Return Of The Runaway

Cassie was exhausted. Raoul’s shoulder was so temptingly close and she leaned her head against it, watching through half-closed eyes as the woman poked the fire into life and added more wood. Soon the pungent smell of the fish filled the room. Cassie’s eyes began to smart and she closed them, but then it was too much trouble to open them again and she dozed until Raoul gave her a little nudge.

‘Wake up now. You must eat something.’

Sleepily Cassie sat up to find a small table had been pushed in front of them and it was set now with plates and horn cups. They dined on salt herring and bread, but when the old woman offered them some of her white brandy Raoul refused, politely but firmly.

‘Would it be so very bad?’ Cassie murmured when their hostess went off to fetch them some water.

‘Very likely,’ he replied, ‘but even if it is drinkable, to take it with the herring would give you a raging thirst.’

She accepted this without comment. She did not like the fish very much, but the bread was fresh and Cassie made a good meal. When it was finished the old woman cleared everything away. Raoul took a few coins out of his pocket and held them out.

‘Thank you, Mother, for your hospitality. There is double this if you will let us sleep on your floor tonight.’

The old crone’s eyes gleamed. ‘Double it again and I’ll let ye have the paillasse.’

Cassie glanced from the woman to the bed in the corner and could barely suppress a shudder at the thought of what might be crawling amongst the straw. To her relief Raoul did not hesitate to decline her offer.

‘We would not take your cot, Mother, nor your covers. We shall be comfortable enough before the fire.’

She shrugged and took the coins from his palm.

‘As you please.’

The old woman banked up the fire and cleared a space before it, even going so far as to find a threadbare rug to put on the ground. Raoul went outside to attend to the horse and the old woman gave Cassie a toothless smile.

‘You’ve got yourself a good man there, madame.’

‘What? Oh—oh, yes.’ Cassie nodded. She was too tired to try and explain that they were not married.

* * *

When Raoul returned the old woman blew out the lamp and retired to her bed with her flask of brandy, leaving her guests to fend for themselves before the fire. There was no privacy and they both lay down fully dressed on the old rug. Raoul stretched out on his back and linked his hands behind his head.

‘Do not fret,’ he murmured. ‘I shall not touch you.’

Cassie did not deign to reply to his teasing tone. She curled up on her side with her back to Raoul. She was nearest the fire and glad of the heat from the dying embers, but she could not relax. She was far too on edge, aware of Raoul’s body so close to her own. He was so big, and rough and...male. Gerald had been more of a gamester than a sportsman. He had been fastidious about his dress and she had never seen him with more than a slight shadow of stubble on his face. That is what she had loved about him; he had always looked like the perfect gentleman. She stirred, uncomfortable with the thought that he had not always acted like a gentleman.

Not that it mattered now, Gerald was dead and she would have to make her own way in the world. Sleepily she wondered why she had not told Raoul she was a widow. After all, it could make no difference to him, since as far as he was aware her husband was still in Verdun. But some deep, unfathomable instinct told her Raoul Doulevant was an honourable man. Now her hands came together and she fingered the plain wedding band. It was little enough protection, but it was all she had.

Cassie lay still, tense and alert until she heard Raoul snoring gently. The old woman had told them it was a full day’s walk from here to Reims, so by tomorrow they would be in the city and she could be rid of her ragged companion. She closed her eyes. The sooner dawn came the better.

* * *

Cassie stirred. She was still lying on her side, facing the fire which had died down to a faint glow, and the room was in almost total darkness. She reached down to make sure the skirts of her riding habit were tucked around her feet, but she could feel the chill of the night air through the sleeves of her jacket. She tried rubbing her arms, but that did not help much. She sighed.

‘What is the matter?’ Raoul’s voice was no more than a sleepy whisper in the darkness.

‘I am cold.’

He shifted closer, curving his body around hers and putting his arm over her. The effect was startling. Heat spread quickly through her body and with it a sizzling excitement. It did not matter that Raoul was dressed in rough homespun clothes, or that his ragged beard tickled her neck, her pulse leapt erratically as he curled himself about her.

