‘She was wonderful. The police will have to look elsewhere for their spy.’ He paused. ‘Your performance too was...most creditable.’
‘I can act a part when I have to.’
‘A part you play to perfection if I may say so.’
Indignation flared. ‘Yes, a part I play, and not at all what you think.’
Seeing the expression of amused scepticism that greeted these words, she squirmed inwardly. She was naked and in bed with a stranger in a brothel. Not what he thought? Dear heaven! He was only too justified in thinking it. Mortified now, she hurried on.
‘This was a necessary ruse. If there had been any other way I would have taken it.’
‘Of course.’ The tone was gently mocking like his smile.
Claudine gathered together the last shreds of her dignity. ‘I came here to meet Alain and to obtain the information he carried. The choice of venue was not mine. I would never have come here willingly any more than I would willingly have climbed into bed with you.’
She was unable to conceal the self-disgust she felt. However, Duval put a very different interpretation on her expression just then, and amusement ebbed. Despite his doubts she had indeed played her part well, but then the darkness hid all defects and she had been acting to save her life. The truth was that she found the thought of sexual congress with him to be abhorrent. The knowledge caused a sensation that was very like pain. He had thought himself past all this and it disturbed him to discover how far he was wrong. This woman had awoken something in him that he had believed dead. For a little while, in the forgiving darkness, he had thought she wanted him too. Now he felt angry with himself. His was no longer a face to attract the fair sex. That he had imagined such a woman might desire him was so pathetic it was laughable.
‘You need have no fear that I would force myself on you, chérie,’ he replied. ‘I prefer my women willing.’
The tone was perfectly even but she sensed the anger beneath. It served only to increase her shame. Mingled with it was an emotion that was disturbingly like regret.
Duval turned away and swung his legs over the side of the bed. When he had fastened his breeches he glanced over his shoulder.
‘Get dressed. We’re leaving as soon as the coast is clear.’
Claudine located her chemise and drew it on hurriedly. ‘I told you, I can take care of myself.’
She slid out of bed and reached for the pile of discarded clothing, supremely aware of the virile figure just feet away.
‘I gave my word to Alain and I mean to keep it,’ he replied.
‘You have already kept your word.’ She found her stays. ‘I am grateful, truly. But this is where we part company.’
‘We part company when I have delivered you safe on English soil. Now turn around.’
‘Why?’
‘So I can lace you up, why else?’ he growled. ‘Must you argue about everything?’
Claudine glared at him but, realising it would be impossible to manage alone, obeyed. ‘I do not argue about everything.’
His hands moved deftly to the task. ‘No?’
‘No. I was just telling you...’ She broke off with a startled gasp as the lacing was drawn tight.
‘I know full well what you were telling me and you can save your breath.’
‘I won’t have any breath at this rate.’
The laces slackened a little. ‘Better?’ Seeing her nod he fastened the stays and then stepped away to resume dressing. ‘I don’t intend to lose another English operative to
Fouché’s men.’
She donned her petticoat and reached for her gown. ‘Why burden yourself with me since I cannot please you in any way?’
‘You pleasing me or not is irrelevant.’
She sighed. ‘Look, I know you mean well...’
‘I mean to get you back to England.’
‘You can’t; not without my co-operation.’
‘Your co-operation would be useful, but it isn’t essential.’
Claudine stared at him. ‘I’m not sure I care for the implications of that.’
‘You’re right; you wouldn’t care for them at all.’
The words were casually spoken but something in his expression gave her pause. She had no idea what he was capable of and somehow didn’t care to test the matter. He saw her uncertainty and nodded.
‘You’ll come with me, Claudine.’
Unsettled by that steady gaze she looked away and glanced round for her hairpins. They were strewn across the floor, scattered in the haste of undressing. She knelt and began to retrieve the nearest ones. Although fully dressed now he made no attempt to help. Claudine, quietly fuming, continued the search, only too aware of the booted feet in her line of vision and the powerful figure above whose gaze seemed to burn into her back. The symbolism of their current positions didn’t escape her. She was equally sure it hadn’t escaped him either. Gritting her teeth she concentrated on her task. Eventually, when she had located enough pins, she got to her feet and moved away to the small mirror above the washstand.
For a moment or two she was startled by the face reflected there; by the rosy flush along her skin and the new sparkle in her eyes. Her lips were redder too and slightly swollen now. She could still feel Duval’s mouth on hers, the touch of his hands on her naked flesh. Those five minutes in his arms had left her with an aching need, with feelings she could not afford and dared not pursue.
Confused now, and annoyed with herself as well, she turned her attention to the task in hand. However, without a brush or a comb the options were limited. Moreover, she could still feel the weight of Duval’s gaze, intimate and unsettling. Hurriedly she drew her hair back and twisting it into a knot on the crown of her head, secured it there. The mirror revealed errant wisps curling around her neck and face. It was far from perfect but it would have to do.
Duval held out her cloak. He settled it over her shoulders and fastened it with unhurried deliberation. The gesture was both practical and quietly assertive. It was also unnerving, like his closeness now and the warmth of his fingers brushing against her skin.
