackson. I fear they wouldn’t approve your membership.”

  “He’s the boxer.”

  “Yes, he is. Now let’s go home. Both you and your horse are in need of attention.”

  For the first time, Kate became aware of her disheveled condition. “I guess I am rather a mess.”

  “But no worse off than your horse.”

  “She will be all right, won’t she, Julien?” she said, as she looked at the pitiful specimen she had rescued.

  “She will forget this experience more quickly than you will, I wager.”

  Julien’s lightness of heart lasted only until they reached the villa. His anger, born undeniably of his fear for her, fanned again as he recalled her utter stupidity. When he lifted her off his horse’s back, he looked down at her and didn’t bother to cloak his anger at all. “A fine day’s work, madam. If you think that I will condone your altogether asinine behavior, you’re sadly mistaken. That you would walk out in a strange country, alone, is in itself so stupid I can scarce credit it, even from a female.”

  She knew she was in the wrong, but she’d rather thought that he’d gotten over his rage at her. What had set him off again? “I think, my lord, that you’re expending a great deal too much ire on the incident.” She gave him a fat smile.

  It had no discernible effect. “Incident? You’re calling this an incident? Dammit, have you thought what would have happened if your horse hadn’t so obligingly helped you? And what if I hadn’t stopped your horse?”

  “But you did, Julien,” Kate said reasonably. “And if you hadn’t, certainly she would have gotten tired, sooner or later and stopped all by herself.”

  “You little idiot, that isn’t the point, as you well know. I will strangle you myself if ever you again pull such a ridiculous stunt. Do you understand me?”

  “It’s impossible not to understand, you are ranting so loudly.”

  “Oh, the devil. Talking sensibly to you is like trying to convince a fence post to stand tall without pounding it into the ground. Go to your room and try to make yourself presentable. I will see you at dinner, in an hour.”

  She walked without another word into the villa, trying in vain to hold together the gaping tear in her skirt.

  “James, see to the mare. She just looks to need cleaning up, three buckets of oats, and two days of rest.” When he walked through the front door, he heard Mrs. Crayton give a scream and thought, not without some pleasure, that Kate would receive a good scold from yet another quarter.

  Kate begged, cajoled, and threatened Mrs. Crayton not to inform his lordship when the woman discovered the swollen, discolored bruise on her thigh. She finally secured her reluctant agreement after assuring her mendaciously that it bothered her not at all.

  For the first time, she entered the dining room not even one minute late. She was even a minute or two early. She was beginning to ache all over, as if the peasant had flailed her and not the mare with his stick.

  Julien had planned to lecture her at length during dinner, but at the sight of her exhausted face, such intentions vanished. Without thinking, he took her gently in his arms, and to his surprise, she eased her arms behind his back and pressed herself against him. After a few moments he murmured softly, his chin resting against her hair, “Please forgive me for taking strips off your hide. It’s just that if something had happened to you, well, I wouldn’t have been a happy man.”

  She drew back in the circle of his arms and tried for a smile. “You were a worse bully than that horrible man, Julien. Do you think we could just say that all’s well that ends well?”

  He was obliged to laugh. “What, Kate, more Shakespeare? Just as long as you don’t try to tell me it’s much ado about nothing at all.”

  “No, I shan’t, and Julien, I will tell you again, I’m not a shrew and your veiled references are quite revolting to me.”

  “Undoubtedly you’re right,” he said, not wanting to give her reason to leave the circle of his arms. “You now have one task left, my dear, and that’s to name your mare.”

  She didn’t move away from him, thank the powers, just grew silent and thoughtful. “You know,” she said at last, smiling up at him, “it’s too bad she’s a mare, for Gabriel would be my choice. You see, I was quite convinced that I had reached my judgment day.”

  His arms tightened about her, though his voice was light enough. “Then she shall be Gabriella. What do you think?”

  She looked up at him fixedly for a moment, the expression on her face unreadable, and lightly slipped from his arms.

  There was a companionable silence between them as Mrs. Crayton served their dinner, clucking worriedly each time she gazed at Kate. When she left the room, Kate looked up from her plate. “The way she is acting, I feel as though I should cock up my toes and pass over to the hereafter. Ah, do tell me, my lord, whatever were you doing in the village today? I thought that perhaps you were not pleased here and wished to make arrangements to return to England.”

  “Why ever should I not be pleased?”

  She fidgeted for a good thirty seconds, then managed to pull herself together, saying, “Oh, I can really think of no reason. How stupid of me to say such a thing. Now, do tell me, Julien, what was your errand?”

  “I was on a quest actually, a matter of some importance, and I hope, indeed, I am quite certain that the result will meet with your approval.”