‘Is that better?’

Cassie swallowed. She could not reply, her throat had dried, her breasts strained against the confines of her jacket. She was wrapped in the arms of a man, a stranger. Even worse, she wanted him to kiss and caress her. Heavens she should move away, immediately! But somehow she could not make her body obey, and the idea of lying cold and alone for the remainder of the night was not at all appealing. It was confusing, to feel so secure, yet so vulnerable, all at the same time.

Raoul’s arm tightened, pulling them closer together. So close she could feel his breath on her cheek, feel his body close against hers. She should protest, she should object strongly to being held in this way, but she was so warm now, so comfortable. The initial burning excitement had settled into a sense of wellbeing. She had never felt so safe before, or so warm. She felt a smile spreading out from her very core.

‘Oh, yes,’ she murmured sleepily. ‘Oh, yes, that is much better.’

* * *

Raoul lay very still, listening to Cassie’s gentle, regular breathing. It was taking all his willpower not to nuzzle closer and nibble the delightful shell-like ear, to keep his hands from seeking out the swell of her breasts. He uttered up a fervent prayer of thanks that the thick folds of her skirts prevented her knowing just how aroused he was to have her lying with him in this way.

He had been too long without a woman. How else could he explain the heat that shot through him whenever they touched? Even when she looked at him he was aware of a connection, as if they had known each other for ever. Fanciful rubbish, he told himself. She was a spoiled English aristo and he despised such women. By heaven, at eight-and-twenty he was too old to fall for a pair of violet-blue eyes, no matter how much they sparkled. And there was no doubt that Lady Cassandra’s eyes sparkled quite exceptionally, so much so they haunted his dreams, as did the delightful curves of her body. Even now he wanted to explore those curves, to run his fingers over the dipping valley of her waist, the rounded swell of her hips and the equally enchanting breasts that he judged would fit perfectly into his hands.

He closed his eyes. This was nothing short of torture, to keep still while he was wrapped around this woman. He turned his mind to consider how he must look to her, with his dirty clothes and unkempt hair. She must think him a rogue, a vagabond. He was not fit to clean her boots.

And yet here she was, sleeping in his arms.

Chapter Three

They quit the cottage soon after dawn and followed the narrow track through the woods that the old woman told them would bring them to the highway a few miles to the west of Reims. They rode and walked by turns as the sun moved higher in the clear blue sky, but although Cassandra was cheerful enough her companion was taciturn, even surly, and after travelling a few miles in silence she taxed him with it. They were walking side by side at that point and Cassie decided it would be easier to ask the question now, rather than when they were on horseback. For some inexplicable reason when she was sitting within the circle of his arms it was difficult to think clearly.

She said now, ‘You have scarce said a dozen civil words to me since we set out, monsieur. Have I offended you in some way?’

‘If you must know I did not sleep well.’

‘Oh.’ Something in his tone sent the blood rushing to her cheeks as Cassie realised that she might have been the cause. She had woken at dawn to find they were still curled up together but even more intimately, his cheek resting against her hair and one of those strong, capable hands cradling her breast. It was such a snug fit she thought they might have been made for one another. A preposterous idea, but at the time it had made her want to smile. Now it only made her blush. He had still been sleeping when she had slipped out of his unconscious embrace and she had said nothing about it, hoping he would not remember, but perhaps he had been more aware of how they had slept together than she had first thought.

Cassie closed her eyes as embarrassment and remorse swept over her like a wave. If eloping with Gerald had dented her reputation, what had happened to her since leaving Verdun was like to smash it completely.

Raoul Doulevant cleared his throat.

‘How long have you been in France, milady?’

He was trying to give her thoughts a different turn and she responded gratefully.

‘Just over a year. Gerald and I travelled to Paris last summer, shortly after we were married. The Treaty of Amiens had opened the borders and we joined the fashionable throng. Then, in May this year, the Peace ended.’

‘Ah, yes.’ He nodded. ‘Bonaparte issued instructions that every Englishman between the ages of sixteen and sixty should be detained.’

