Return of the Runaway (17 page)

Raoul did not move. She stood before him, head high, every inch a haughty aristo, but the hand holding the candles was not quite steady. Perhaps it was the wavering flames that made the air shimmer around them, but he could feel the tension, too, so great it was almost visible, yet even so he was aware that their whole future was balanced on a knife's edge. One false move, one unwise word and he would knock the candles aside and drag her into his arms.

He would kiss her until she succumbed to the passion he knew she possessed. It was simmering just beneath the surface. The temptation was almost overpowering. He wanted to hold her again, to taste her, to have her body soft and yielding beneath his. Just once. But the consequences of that would be too great.
He
might walk away afterwards and immerse himself in his work, but what if he were to send Cassie back to England carrying his child?

Slowly and with infinite care he reached out and took the candlestick, making sure their fingers did not touch.

‘Goodnight, milady.'

Just uttering those two words had been agony. Raoul turned and walked out of the room, every step an effort, his body stiff and burning with desire.

* * *

‘Good morning,
monsieur
.'

Cassie greeted Raoul with cheerful politeness, determined that he should not guess the miserable night she had spent tossing and turning in her bed. Her dreams had been troubled by memories of her husband's infidelity. Even his death had been a betrayal, a duel fought over another woman, and Cassie awoke several times in the night, feeling wounded and defenceless, afraid to trust anyone. The dawn had brought resolution and she had fixed her mind on her return to England. Raoul Doulevant must be kept at a distance. He was a paid escort, nothing more, and must be treated as such.

While they breakfasted on hot, fresh bread washed down by scalding coffee they discussed their plans for the day. Raoul told her his first task was to ascertain if the
Prométhée
had docked.

‘I think I shall do a little shopping,' she responded, keeping her tone light, as if she was discussing a trip to Bond Street. ‘I would like to find a bonnet and veil.'

‘You could ask the landlady to direct you,' Raoul suggested. ‘I have already given them to understand that your maid and the rascally postilion have absconded with our baggage coach, so she would not be surprised at the question.'

* * *

Cassandra's errand was soon complete. She made her way to the shop recommended by the landlady, where the milliner commiserated with her upon the loss of her bags and was only too happy for her to make use of the mirror to fix the neat little bonnet over her dusky curls and arrange the veil. She also purchased a new reticule to complete the outfit. Thus attired, Cassie sallied forth and spent a pleasant hour or two browsing the shops and market stalls. Her purse was growing woefully thin. There was barely enough in it now to pay her way on the long journey home. However, when she came upon a stall selling a miscellany of goods she stopped. The stallholder hailed her with bluff good humour.

‘Ah,
madame
, with what can I tempt you this bright morning? A pretty looking glass for your wall, or this fine bracket clock from the Netherlands? Or perhaps this sable-lined cloak, fit for a duchess. Everything was acquired honestly,
madame
,' he assured her, grinning. ‘These days there are many who are only too glad to part with their possessions. After all, what good are such things if one cannot afford to eat?'

Cassie pointed to the large, leather-covered box that had caught her eye. ‘That case—'

‘This one? Why, 'tis is an old surgeon's set,
madame
. You see, it still contains the tools of his trade. It is a little worn, but it would make a fine addition to your baggage. As a dressing case, perhaps.' He added quickly, sensing a sale. ‘I could remove the instruments—'

‘No, no it is for a medical man.' She stared at the case. ‘Where did you get it?'

‘Where? It was amongst the goods sold by a bankrupt to pay his debts,
madame
.'

‘And how much do you want for it?'

A sly look came into the man's eyes.

‘Ah, now, here's the thing,' he said. ‘I thought perhaps I might take it to the hospital in Rouen. There are many doctors and surgeons there who would pay me a good price for such a set...'

Cassie unfastened the chain about her neck.

‘I will trade you the case and its contents for this chain and locket.' She held it out to him. ‘It is solid gold and that is a real ruby embedded in the locket. It will fetch you a very good price.'

The man studied the locket, weighed it in his hand before shaking his head.

‘Nay,
madame
, the surgeon's set is worth twice what this would fetch.'

Cassie was not accustomed to bargaining, but she had a stubborn streak and she was determined to put up a fight for the leather case. She held out her hand.

‘I doubt that, but it is your choice,' she said indifferently. ‘I will keep my trinket, then, if you would prefer a long and dusty ride to Rouen—'

As Cassie reached for the locket the stallholder closed his fingers over it.