  “My approval? Come, stop teasing me. What have you done?” Her lips were parted slightly, and her eyes shone with excitement.

  Rather than answer her immediately, Julien swiveled around in his chair, looked at the clock on the mantel, and appeared to give some weighty problem d
ue reflection. He turned back to her, a smile on his face. “Perhaps we should wait until tomorrow. You have had a rather trying day.”

  “How horrid you are. I’m fine as a new penny, I promise. Now, what have you done, do tell me.”

  “Very well. Go to your room. You’ll find a surprise. I will expect you in the library in fifteen minutes.”

  She had no idea what to expect, but when she found a pair of black-silk breeches, a frilled white shirt, and a pair of elegant black boots set neatly on her bed, she was baffled. In but a trice she was gazing at her trim figure in the long mirror. She quickly drew on the boots, pulled her hair back, and secured it with a black ribbon.

  She skipped out of her room and down the stairs, unable to contain her excitement. She pushed open the library door to see Julien standing in the middle of the room, dressed as she was, in breeches and shirt. In his hand he held two foils.

  She gasped with surprise. “Julien, you don’t mean—you got us foils? One is truly for me?”

  His eyes lit up at her evident pleasure, but she didn’t notice, her gaze being fastened on the foils he held.

  “As I recall, you said you wanted to learn how to fence, it not being one of Harry’s sports. So I will teach you.” He walked to her and placed a foil in her hand.

  “Oh, goodness, yes, oh, yes. You’re too good! Oh, my goodness.” She clasped the foil in sheer delight and bent it back and forth, testing its flexibility.

  She looked up after a few moments of this pastime and said with wonder in her voice, “But I lost our wager at piquet, don’t you remember?”

  “So? What has that to say to anything? It has been a great while since I’ve had a worthy opponent. I only hope I’m not to be butchered like poor Harry.”

  “As long as there is a button on the tip, you have no need to worry.” She rewarded him with a dimpled smile.

  Julien moved swiftly away from her to the center of the room and presented his side, his foil unwaveringly straight, in salute.

  “En garde, madam!”

  “En garde!” she repeated with great delight and thrust her own foil forward.

  Their foils clashed in the silent room with a ring of steel. Since he wasn’t sure of her ability, he controlled the speed and power of his thrusts, at least at first. He discovered very quickly, as he parried lunge after lunge, that she was an aggressive fencer. She held herself perfectly straight, her form excellent. She appeared to have no fear whatsoever and executed the most daring of maneuvers. No wonder she had rolled up poor Harry. He smiled as he tested for areas of weakness. Her foil was like her tongue, quick, sharp, and quite spontaneous. He slipped through her guard, drew up short, and pulled back. She merely laughed and in a quick flurry skipped forward and drove him back with rapid steps to the corner of the room. Their foils locked together for a moment before Julien, with a practiced flick of his wrist, sent her foil spinning from her grasp to the floor. She looked momentarily surprised, laughed at herself, and hurried to retrieve the foil. As she bent forward, the bruise on her thigh, to this point not all that painful, sent a flash of pain through her leg. She quickly averted her head and gritted her teeth, cursing the leg and the peasant who had struck her.

  Julien saw the tiny furrow of pain on her forehead and instantly drew up and dropped his foil to his side. But then he thought he must have been mistaken, for when she straightened, her face glistening with sweat and her foil held securely once more in her hand, she shot him a dazzling smile and cried gaily, “I do believe you’re just a bit better than Harry. And now, my lord,” she added, advancing on him, “I defy you to catch me so unawares again with your paltry tricks.”

  “Better than even Harry? Such praise, it surely warms my cockles. As for my tricks, let’s see just how quickly I catch you napping again.”

  As Kate lunged forward, shifting her weight onto the leg, another surge of pain distorted her face, and she clamped her lips together tightly to stifle the cry that threatened to escape. She drew up and turned about. “It’s been a long day, Julien. Though you have soundly thrashed me tonight, I shall seek redress tomorrow. You’ll see that I’m not so easily vanquished.”

  “That I caught you off your guard for a moment doesn’t constitute a thrashing. Redress you shall certainly have.” He added with undisguised pride in his voice, “I’ve indeed been granted a most worthy opponent, even though you’re naught but a female.” He grinned at her.

  “You’re kind,” she blurted out, feeling suddenly strangely inadequate to express what she felt at his praise. She walked with great care to the desk to place her foil in the open case.

  He strode to her with the express intent of placing his foil beside hers. To his chagrin, she misunderstood his motive and backed away so quickly that she stumbled into the desk chair. His jaw tightened. His open, confiding Kate was gone behind a mask of fear. He turned his back to her and began carefully to cover the foils with the velvet cloth. He said in a rigidly controlled voice, “It’s getting quite late and you have had a rather strenuous day. I will see you in the morning.”

