Return of the Runaway (19 page)

But even as he watched Cassie pouring coffee for them both his body told a different tale. He could not forget those dainty hands clinging to him, the cherry-red lips fastened against his mouth, the slender body that was now clothed in demure linen pressed against his own, flesh upon flesh.

How he got through breakfast he could never afterwards remember. They talked of mundane matters like the weather, the possibility of rain, the excellence of their simple repast, but Raoul's head was bursting with words he dare not utter, lest he should see disdain or revulsion in her face.

* * *

As the breakfast dishes were being cleared away the landlord appeared and handed Raoul a note. ‘This came for you,
monsieur
.' He dropped his voice. ‘I brought it up myself, I would not entrust it to a servant in these uncertain times.'

Raoul pressed a coin into the landlord's hand and put the note in his pocket. He did not take it out again until the last of the servants had departed.

Across the table Cassie was impatient for information.

‘What is it?' she asked. ‘Is it from Wolfgang?'

‘It is.' Raoul scanned the sheet, frowning. ‘He says Valerin's men are patrolling the harbour and the guards have been doubled on all the roads out of Dieppe. Word is out that they are looking for a desperate criminal and they should not hesitate to shoot.'

A chill fear spread through Cassie.

‘You think that means you?'

‘Who else?'

She watched him tear the paper and throw it into the fire, where the pieces flared and burned.

‘What will you do?' she asked him.

‘Take you to the church of St Valery, as we agreed. Arrandale is sending someone to fetch us and show us a safe way out of the town.' He smiled. ‘We will get you to your ship, never fear.'

‘I am not worried for myself, Raoul.'

‘You are all goodness, milady.' He picked up her hand and kissed it lightly. Cassie wanted to cling, to say something about what had happened in the night, but before she could find the words he had dropped her hand and was turning away, saying cheerfully, ‘Now, we have the day to ourselves. Shall we sally forth and see how good Valerin's guards really are?'

‘But if they are looking for you—'

‘They will be looking for a skulking villain, not a gentleman enjoying the sunshine with his lady wife. Come, put on your bonnet and veil and let us go out.'

* * *

The town was even busier than the previous day. They strolled towards the quay and Cassie discovered that if anything was needed to make her forget the wonder of the night it was the effort of walking past the numerous
gendarmes
as if she had not a care in the world. True, she had her veil to hide her countenance, but she had to work hard not to grip tightly to Raoul's arm every time an officer glanced their way. She was constantly on the alert, looking out for Valerin. Raoul, by contrast, appeared totally at his ease. They made no attempt to approach the
Prométhée
, but even from a distance Cassie could see two men lounging at the foot of the gangplank and whenever anyone approached the ship they immediately stopped and questioned them.

‘It would appear Valerin is taking no chances,' Raoul murmured. He gently guided Cassie away from the waterfront. ‘I am indebted to your cousin for visiting Captain Belfort in my stead last night. Let us take a look at the other routes we might use to leave this town.'

They spent the day wandering through Dieppe, listening to the gossip in the market and noting the number of
gendarmes
at each of the gates leading out of the town.

* * *

By the time they returned to the inn for dinner Cassie was exhausted and it was a struggle to eat the delicious meal put before them.

‘There are some hours before we will be leaving here,' remarked Raoul, noting her fatigue. ‘We should try to sleep.'

His words immediately brought back memories of being in his bed and she felt herself blushing.

‘You think I want a repeat of this morning?' His lip curled. ‘I may not be a gentleman in your eyes, milady, but I have my own code of honour.'

‘Forgive me, I did not mean—that is—' She stumbled over the words, distressed that he should misunderstand her, but he was already walking away to the dressing room, closing the door firmly between them.

Cassie lay down upon the covers. The comfort she had gained in his arms and the embraces they had shared seemed long ago. It had been a mistake, to throw herself at him in that way. She curled herself into a ball and nestled her cheek on her hand. What a fool she was to give in to a passion she knew only too well would fade and die. Well, she had her memory and perhaps in time it would not matter that she had sacrificed his respect to get it.