‘As you say, it is a long way to Rouen, whereas this pretty bauble I could sell much more easily.' He gave a gusty sigh. ‘It is a great bargain for you,
madame
, and I shall most likely make a loss on this deal at the end of the day. But I will let you have the case in exchange for your locket and chain.'

It was done. Cassandra reached out to close the lid upon the gruesome-looking instruments and to lift the case off the stall while the stallholder was busy inspecting his new possession. He prised open the locket.

‘A moment,
madame
. Who is this handsome gentleman portrayed inside?'

‘My husband,' she said quietly. ‘He is dead.'

‘Ah, a thousand regrets! You are desolated to part with his likeness, no? But it need not be,' he said, holding the locket closer to his eyes. ‘It is painted on ivory and it is a little loose...' She watched him take out a small knife and ease the miniature from its mount. ‘There,
madame
, you may have your husband back again. It shows you that I have a great heart, have I not?'

‘Thank you.' Cassie slipped the little painting into her reticule. It was the last thing she had bought with her pin money before she and Gerald ran off together. It would remind her that she had thought herself in love with him and had been mistaken. Perhaps it would also help her avoid making the same mistake again.

* * *

In the privacy of the inn she inspected her purchase. The corners of the leather case were worn, but the instruments, although dull, looked to be in good condition and similar to the ones she had seen Raoul use at Flagey. Would he appreciate the gesture, or would he think her foolish? After all, what did she know of his profession? These instruments might be of poor quality. Not only would he think her foolish, he might be offended. The sound of his now-familiar step on the stair made her heart race. She would soon know.

Chapter Nine

W
hen Raoul entered the room to find Cassie was waiting for him his spirits rose and the day seemed a little brighter. He noted immediately the new bonnet and the heavy veil which she had put back so that the black lace fell like a mantle over her shoulders. He thought how well she looked, a faint flush on her cheeks and a shy, tentative smile trembling on her lips.

‘How was your morning?' she asked him, by way of greeting.

He stripped off his gloves and threw them on to a chair.

‘There is news. The
Prométhée
was coming into the harbour even as I reached the quay. I did not wait. Captain Belfort will be busy for hours yet so I will go back later, after we have dined.' The delay was frustrating, but he had waited so long that he could be patient a little longer. He smiled at her. ‘You have your hat and veil, I see. Very fetching.'

‘I bought something else,' she said, waving towards the table. ‘Something for you.'

For the first time Raoul saw the battered case upon the dining table.

‘You bought this for me?'

He walked to the table while Cassie rushed to explain.

‘I saw it in the market and thought you might be able to use it, since you left all your own instruments in Paris. I have no idea if these are the right tools for you, or if indeed they are any good, but I thought, I hoped they might suffice until you could find yourself a new set...'

Her words trailed off but Raoul barely noticed, he was too engrossed in assessing the familiar instruments. The contents were almost complete. No drugs or opiates, of course, that was too much to expect, but everything else was there: a few dressings and bandages, various types of knives and forceps, a bullet probe, even an amputation saw. The finish was dulled, but Raoul could see that they were all made from the finest cast steel.

‘The stallholder assured me they were legally acquired. He said they were from the sale of a bankrupt's effects.'

‘Indeed?' Raoul murmured. ‘One man's misfortune is another's gain, then.' He looked at her, frowning. ‘But this must have cost you something. Have you spent your passage money?'

‘No, of course not.'

‘Then how did you pay for it?' When she did not reply immediately his imagination rioted as he considered what possible folly she might have committed. He said brusquely, ‘The truth, milady, if you please.'

‘I exchanged my locket for it.'

Raoul regarded her in silence as more wild thoughts chased around in his head. She had little enough money for her journey, so why had she sold her last item of jewellery to buy this for him?

‘But it contained the picture of your husband.'

‘The stallholder prised that out. I have it safe. Not that I really want it,' she said quickly. ‘I thought I might send it to Gerald's family when I get back to England.' When he said nothing she gave a tiny shrug, ‘I saw the case and thought you might be able to use it. However, if it is not what you require, I shall not be offended. Perhaps we could sell it back.'

He reached for her hand and carried it to his lips.

‘No need for that, milady. I have never received a better gift. Thank you, a thousand times.'

Her fingers trembled and the blush deepened on her cheek.

‘I thought perhaps it might help you to remember me,' she murmured.

I could never forget you.