‘Yes.’

Cassie fell silent, unwilling to admit that she had already been regretting her hasty marriage. She had stayed and supported her husband, even though he had given her little thanks for it after the first anxious weeks of his detention.

‘But now you return to England without him. I had heard the English in Verdun lived very comfortably.’

‘Only if they have money. Our funds were running very low.’

‘Ah. So now your husband’s fortune has gone you have abandoned him.’

‘No!’ She bit her lip. She should correct him, tell him it was her money they had lived on, that she was now a widow, but the words stuck in her throat. Pride would not let her admit how wrong she had been, how foolish. Instead she said haughtily, ‘You have no right to judge me.’

‘Why, because I am not your equal, my lady?’

‘You are impertinent, monsieur. I had expected better manners from a doctor.’

‘But I have told you I am not a doctor. I am a surgeon.’

‘But clearly not a gentleman!’

A heavy silence followed her words, but she would not take them back. An angry frown descended upon Raoul’s countenance, but he did not speak. Cassie kept pace with him, head high, but his refusal to respond flayed her nerves. She tried telling herself that it was better if they did not talk, that it was safer to keep a distance, yet she found the silence unbearable and after a while she threw a question at him.

‘If you are no deserter, why are you being pursued?’

‘That need not concern you.’

Cassie knew his retort was no more than she deserved, after what she had said to him. Her temper had subsided as quickly as it was roused; she knew it was wise to keep a distance from this man, but that did not mean they had to be at odds.

She tried to make amends by saying contritely, ‘I beg your pardon if my words offended you, monsieur, but you must admit, your appearance, your situation... We shall have a miserable journey if we do not discuss something.’

There, she had apologised, but when he said nothing she glanced at his angry countenance and thought ruefully that his pride was equal to hers. They were not suited as travelling companions. Cassie walked on beside him, resigned to the silence, but presently the strained atmosphere between them changed. The black cloud lifted from his brow and he began to speak.

‘A year ago—about the time that you came to France—I quit the navy and went to Paris to live with my sister Margot. She and her husband had taken me in when I had gone there ten years before to study at the Hôtel-Dieu under the great French surgeon, Desault. Margot was widowed three years ago, so by moving into her house I thought I could support her. Unfortunately last winter she caught the eye of a minor official in Paris, one Valerin. Margo did not welcome his attentions and I told him so. He did not like it.’

‘You were rather rough with him, perhaps,’ she observed sagely.

‘Yes. I came home one night and found him trying to force himself upon Margot. I threw him out of the house and broke his nose into the bargain. That was my mistake. Life became difficult, we were suspected of being enemies of the state, the house was raided several times. It became so bad that a couple of months ago I sent Margot to Brussels. I planned to follow her, once I had wound up my affairs in Paris, but Valerin was too quick for me. He accused me of being a deserter. When I looked for my papers they had gone, taken during one of the house raids, I suppose, and when I applied to the prefect to see the record of my discharge the files were missing.’

‘And could no one vouch for you?’

He shrugged. ‘My old captain, possibly, but he is at sea. A response from him could take months. I thought it best to leave Paris. And just in time. I was still making my preparations when Valerin came with papers for my arrest and I was forced to flee with nothing. He was so intent upon my capture that he sent word to the Paris gates, which is why you find me dressed en paysan and, as you put it, looking like a bear.’

Cassie bit her lip.

‘I should not have said that of you. I am in no position to preach to you now, monsieur.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘I have never been so dirty. What I would give for clean linen!’

‘I fear that will have to wait until we reach Reims, madame.’

* * *

They kept to the woodland paths and avoided the main highways. It made the journey longer, but Raoul was anxious to avoid meeting anyone who might ask for their papers. Their only food was some fruit, wine and bread they purchased from a woodsman’s cottage and at noon they stopped on a ridge, sitting on a fallen tree to eat their frugal meal.

‘Is that Reims ahead of us?’ asked Cassie, pointing to the roofs and spires in the distance.