* * *

‘Wake up, milady. We must leave.'

Raoul gently touched Cassie's shoulder. He watched her stretch and roll on to her back as her eyes fluttered open. She gazed up at him, looking so innocent, so vulnerable in the golden glow of the candles that it was as much as he could do not to place a kiss on her lips, parted now in the beginnings of a smile. She would not welcome it, so instead he stepped back and held out his hand to her,

‘Madame?'

Perversely she did not approve his polite behaviour. Her face became a mask. She ignored his hand and slid off the bed, shaking out her skirts.

‘Very well. Give me five minutes to collect my things.'

‘One small bag only,' he reminded her. ‘We cannot carry more.'

* * *

The landlord's son, Gaston, was waiting for them in the stables.

‘You are our guide?' asked Raoul.

The lad grinned.

‘Trust me,
monsieur
, it is not the first time I have helped people to leave the town. Let us collect your horses.'

They discovered their mounts ready and waiting for them and Gaston quickly fixed Cassie's small portmanteau to her saddle. When he took Raoul's saddlebags he swore roundly.

‘By our lady, this is too heavy. Do you want to kill the horse?'

Raoul thought of the surgeon's box squeezed into the saddle bag.

‘It is the tools of my trade,' he said. ‘I must have them with me.'

* * *

Cassie's spirits lifted a little at his words. Raoul would not be taking the tools if he did not truly value them. It was a small comfort, but comfort nevertheless. As they led the horses out of the stables she noticed that each hoof was wrapped in cloth.

‘We must walk them through the town,' explained Gaston. ‘Quietly now.'

They followed the boy through a series of dark, deserted alleys, keeping away from the main streets. The dirt from the day's traffic was thick beneath their feet and Cassie was grateful for her serviceable boots. The night was very dark, the moon no more than a thin line in the sky, and Cassie found herself thinking that in a couple more days there would be no moon at all to light their way. A final, noisome alley ended at a large ramshackle building.

‘My uncle's house,' Gaston informed them in a whisper. ‘You will not see him tonight, but he has a very useful barn.'

He led them towards a wooden outhouse and opened one of the large doors for them to pass inside. When the door closed behind them the darkness was almost complete. Cassie knew a moment of chilling fear before she felt Raoul's hand close around hers, warm and comforting.

Gaston's voice came softly through the blackness.

‘Wait here.'

They heard the lad moving around and suddenly a large panel in the back wall slid aside to reveal a small orchard.

‘Walk your horses through the trees to the gate on the far side. The track there leads to open ground and a coast path to the church of St Valery.'

‘Thank you,' Cassie began, ‘We are most grateful—'

‘There is more,' the boy interrupted her. ‘The open ground is overlooked by the castle and there may be lookouts keeping watch.' He pointed. ‘Head
away
from the coast once you are in the open. That will take you over the rise and out of sight of the lookouts in the quickest possible time. Keep going until you reach the crossroads, you cannot mistake it, there is a gibbet swinging there. Only then should you head back towards the coast. Ride like the wind,' he told them. ‘There is always a chance that the soldiers will not see you.'

He beckoned to them to follow him into the orchard and helped them remove the cloth from the horses' hoofs before wishing them
bonne chance
and disappearing into the black shadows of the barn. The barn wall slid back in place and they were alone amongst the apple trees. As they began to walk away from the buildings Cassie felt her anxiety growing about their forthcoming ride. She was reluctant to ask Raoul if he was nervous, but he said, as if reading her mind, ‘If anything happens and we are separated, you know the directions. Head for the church of St Valery and meet your cousin there.'

‘You think there might be trouble?'

She saw his teeth gleam in the darkness.

‘When we ride across that open ground under the castle walls we will be perfect targets.'

She tried to smile. ‘Let us hope they are very poor shots.'

They continued in silence until they reached the gate, where Raoul turned to Cassie.

‘Let me throw you up.'

