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Authors: Sarah Mallory

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BOOK: Return of the Runaway
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‘Cassie, I—'

She shook her head at him. ‘Please, do not say anything Raoul. We must part and nothing has happened to change that.' She was smiling at him and at first he thought her eyes sparkled with starlight, but a second look told him it was tears. When she spoke there was a brittle, self-deprecating lightness to her voice that he had never heard before. ‘You need not worry about me. Why, 'tis only two weeks since I buried my husband, so you may believe me when I tell you this type of grand passion never lasts. Let us say no more about it, if you please.' She pulled her hand free. ‘Do you think we are safe yet?'

Raoul shook his head to clear his thoughts. She had retreated from him, but there was no time now to think of that or to consider her words. He must concentrate on their present situation. He looked about him.

‘The danger is not over yet,' he said. ‘They may have sent a party of riders after us, so we must push on. There is the crossroads ahead. We had best make haste to cover as much ground as we can before the moon sets.'

They turned their horses and cantered on towards the coast road. As they passed the crossroads Raoul glanced up at the gibbet with the caged remains of some poor soul swinging gently like a portent of doom.

Chapter Ten

W
olfgang had told them that the little church of St Valery was perched on the limestone cliff overlooking a sheltered cove with a pebble beach. Neither beach, cove nor the sea were visible when Cassie and Raoul reached the rendezvous shortly before midnight. The church was a black shape against the dark blue of the sky, but beyond it everything faded into blackness and only the fresh breeze and a muted roar told them that the sea was very close.

They had been riding hard, mostly in silence, and as they neared the coast Cassie was aware of the knot of unhappiness growing inside her. In a few more hours she would be leaving France, leaving Raoul. They must return to their own very different worlds, there was no other way. Occasionally she would glance across at Raoul and the set look on his face told her he, too, was not looking forward to their parting. He loved her, she had seen it in his face when they had slowed for a moment from their madcap ride, but following quickly on from the joyous realisation came the certainty that it could not last. Memories of the fierce passion she had shared with Gerald still haunted her. At first they could not bear to be parted for even a day, yet how soon their love had died, leaving only bitterness and pain. Just the thought of going through such agony again made Cassie shudder.

They tethered the horses in an old wooden shelter, as they had been instructed. Cassie was relieved to see Wolfgang's big black hunter was already there and she hurried after Raoul as he went softly into the church. Inside a single lantern burned near the altar, illuminating the scene. The lantern was held aloft by an elderly priest who was standing to one side while two men knelt over a prostrate figure. They were all so still that at first Cassandra thought she was looking at a religious sculpture, but at their entry the priest turned and the lantern's light fell more fully on the man lying on the ground. She ran forward with a cry.

‘Cousin!' She fell on her knees beside Wolfgang. ‘What has happened here?' she demanded. ‘What has occurred?'

The two men rose, touching their caps instinctively and introduced themselves as the captain and first mate of the
Antoinette
.

‘He collapsed,' said the captain. ‘We met as agreed, came in and then he staggered, complaining of an old wound.'

Raoul gently moved Cassie aside and began to examine the unconscious form.

‘It would appear he received more than a scratch at the harbour,' he muttered. ‘He has a bullet in his shoulder and he has lost a lot of blood. Why in heaven's name did he not tell me?'

Cassie touched his arm. ‘Can you help him, Raoul?'

‘Of course. He is strong, but the bullet will need to come out and quickly.'

‘No, no,
monsieur
, you cannot tend him here,' cried the priest in alarm. ‘If anyone should see the light, if you were to be discovered—'

‘Is your house nearby?' said Cassie. ‘We could take him there.'

The priest recoiled even more.

‘No, no,
madame
. It is not possible. The
douaniers
patrol here regularly. They already suspect me of having links with the smugglers. I cannot risk having an injured man in my house.'

‘Then it must be here,' she said. ‘We cannot let him
die
.'

‘There's the vaults,' suggested the captain. ‘No one would see the light down there.'