‘It is. We shall be there before dark, milady.’ He sensed her anxiety and added, ‘I shall see you safe to a priest, or a nunnery, madame, before I leave you.’

‘Thank you.’ She sighed. ‘Travelling alone is very perilous for a lady.’

She was trying to make light of it, but he was not deceived. She was frightened, as well she should be. It was no good to tell himself she was not his responsibility, Raoul’s conscience told him otherwise. He made an attempt to stifle it, saying harshly, ‘You should have thought of that before you left your husband.’

He glanced down at her and saw that she was close to tears. The urge to take her in his arms was so great that he clenched his fists and pressed them into his thighs. He searched for something to say.

‘Why did you elope with him?’

One dainty hand fluttered.

‘He was handsome and charming, and he swept me off my feet. Grandmama, who is my guardian, said I was too young, but I thought I knew better. When Gerald suggested we should elope I thought it would be a great adventure. I do not expect you to understand, but life in Bath was very...tame. Oh, there were parties and balls and lots of friends, but it was not enough. I wanted excitement. Gerald offered me that.’

‘No doubt being in an enemy country and detained at Verdun has given you a surfeit of excitement.’

She frowned a little, considering.

‘One would have thought so, but do you know, it was not so very different from Bath. There are so many English people there and they are determined to carry on very much as they always do. There are parties and assemblies, race meetings and gambling dens, everyone finding silly or frivolous entertainments to fill the time. In truth it is a very a foolish way to live. To be perfectly honest, I was bored.’

Raoul watched her. She had clearly forgotten to whom she was talking, there was no reserve as the words poured forth and when she turned her head and smiled up at him, completely natural and unaffected, it shook him to the core. He had the very disturbing sensation of his whole world tilting. The ground beneath him turned to quicksand and it threatened to consume him. It was not that she was trying to attract him, quite the opposite. Her look was trusting and friendly, and it cut through his defences like a sword through paper.

He dragged his eyes away. He needed to repair his defences, to put up the barriers again.

* * *

Cassie sucked in a ragged breath, unsure what had just happened to her. In telling Raoul about her elopement she had opened her soul to him in a way she had never done with anyone before. Even when she had thought herself hopelessly in love with Gerald she had never felt such a connection as she did with this dark stranger. It frightened her.

He rose, saying gruffly, ‘We should go, we still have several hours travelling to reach Reims.’

Cassie nodded and followed him towards the horse. His voice was perfectly composed. He had not commented, displayed no emotion at what she had told him. No doubt he thought her an idle, frivolous woman, worthy only of contempt. When he sprang into the saddle and put his hand out to her she glanced up at his face, an anxious frown creasing her brow.

‘No doubt you think me a silly creature. Contemptible.’

The black eyes gave nothing away.

‘What I think of you is unimportant,’ he said shortly. ‘Come, let us press on.’

* * *

The afternoon grew warmer as they made their way towards Reims and the bay’s walking pace slowed to an amble. The city was lost to sight as they descended into a wooded valley where the air was warm and filled with the trill of birdsong. It was enchanting, reminding Cassie of hot summer days in England, but much as she wanted to share her thoughts with her companion she held back, knowing she must keep a proper distance. She had already told him far too much and feared she had earned his disapproval. Her spirit flared in momentary rebellion. Well, let him disapprove, it did not matter to her in the least.

When at last they dismounted she was thankful that the rough path was wide enough to walk with the horse between them. There must be no accidental brushing of the hands and heaven forbid that he should be gentleman enough to offer her his arm, for she would have to refuse and that might give rise to offence. How difficult it was to maintain propriety in this wilderness! The heat in the valley was oppressive and the sun beat down upon her bare head. She sighed, regretting the loss of her bonnet.

‘Are you tired, milady?’

‘No, merely hot and a little uncomfortable.’ She unfastened the neck button of her shirt. Even that was an indiscretion, she knew, but a very minor one, considering her situation.

‘Would you like to rest in the shade for a while?’

‘Thank you, but I would prefer to keep going and reach Reims. Perhaps there we can find some clean clothes.’ She could not help adding, ‘For both of us.’