  There was no response. He turned to see her clutching the back of the chair, her face as white as her shirt.

  “Go to bed, damn you!” Why the devil didn’t she move? Was she trying to taunt him?

  25

  “I would, it’s just that, well, the fact is that just for the moment, only this particular instant, I can’t walk.” She lowered her head, near to tears with embarrassment and she didn’t want him to see it.

  “Damnation, what the devil?” He was at her side in an instant and drew her up against him. She cried out, and he picked her up in his arms and deposited her gently on the sofa. She lay back against the cushions and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, just give me but a few moments and I shall be fine. It’s all the activity. I’m not used to it, and—”

  “Enough falsehood. What the hell is the matter? Why can’t you walk? No, don’t you shake your head at me. I can see even more lies forming on your tongue. If you don’t tell me the truth this instant, I swear I’ll tear off your breeches and examine you.”

  “All right. That wretched peasant, he struck my leg with his stick when I jumped onto Gabriella’s back. But I assure you, Julien, it’s only a bruise, a small bruise, nothing to concern you. I bumped into the chair and made it hurt, but just a little bit.”

  He struck his forehead with his hand in disbelief and exasperation. “Woman, you would try the patience of my father, who wasn’t at all a saint but believed himself one. And you were foolish enough to fence with me with your leg hurt? I begin to believe your brain would fit neatly into a thimble.”

  Kate eased herself into a sitting position. “I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d not let us fence tonight, and I wanted to so very much. Please, Julien, I’m all right.”

  “Listen to me, dammit—no, this argument is quite ridiculous.” He lifted her in his arms, ignoring her protests. As he carried her up the stairs, she asked in a small voice, “You’re just taking me to my room, aren’t you?”

  “No, and just be quiet. I’m going to see just how foolish you’ve been. No, don’t argue with me. I’m going to look at your leg myself.” As she tensed perceptibly in his arms, he added, “I mean it. Just be silent for once in your life.”

  “Couldn’t you simply ask Mrs. Crayton?”

  “Be quiet.”

  She was laid very gently on her bed. “Don’t move. I will try not to hurt you, just hold still.” He unfastened her breeches and pulled them down. “Lift your hips.”

  She froze, staring at his face, but there was no lust there to be seen, no man’s desire, just determination and anger. She lifted her hips. He peeled the breeches to her knees, then looked at her leg. He cursed, long and fluently.

  The bruise had swollen and turned a deep purplish black. Gently he probed around the area and slowly moved his fingers to the swollen bruise. She stiffened in pain but made no sound. He straightened and stood quietly in frowning thought. He said final
ly, “I don’t think a doctor is necessary, but you will have to curb your activities for a while. Damnation, I still can’t believe this. Are you in pain now?”

  “Oh, no, I promise I’m not.”

  “Of course, I disbelieve you. I’ll send Maria to you with some laudanum in water. If you don’t drink it, it will go badly for you.”

  “Damnation, I could have pierced your heart at least five times in as many minutes. You must think constantly and observe me carefully. You aren’t fencing by yourself nor with a blind man. Never underestimate the skill of your opponent.”

  She stood panting with exertion, her face glistening with sweat. “Aye, you’re right.” It didn’t occur to her to take offense.

  “Lunge, withdraw! Lunge, withdraw!” She pushed herself until her arm trembled with fatigue.

  It was invariably Julien who halted their lessons, not Kate. After one day of enforced inactivity, she’d announced that she was fit as a fiddle and skipped several times in front of him to prove that her leg no longer pained her.

  He’d agreed to riding, which was more than she had hoped for, which she didn’t tell him, of course.

  During the next three days, their time had fallen into a comfortable pattern. They fenced in the mornings and explored the countryside surrounding the villa in the afternoons. Gabriella appeared to be favorably disposed toward Kate, her former life with the peasant forgotten.

  But to Kate, evenings with Julien were a trial. Each time Mrs. Crayton helped her to dress in one of her elegant gowns, she felt a sense of wariness descend upon her. No, it was more than that. It was something menacing and black and chill with foreboding. And yet, she felt it was Julien who was different. Dressed in his severely cut black evening clothes, he became a stranger to her, a threatening personage with frightening claims on her. If only their days could have ended after riding. She came to dread the hours passed in the soft candlelight, sensing in him a growing frustration, a barely restrained urgency. She would feel his gray eyes sweep over her, hungrily resting upon her mouth, then moving lower, to her breasts, devouring her. She cursed herself for showing fear, but she couldn’t help the disjointed and hasty excuse of tiredness she made every night even as she backed away from him, backed out of the room.