He surveyed his handiwork and stepped back, meeting her gaze. ‘Come.’
Chapter Three
Having ascertained that the coast was clear Duval led her downstairs and through the house to the back door. Madame Renaud was waiting here. Duval dropped a kiss on her cheek.
‘Thank you. You were magnificent.’
‘From what I could see, you weren’t so bad yourself.’ She raised an eyebrow.
He grinned. ‘I take that as a compliment.’
‘So you should.’ She glanced at Claudine and her eyes gleamed. ‘I knew I was right all along.’
‘Right about what?’ asked Duval.
‘She can tell you later. You must get out of here while you can.’
Claudine paused on the threshold. ‘Thank you for what you did today.’
‘All part of the service.’ Madame Renaud jerked her head towards the deserted street. ‘Now go.’
The night air felt like an icy slap and Claudine shivered, clutching the edges of the cloak tighter. As soon as she and her companion had crossed the threshold, the door closed leaving them alone. Hearing it, she let out a long breath, never more thankful to leave a place in her life. Now all that remained was to get rid of Duval and put her own plans into execution. She turned to face him.
‘I’m truly grateful for what you did in there, but this is where we part.’
For answer he resumed his grip on her arm. ‘You’ll do as you’re told, my girl. We’re not out of this yet, not by a long way.’
There was no way of knowing how far away the police were, and, without making the kind of scene that might attract unwelcome attention, Claudine had no choice now but to go along with Duval. They s
et off down the street, she almost running to keep pace with his longer strides. Neither one spoke. Once she tested his hold but it was like a vice. The physical contact was also a tangible reminder of what had passed. Every part of her being resonated to it and filled her with conflicting emotions. She pushed them away ruthlessly. What was past could not be altered. Just now she needed to focus all her attention on removing herself from the sphere of his unwelcome presence as soon as possible.
As they neared the end of the street she saw the waiting carriage. There was no way she was going any further.
‘Please, you must listen to me...’
He might have been stone deaf. She was bundled unceremoniously into the waiting vehicle and pushed on to a seat. She heard him speak to the driver before climbing in and taking the place opposite hers. The carriage moved away. Claudine glared at her companion.
‘How dare you do this?’
‘You appear incapable of rational thought,’ he replied, ‘so I’m doing the thinking for both of us.’
‘I don’t need you or anyone else to think for me. I told you I had my own plans.’
‘Well, now you’re going to follow mine instead.’
The cool arrogance of this assertion was breath-taking. It was on the tip of her tongue to deliver a blistering reply but she bit it back. The words would roll off him like water from a duck’s feathers. Instead she met his gaze.
‘Where are we going?’
‘St Malo,’ he replied.
‘St Malo! But that’s days away.’
As if he hadn’t heard the interjection he continued, ‘From there I will arrange a passage to Jersey and thence to England.’
She knew that the Channel Islands were a favoured route into France for the British intelligence services. Even so, the thought of being shut up for the best part of a week with this man was beyond bearing.
‘I’ll be safe enough once we are out of Paris. I can...’
‘You’re coming with me. Get used to the idea.’
The tone was implacable, forbidding. Further argument would be fruitless since he was clearly impervious to reason, so Claudine lapsed into fuming silence, directing her attention to the window instead, watching the blur of streets and buildings as they sped past.
‘Don’t try giving me slip either,’ he continued. ‘I would find you very quickly and you wouldn’t enjoy the consequences.’
She lifted her chin. ‘No, but I’m sure you would. However, I have to tell you that you’re doomed to disappointment there.’
‘It’s reassuring to know you have that much sense anyway.’
‘I’m glad to have set your mind at rest.’
He surveyed her curiously. ‘By the way, what did Madame Renaud mean when she said she was right?’
A wave of warmth flushed her neck and cheeks. ‘I...it was nothing. A private joke.’
‘Yet she said you would tell me.’
‘Well, I’m not going to.’
Her gaze returned to the window and she missed the smile that flickered across his face.
* * *
A short time later the carriage began to slow. Glancing out of the window again Claudine’s horrified gaze took in the flaring links and armed uniformed figures by the barrier at the city gate. Her stomach lurched. In the excitement of recent events she had temporarily forgotten about the routine security inspections governing travellers. Appalled, she looked at Duval.
‘I have no documents. They are back in my apartment.’
‘I have the necessary paperwork,’ he replied. ‘All you have to do is stay calm and keep your mouth shut. No doubt it will be a novelty for you.’
Claudine stared at him in impotent and dumbfounded silence. The carriage stopped and she saw him lower the window and hand the requisite documentation to the waiting official. The latter perused the sheet and glanced up. Claudine’s heart thumped. Then he turned back to Duval.
‘Your wife?’
‘That’s correct.’
‘This is all in order, monsieur. You may pass.’
He handed the papers back and Duval returned them to the inner pocket of his coat. The officer touched his hat to Claudine and then called to his colleague. A moment later the barrier was raised and the carriage moved forward again. As it did so she let out the breath she had unconsciously been holding.
‘I don’t understand. How did you...’