‘No, wait.' She caught his arm. ‘Raoul, in case...in case anything should happen, I wanted to thank you. For last night.'

The shadow cast by his hat was too deep for her to see his face, but she had to continue, to let him know what it had meant to her. She forced herself to continue.

‘I d-did not know being with a man could be so...satisfying. Thank you.'

She was aware of how woefully inadequate the words were to express her feelings, but at least she had tried. She sighed and was about to turn away when Raoul's hand came out and cupped her cheek. Gently he drew her into his arms, but when their lips met there was nothing gentle about his kiss. It was ruthless, demanding and it left her breathless. As he raised his head she remained within the circle of his arms, her head thrown back against his shoulder, gazing up into his shadowed face. His eyes gleamed with a fiery spark.

‘If you thought last night was good, milady, you are woefully mistaken,' he told her. ‘Only let us get through this alive and I will show you how good lovemaking can be.'

With something that was halfway between a sob and a laugh Cassie threw her arms about his neck and dragged his head down for another bruising kiss. There would be no more lovemaking, they both knew it, but she was grateful and comforted by his teasing words.

The soft breeze rustled the leaves, a whispered reminder that time was pressing. Reluctantly they broke apart and Raoul threw Cassie up into the saddle. He waited for her to arrange her skirts and checked the girth before he mounted upon his own horse. They trotted along the narrow lane, but drew rein when the track petered out into open ground. Cassie glanced back. Now they were away from the houses she could see the massive black edifice of the castle looming behind them.

‘Remember,' said Raoul, ‘we go that way, up the rise and on to the crossroads. Do not stop. Whatever happens, you are to make your way to the church, do you understand me? Now, are you ready?'

Cassie gathered up the reins and dragged in a long, steadying breath. They would be riding for their lives.

‘Ready.'

The horses sprang forward and they were away, galloping across the springy turf. Cassie's cloak billowed out behind her, the strings tugging at her neck. Raoul's horse was bigger and stronger, but he remained at Cassie's shoulder and she realised that Raoul was deliberately holding back, putting himself between her and any marksman firing from the castle. The thought made her feel quite sick with fear and she fought against it, forcing herself to concentrate upon the ride ahead of them. The ground rose steadily, but to Cassie's overstretched nerves they seemed to be getting no closer to the top. Her heart leapt into her mouth when she heard the first crackle of shots behind them. She put her head down and urged the little mare to go faster, chillingly aware that Raoul presented the better target. Another brattle of musketry and she could not bear it, she had to take a quick glance behind. Raoul was still at her shoulder. His cloak, too, was flying out from his shoulders and she prayed any marksman taking aim would be distracted by its fluttering folds.

The shooting continued, but it was fading and she hoped they were out of range now. The mare was tiring, but they had at last crested the ridge and the land began to drop away. As soon as the town and the castle were hidden by the rise Cassie slackened her pace and turned to ask Raoul the question that was uppermost in her mind.

‘Are you hurt?'

‘Not a whit,' he said. The horses had slowed to a walk and he added, ‘Would you care?'

A smile was growing inside Cassie, a mixture of relief that the immediate danger was past, elation from the gallop and the sheer joy of being with Raoul. Now as she turned to look at him that joy blazed forth and she did not care if he saw the raw emotion shining from her countenance.

‘You know I would.'

She put out her hand and he took it, smiling at her in a way that set her heart pounding and it leapt into her throat, sending her senses reeling when she read the message in his eyes. Even in the faint light of the setting moon it was unmistakable. Love.

* * *

The shock of revelation took Raoul's breath away. Here, on a lonely, windswept heath in the dead of night, he knew with certain, blinding clarity that he loved Lady Cassandra Witney. For the moment nothing else mattered, only that searing, soaring realisation. His heart was almost bursting with the joy of it and it was with some difficulty that he dragged his thoughts back to the present. The blazing look had died from Cassie's face, replaced by a sadness that sobered him. He was still holding her hand and now he squeezed her fingers.