Raoul heard the words in his head, but he dare not say them aloud. To do so would be to admit his weakness. He knew he should have left her at Rouen, insisted she take a ship from there, but somehow, he found it impossible to let her go. There was always some reason to keep her with him, just another day.

The long dark lashes had swept down so that he could not see her eyes, but she made no move to free herself from his grasp and he could not bring himself to release her. Silence settled around them and with each moment that passed the peace of it drained away. The air became charged with anticipation, as if an electrical storm was imminent. They were locked in a silent tableau, their bodies inching closer. Gently Raoul ran his free hand down her cheek.

‘Cassie, look at me.'

He saw the nervous movement of her throat before she slowly raised her head and lifted her eyes to his. They were huge and dark with only a narrow ring of violet around the black centres and as Raoul stared into the liquid depths he thought that he was drowning. He saw himself mirrored in those luminous eyes and he had a sudden, wild idea that he had found his soulmate.

* * *

A knock at the door shattered the moment. They jumped apart as the door opened and a serving maid entered.

‘A letter for
madame
,' said the maid. She handed over the letter then waited, wiping her nose on her sleeve. Cassie turned the note over and over in her hands. She was dazed and unable to concentrate. She felt like someone dragged suddenly from a deep sleep.

Raoul threw the girl a coin. ‘You may go.'

At last Cassie broke the seal and read the note while the servant clumped noisily back down the stairs.

‘It is from Wolfgang,' she said at last. ‘He says the arrangements are in hand. He is going to join us here for dinner.'

‘That is promising.' Raoul glanced towards the window. ‘Judging by the sun's shadow there is still an hour or so until dinner, are you tired or would you like to stroll out with me? A little air might do us both good.'

‘Yes, thank you, I would like that.'

Cassie carefully pulled the veil over her face and preceded him out of the room. She was still confused by the look she had seen in Raoul's eyes. What would he have said, if they had not been interrupted? Her heart skittered and she decided she would rather not know the answer. Therefore to walk out, where there would be much to see and discuss, would be infinitely preferable to sitting indoors together.

* * *

The town was bustling and it was easy for them to mingle amongst the crowds, enjoying the autumn sunshine. They talked very little, but they were comfortable together again and Cassie was glad of it.

‘I am sorry the market stalls are empty now,' she said, when at last they turned to make their way back to the inn. ‘I would have liked to show you where I purchased the case. I—'

Raoul put his hand over her fingers where they rested on his sleeve and gave them a squeeze. She was silent immediately. A large group of uniformed riders was approaching.

‘Keep walking,' Raoul told her quietly.

Obediently Cassie accompanied him along the street, but she peered out through her thick veil as the riders trotted past them towards the town centre. At their head was a figure she had seen only once before, but would never forget. Valerin.

‘Has he come for you?' she murmured.

‘It is most likely. He will know that the
Prométhée
is in port
and has guessed that I would try to see the captain.'

They walked on unhurriedly, but the last few yards to the inn seemed to go on for ever and it was all Cassie could do not to glance back over her shoulder. When they reached the inn the landlord was looking out for them and told them somewhat severely that dinner was ready and their guest had already arrived.

‘I have taken the liberty of setting a table for you in a private room,' their host informed them. ‘Monsieur Lagrasse is waiting for you there.'

‘Yes, very good,' said Raoul. ‘Tell him we will be with him once we have washed the dust of the streets from our hands.' He followed Cassie up the stairs. ‘I am very glad we chose to stay here under a different name, it will take Valerin a little longer to find us out. I hope, by the time he does, you will be safely on your way to England.'

* * *

It was an added worry, but Cassie tried not to let it show as she made her way into the private parlour. She waited impatiently for the servants to set out their dinner and leave the room and as the door closed behind them she asked Wolfgang for his news. He responded in a bluff, cheerful voice.

‘I am very well, I thank you, and business is good.' He gave his head a little shake and said much more quietly, ‘It is best not to take chances, even when we are alone. Someone may be listening on the other side of the panelling.' He beckoned to them to lean closer. ‘We will meet at the church of St Valery at midnight tomorrow. It is barely five miles from here and there will be a boat standing off the coast, ready to sail for England. The captain is an old friend of mine. I did him a service some years ago and he is pleased now to be able to repay it.'

‘I take it we should not ask what trade this ship is engaged in?' murmured Raoul.

Wolfgang shot him a quick grin. ‘No, you should not.'

Cassie said eagerly, ‘And he will take me to England?'

‘Yes. He has agreed to put you ashore near Newhaven. I have already sent word ahead, informing Lady Hune and asking her to send a carriage to meet you there.'

