Upon Your Return (18 page)

Chapter Thirteen

When they reached Marseille many days later, Grant located an inn in town where they would stay for the night. Once they settled into a small room together, Grant began to undress and Fara observed him from the vanity.

“Are you using me?” she asked.

“Using you,” he whispered incredulously.

“You know what I mean. As a man might use a woman.” She could not meet his gaze; seeing the truth on his face would be too much to handle.

“You are asking me if I have merely selected you to fill the role of a mistress.”

“
Oui
. I am asking that.” She went to the wardrobe and chose a nightgown. Then she returned to the vanity and took a brush through her hair.

He sighed. “It does not please me that you wonder such a thing.”

She turned and rose from the chair to see him frowning. “What else am I to think, Grant? We rarely do things that other couples do, that betrothed couples do. We had that time at the opera house, but the only time you approach me is to make love to me. Is there nothing else? Surely you cannot be too surprised that I ask or you would answer the question. You wouldn't avoid it like you are doing right now.” She looked up to see his eyes darken and backed away when he tried to come toward her.

“So you fear my advances now? That is not like you. You think I am using you,” he spat out the words as if they were distasteful. “Fara, I have never before courted a woman. With Lisette, it was not about courting though I attempted to do that. I would not know where to begin. Even if I did, I cannot make you any promises because of the instability of my position. I might have to leave port again and then what? You would be alone and without anyone to care for you.

“I won't make the kind of promise that a man would make if he planned to marry a woman. Besides, I offered and you rejected me. I will not offer until matters are different between us. What I do for you now is the only part of myself that I can give you until the circumstances have improved. When I make love to you, I am not making love to just any woman. I am making love to you, a girl with so many appealing qualities they are impossible to count. I see more than your beauty, Fara. I see a person and a woman who needs more than I can give her.”

Her breath caught and she couldn't speak for the lump in her throat.

“If you wish a husband, that can be arranged. Only by your choice, of course.”

To offer her a choice in a future spouse, to give up their relationship for her needs. What was he doing? She shook her head. “I do not wish to be married…”

“I know. At least not without love.”

They went to bed without another word. He didn't bother to touch her. Laying on her side, she felt the ache of tears in her throat. She repressed it. Dear God, he was right. He had offered to marry her once, and she had refused him. She couldn't truly complain about their relationship if she had placed herself in such a position, could she?

* * * *

Grant spent the day on
La Voyageur
, overseeing the work to be done in order to ready her for the next trip. He knew in these times of political upheaval that it would behoove him to be prepared for the unexpected. Even if it would be a month before he was to sail to take a shipment of supplies abroad, anything could change that, anything at all. His crew trusted him to make certain that they were prepared for the unexpected as well as the inevitable. It was his responsibility as captain.

These days, responsibility was more complicated a term than it used to be. He was responsible for both his ship and his crew. He had a responsibility to his country and to the merchants he dealt with. No, his alliances were not always considered favorable, but in trade, loyalty was a hard thing to come by. Some people might question who he failed most, the country of his birth or the one with which he felt more connected because of his mother. Most of all, he had a responsibility to Fara, to ensure her protection and her happiness.

He often had to convince himself that the questionable actions in his trade were necessary in order to secure a life with Fara in the future. At times, that possibility seemed further away than it should. If she had not entered his life on that fateful night, he would not feel so divided with his loyalties to trade and country. Now he had this other concern, how hard it was to conceal his misdeeds from the one who left him more open and honest than he'd been with anyone. He could protect Fara better if he kept the secret, if he didn't burden her with the horrors and dark tales of his journeys. It was better that she didn't share his fears of the inevitable, the banishment he faced if the government discovered what he'd done. Experience and years of conflict had taught him to trust no one but himself to do what must be done.

At the same time, he knew she was his weakness, the only reason, except for his friendship with Eric and the subtle camaraderie with his crew, that he had not become a hard man. Though he could be as tough as an ox and refused to back down without a fight, she left him feeling something very real after only knowing her a few short months and he knew that was rare. It was not to be taken lightly.

However, he also knew if he let his guard down completely, as he seemed tempted when he was with Fara, then he would not be prepared for what was to come, for what he must face in the near future due to his actions abroad. He could not afford to let that happen. The lives of those he was responsible for would then be in danger and it was enough of a concern already. He was not a man easily given to emotions, but he knew with Fara he could be a different man, a better man. He might feel much more if he allowed himself to. Obligation, on the other hand, required that he should not. Now, if he would just get his heart to obey him in this matter, it would simplify many things.

* * * *

Fara had been in Marseille for several days before she ventured out with Rosalie and Pierre to explore the city. She and Grant planned to get a feel for society before presenting themselves to her aunt. He'd thought it would be safer for
Madame
Devereux to believe they'd just met in town rather than having previously known each other. That way, if he had to leave suddenly due to his profession, she wouldn't have to explain anything. Grant had gone off to take care of some arrangements when Fara made plans to leave the inn. While she was in town, she thought they would go to a nearby café for refreshments. When they were finished eating, a man caught her as she came out of the building. “Please, you are
Mademoiselle
Bellamont?”