His breath hissed out. ‘Does my dirty raiment offend you, milady?’

‘No more than my own,’ she replied honestly. ‘We are both in need of a good bath. I suppose it cannot be helped when one is travelling.’

He came to a halt.

‘An answer may be at hand,’ he said. ‘Listen.’

‘What is it? I cannot—’

But he was already pushing his way through the thick bushes. Cassie followed and soon heard the sound of rushing water. It grew louder, but they had gone some way from the path before they reached the source of the noise. Cassie gave a little gasp of pure pleasure.

They were on the edge of a natural pool. It was fed by a stream tumbling down the steep cliff on the far side and the midday sun glinted on the falling water, turning the spray into a glistening rainbow.

‘Oh, how beautiful!’

‘Not only beautiful, milady, but convenient. We can bathe here.’

‘What? Oh, no, I mean—’

Cassie broke off, but her blushes only deepened when Raoul gave her a scornful look.

‘You have warm air and clean water here, madame, I cannot conjure an army of servants for you, too. I am going to make the most of what nature has given us. I suggest you do, too.’

He tethered the horse and began to strip off his clothes, throwing his shirt into the pool to wash it. Cassie knelt on the bank and dipped her hands into the water. It was crystal clear and deliciously cool against her skin. From the corner of her eye she saw that Raoul had now discarded all his clothes. She looked away quickly, but not before she had noted the lean athletic body. How wrong she had been to describe him as a bear, she thought distractedly. There was only a shadowing of hair on his limbs with a thicker covering on his chest, like a shield that tapered down towards...

Oh, heavens! She must not even think of that.

She heard the splash as he dived into the pool and only then did she risk looking up again. Raoul was a strong swimmer, sending diamond droplets flying up as he surged through the water and away from her. For a moment she envied him his freedom before berating herself as a ninny. He had said she should make use of what he had termed nature’s gift and she would. The pool was large enough to keep out of each other’s way. There were several large bushes at the edge of the water and she moved behind one of them to divest herself of her riding habit. She shook out the jacket and the full skirts and draped them over the bush where they could air in the sunshine, then she followed Raoul’s example and tossed her shirt into the water. Once she had removed her corset she did the same with her shift, then she knelt at the side of the pool and washed the fine garments as best she could before wringing them out and hanging them over another convenient shrub. The sun was so high and strong she thought they would both be quite dry by the time she had bathed herself.

The pool was shallower in the secluded spot she had chosen and the cold on her hot skin made her gasp as she stepped in. Cautiously she walked away from the bank until the water was just over waist deep and she lowered herself until only her head was above the surface. Now her body was submerged she felt more comfortable. She moved into slightly deeper water and closed her eyes, feeling the heat of the sun on her face. Her body felt weightless, rocking with the gentle movement of the water, cleansing, relaxing.

‘There, do you not feel better?’

Cassie gave a little scream. Raoul was only feet away from her, his wet hair plastered to his head and his eyes gleaming with laughter.

‘G-go away, if you please,’ Cassie ordered him, praying the sun glinting on the surface of the water would prevent him from seeing her naked body. ‘Pray, go and wash your clothes, sir, and let me be private.’

‘I came to tell you I have been standing beneath the waterfall,’ he said, ignoring her request. ‘It is refreshing, I think you will like it.’

‘No, thank you.’

‘Why not? I will stay here, if you wish to be alone.’

‘I want to be alone here,’ she said, trying to keep her voice calm. The amusement in his eyes deepened and she glared at him. ‘Go away. I wish to dress. Now.’

‘But your linen cannot be dry yet.’

‘That is my concern, not yours.’

‘It is not far to swim across to the waterfall. You would feel better for the exercise.’

‘Most definitely I should not.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘You cannot swim.’ When she did not reply he reached out to her. ‘Let me teach you.’

‘No!’ The word came out as a squeak. ‘You c-cannot teach me.’

‘It is very easy.’

She shook her head, backing away a little, towards the bank, but having to crouch down in the shallower water.