Duval leaned back surveying her steadily. ‘I called in a favour. Do you think I’d have attempted to conduct a rescue without some kind of forward planning?’
‘No, I don’t suppose you would.’ She hesitated. ‘Those papers describe me as your wife?’
‘It was the most credible scenario I could think of, and the least likely to be challenged.’
‘Yes, I can see that.’ It was a detail that had other implications too, implications that caused a strange sensation in her stomach. She tried to see his expression but the dimly-lit interior made that difficult.
‘I’m glad.’ He paused. ‘By the way, what were those contingency plans you mentioned earlier?’
Her face burned. As if her stupid oversight wasn’t bad enough, it had just vindicated all his actions. How much he must be enjoying that.
‘It hardly matters now, does it?’
‘I’m just curious.’
‘You’re just gloating.’
She sensed rather saw him grin, and looked quickly away. The man was insufferable which made it doubly hard to be beholden to him. It would be pointless now to say that she’d never slipped up before today. One mistake was all it took and they both knew it. Her papers were in another reticule; she’d forgotten to transfer them before she left that evening and, after what had occurred, there would have been no possibility of going back for them. It was an elementary error but a potentially fatal one, and she could have kicked herself. No doubt it only served to reinforce his opinion that a woman alone couldn’t cope.
Realising she wasn’t going to be drawn further, he let it go. ‘It will be a while before we stop so you should try and get some sleep, my dear. I mean to do the same.’
Claudine watched him settle back in his seat and then summoned her self-possession. ‘Duval?’
‘Well?’
‘Thank you.’
Just for a second his expression registered surprise. ‘You’re welcome.’ With that he drew his hat down over the upper part of his face and settled back again, bringing the conversation to a close.
Claudine shifted back into her own corner, closing her eyes, letting her body relax a little. The events of the day seemed unreal, as though she were held fast in a strange and disturbing dream from which she could not awake. Had it not been for her companion the dream might easily have become nightmare. I can take care of myself. She had to admit that the words sounded hollow. Her companion might be one of the most arrogant and overbearing men she had ever met, but he had done her a great service all the same.
At some point amid these thoughts she must have drifted off because the next thing she knew the carriage had stopped and the night was full of voices. She came to with a start.
Glancing out of the window she could see an inn yard and the shadowy figures of the ostlers leading the team away. Then cold air hit her face as the door opened and Duval returned.
‘Where are we?’
‘Just outside St Germain,’ he replied.
‘Are we stopping here tonight?’
‘Only long enough to change the horses. I want to put a lot more distance between us and Paris before we rest.’
For once she had no wish to argue. Minutes later a fresh team was between the shafts and then they were on their way again. Since her companion seemed not disposed for conversation Claudine was left to her thoughts. Between that and drowsing occasionally the nex
t few hours passed in a blur. It was just before midnight when they stopped again at another inn.
Duval bespoke accommodation and conducted Claudine to hers, pausing a moment on the threshold. ‘Get some rest. Tomorrow will be a long day and we will be leaving early.’ He paused. ‘If you need me I’ll be in the next room.’
With that he left her, closing the door behind him. Claudine let out a long breath. It had occurred to her that he might try to take advantage of the situation in the light of what had already happened, but it seemed she was wide of the mark. He had made no further allusion to it. Perhaps like her he thought it was a complication they do without.
Since she had no belongings with her she was forced to make do with washing her hands and face. Then, having removed her gown she sat down on the bed and emptied her reticule. Apart from the pistol it contained a handkerchief and a handful of coins. At some point in the near future she was going to have to purchase a few necessities. There was nothing to be done about her clothes since the rest were in Paris. She smiled wryly. A few dresses were a small price to pay for her freedom, perhaps even her life. Having replaced the contents of the bag she climbed into bed and extinguished the candle.
The sheets were chilly and she shivered, drawing the covers higher. It was a pointed contrast with the last time, and her treacherous thoughts conjured the memory of a man’s warmth and a lean hard body pressed against hers. Unbidden she lifted a hand to her lips. She could still feel Duval’s kisses there. The recollection caused a pulse of heat in the region of her pelvis, and with it forbidden thoughts. She couldn’t go there, must not go there again. To do so would be disastrous and she mustn’t forget it.
* * *
They left early next morning. Thus far there had been no sign of pursuit, a circumstance for which Claudine was devoutly thankful. Now that the immediate sense of urgency was gone and since her companion was still disinclined for unnecessary conversation, she began to look about her with more interest. The carriage they were travelling in was surprisingly comfortable and the driver, Matthieu, highly experienced. At first she had assumed the man had merely been hired for this journey, but now she wasn’t so sure. Although he was courteous and deferential, his attitude towards Duval wasn’t that of a stranger. The relationship was more like master and trusted servant. He also seemed to know the route well; where they could change horses and where the decent inns were to be found. And then there was Duval himself. He was no common adventurer. She never heard him raise his voice, but when he spoke servants leapt into action. His whole manner was that of a man used to command and to being obeyed. He had the upright bearing of a military man but his movements were almost graceful and characterised by a touch of arrogance. Yet in spite of his intimidating manner he spoke like a gentleman.
The Caged Countess Page 3