She nodded, instantly suspicious of the tall man before her who appeared in some kind of uniform. She had seen similar uniforms on men in La Rochelle from time to time. “I would speak with you about something of importance.” He hesitated, and then went on. “I am with the French army,
Mademoiselle
.”

An officer, she mused. Well, the law was the be all and end all in France. If she tried to refuse him it would be to no avail. “All right.” He climbed into the carriage with her while Pierre and Rosalie sat on the top seat.

“
Mademoiselle
Bellamont...”

“Will this take very long? I have affairs to tend to.”

He frowned. “No, of course not.”

“
Très bien
.” She sat back against the cushioned seat.

“There is an urgent matter to discuss.”

She sighed. “What might that be,
Monsieur
?”

He leaned in closer. “You listen to me carefully,
Mademoiselle
, or we might consider you aiding a criminal.”

She gasped. Of all the nerve! “Just what exactly are you accusing me of,
Monsieur
? Because I've done nothing.”

“You've become involved with a man who happens to be a spy.”

She let the reality of his words sink in. “I do not know what you are talking about,” she stammered.

He grasped her elbow. “Do you not? It is said that a man utters his darkest secrets while in the throes of passion,
chère
.”

She wrenched from his grasp, throwing him off-balance, as color stained her cheeks. The endearment incensed her. “Give me a hint as to what you're referring to,
Monsieur
, or I will have you thrown out of my carriage,” she shot back coldly. Deep down, however, Fara desperately wanted this information, even if she learned something bad about Grant. So much of his business was a mystery.

He grasped the seat and cleared his throat. In a clear but low voice, he began, “The government is concerned about a traitor in our midst. He seems to be a captain of a ship. It is not a rare profession in these parts, but rare indeed to be shipping goods to another country.”

She frowned. “As far as I know, trading is not unheard of...”

“This country is at war for a good reason and this man is presumably trading information with the enemy.”

The enemy
…her mind was stunned by the words. “So you are concerned that this man is a spy. I understand the government's part in this,
Monsieur
, but I fail to see how it involves me--”

He gripped her wrists this time. “You are undoubtedly involved,
Mademoiselle
. This man is your lover!”

“My…what?”

His jaw tightened. “You are
La Capitaine
Hill's mistress. It is no secret; many people are aware of it. Cease playing the role of a half-wit,
Mademoiselle
, and listen to what I have to say!”

Fara did not like the way he handled her, but both her fear and curiosity won over. How did people in Marseille already know about them? What if they had been followed from La Rochelle? “I'm listening,” she said softly.

“If you are wise, you will warn
Monsieur
Hill that we are watching his every move and now is the time for him to watch his back. Treason is an intolerable crime in France and if he isn't careful, there may be no opportunity for defection!” He released her and bowed as well as he was able in that tight space. “Good evening,
Mademoiselle
. Thank you for your time.” He opened the flap, climbed down from the carriage, and crossed the street.

Fara was so shocked she almost didn't hear her driver speak to her. “I'm sorry,” she replied, tearing her mind away from that jumble of thoughts. “You said something?”

“
Oui
. Are you heading back to the inn,
Mademoiselle
?”

She swallowed tightly. He would wait for her there. But, she would be better off with her aunt. Perhaps Grant would then discover her whereabouts since he had numerous resources of gaining such information. She had not told him she would be approaching her aunt so soon since he knew she was supposed to be at the milliner's shops. However, if what the officer had said was true, she really had no reason to tell him everything either. “No, to the dwelling of
Madame
Devereux. Is that satisfactory, Pierre?”

“
Oui, Mademoiselle
. We will arrive there soon.” He climbed up on the seat and cracked the whip. The carriage began to move steadily.

“
Merci
,” she said absently, staring out at the outline of the harbor and wondering if
La Voyageur
was still docked nearby. Grant's men would be stocking the ship with supplies in the case they had to depart. If the officer was right about Grant's actions, then perhaps he would have lied about other things as well.

* * * *

Fara was welcomed with open arms as a guest of
Madame
Devereux, who was very hospitable. Lina Devereux insisted that Fara stay for a few nights since she had no place in town just yet.

Though she did not reply to that quick generosity, she stayed for tea and cakes and listened to the hum of women talking amongst themselves. How could she make any permanent decisions when her life was in turmoil? She hesitated to tell
Madame
Devereux of their relation because she had never been properly introduced to her. Her uncle had been far too quick to keep her away from anyone but him. And the last thing she wanted was to drag her aunt into something as political as what that officer implied Grant's involvement to be, if it was the truth at all. Grant was so secretive. There really was no way to tell. She would have to discern what she could from his actions.

Fara shook the thought away and focused back on the conversation between the women. As the gossip died down in the room from her other female guests, her aunt beckoned to Fara to move closer while the other women talked amongst themselves.

She turned to Fara. “What are your marriage prospects like,
Mademoiselle
?”

“I have only just arrived. It is almost too soon…but, I did run into a gentleman this morning who caught my eye.” She had used the opportunity to insert a hint of Grant into the conversation; that was, after all, the plan they had decided on.

“Perhaps his family is well-endowed.”

“Perhaps.” She sighed. “And what of yourself? Would you ever marry again?” Fara countered as she sipped at the tea.