Cassie was doubtful. Her fingers plucked nervously at the tablecloth.

‘Do you really think she will do so?' she asked. ‘After all the grief I have caused her?'

Wolfgang reached out and squeezed her hand.

‘The marchioness was never one to turn her back on an Arrandale in trouble and you are her granddaughter. She loves you.'

‘Yes, yes, of course.'

Cassie blinked back her tears and quickly drew her hand away as the door opened. When the servant came in with more dishes she forced herself to chatter about inconsequential things.

* * *

Raoul pushed his food about his plate, his appetite gone. It should not matter to him that Cassie and her cousin were getting on so well, but it did. He had to admit that Lady Cassandra had confounded his ideas about the English aristocracy. He had tried to tell himself she was spoiled and selfish, he had tried to hate her, but he could not. The only thing he could hold against her was her race and even that seemed less important now.

‘And what of you, Doulevant, how goes your search for your sea captain?'

Arrandale's voice broke into Raoul's reverie and he realised they were alone again.

‘I go to see him tonight,' he said shortly.

‘No!' Cassie's knife clattered to her plate. ‘You must not go near the
Prométhée
while Valerin is in Dieppe.' Without giving Raoul time to reply she turned to her cousin. ‘The officer who accused Raoul of being a deserter rode into the town with a party of police officers this afternoon. He is bent on revenge and I am sure he will not allow Raoul to see Captain Belfort.'

‘Revenge?' Raoul found himself subjected to an enquiring stare from Arrandale. ‘What did you do to him,
monsieur
?'

‘I stopped him forcing his unwanted attentions upon my sister.'

‘Ah, I see. Well, Cassie is right. If he believes you are here he will surely prevent you meeting up with the captain.'

Raoul shrugged. ‘He may try.'

‘You must not go,' said Cassie firmly. ‘His men will be looking out for you. At least leave it for a day or so. Valerin may begin to doubt you are here and relax his guard. Raoul,
please
, do not go.'

The pleading look in her eyes confirmed what he had seen there earlier, before the servant had interrupted them. She cared for him. He tried to be grateful for that interruption, to pretend the moment had no significance but he could not ignore what his heart was telling him. Yet there could be no future for them. Could there? The first tiny spark of hope flickered, but he quickly crushed it. Their lives were too different. He could never enter her world and he certainly could not allow her to sacrifice her life to stay with him. Even if he became the most successful surgeon in Brussels he could not ask her to give up everything she had known to become his wife. To risk being neglected, like
Maman
. No, his work was his life. There was no room for anything else. He shook his head.

‘I cannot wait. The
Prométhée
is only in port to re-victual, then she will be off to sea again and I may not get another chance.'

‘It is madness,' said Cassie. ‘Valerin will have made sure every
douanier
and police officer in Dieppe has your description, they will stop you as soon as you go near the ship. You had as well walk into a lion's den.'

‘She is right,' Arrandale agreed. ‘If this Valerin is determined to destroy you he will not hesitate to shoot you on the least pretext.'

‘That is a risk I must take. I need my papers if I am to practise my profession.'

‘There is one way.' Arrandale was regarding him over the rim of his wineglass. ‘Let me go for you.'

‘Impossible,' said Raoul immediately. He did not want to be any more beholden to this man. ‘I rely upon you to get Lady Cassandra safely out of the country.'

‘I shall be back in time to take care of that.' Arrandale gave a careless shrug. ‘And if not I will make sure you know all the arrangements before I leave here tonight.' He grinned. ‘Trust me, Doulevant, I will see your captain and be back here before dawn with those papers for you.'

‘But how?' asked Cassie. ‘Is it not equally dangerous for you, Cousin?'

‘Not at all. No one could mistake a longshanks like me for Doulevant. And as you have seen, I can look far less respectable when I try! I shall become a common sailor. Believe me, I can do this. I have spent the past ten years passing myself off as someone I am not. Once more will be no problem.'

Raoul did not want to accept, but every one of his arguments was refuted and in the end he gave in. Arrandale drained his glass and sat back in his chair, grinning.

‘Very well, then. You had best tell me all I need to know to convince this Captain Belfort to trust me.'

* * *

There was no possibility of sleep. Cassie sat with Raoul before the glowing embers of the fire while the night drifted slowly towards morning. After Wolfgang had left they had played at cards until midnight, but when Raoul suggested she should go to bed Cassie refused.