‘Very well, let us get him there now,' said Raoul taking charge. ‘Monsieur le Curé, if you would be good enough to light the way. Captain, can you and your man help me carry him? Carefully now!' He glanced at Cassie, his voice softening. ‘It appears I shall need your instruments sooner than expected.'

She nodded. ‘I will fetch them.'

* * *

The vaults were cold but clean, as if regularly used. Raoul said nothing but he noticed the marks on the wall, as if something had been stacked against it. Barrels, perhaps. A flat-topped tomb to some ancient dignitary filled the centre of the biggest vault and Raoul helped the two sailors to lay the unconscious form gently on the top. It provided a perfect operating table. Lighted candles from the church were brought down to illuminate the space and the priest hurried away to fetch hot water and sheets to make bandages.

‘What can I do to help?' asked Cassie.

The captain stepped up. ‘Begging your pardon,
madame
, but 'tis time to leave. The tide will be turning and we need to get back to the ship.'

Raoul had shut his mind to this moment but he could do so no longer. It was as if a band of steel was tightening around his chest.

‘He is right, milady. You must go.'

They were on either side of the tomb, facing each other across Arrandale's near-lifeless body.

‘I cannot leave my cousin like this.'

Her voice shook and Raoul tried to reassure her.

‘I will not let him die, Cassie.'

Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears. ‘I cannot leave
you
like this.'

Her words were like a knife, twisting in his gut.

‘My dear, there is no choice. The ship must leave with the tide.'

‘Then I shall not go.'

The captain cleared his throat.

‘Monsieur Lagrasse has been a friend for many years,
madame
. I told him I would see you safely to England. He would not forgive me for breaking my word.'

‘Then I am sorry for it, Captain, but Monsieur Lagrasse is my cousin and
I
will not leave him until I know if he will live. I beg your pardon for your wasted journey.'

The captain rubbed his chin. ‘We
could
stand off another day, perhaps, and come back tomorrow night.'

One more day. Raoul clutched at it, although he knew the parting would be no easier tomorrow. He looked at Cassie.

‘You can help me tonight and nurse him tomorrow, until midnight. Then you must leave. Are we agreed?'

She nodded. ‘Yes. Agreed.'

‘Very well, then,' said the captain. ‘I will return here for you at midnight tomorrow,
madame
. But you must be ready to leave; I put my men and my ship at risk coming back again.'

* * *

Cassie hesitated, wondering if Raoul would protest and beg her to stay. At that moment she knew she would willingly tell the captain not to return, she would remain in France and take her chances, but Raoul said nothing and she knew in her heart that it was for the best. She had said as much, had she not?

‘Thank you, Captain,' she said at last. ‘I will be ready.'

The sailors departed and she turned her thoughts to preparing Wolfgang for the operation. She had a few more precious hours here. She must try to remember everything.

* * *

Cassie worked with Raoul to remove Wolfgang's ruined coat and shirt, then she shifted the candles to provide the best light and prepared the instruments for him, making use of everything she had learned at Flagey. All the while the priest ran back and forth, bringing cloths and bandages from his house. He also brought a
réchaud
, or chafing dish, which not only kept the water hot but also provided a little warmth in the chill vault. She was relieved her cousin was oblivious when Raoul began to probe the wound, but by the time the bullet had been removed and the wound dressed, Wolfgang's continued unconsciousness was beginning to worry her.

‘His heartbeat is strong,' Raoul reassured her, when she voiced her fears. ‘If only he had let me look at his shoulder yesterday, instead of telling me it was nothing.'

She managed a little smile. ‘We Arrandales do not like admitting our weaknesses.'

With the priest's help they moved Wolfgang to a bed of straw and blankets on the floor. Cassie wrapped herself in her cloak and sat down beside him, keeping watch. It was an anxious time, but there was little she could do save bathe his face and wait for him to come round.

* * *

She had dozed fitfully, waking once in a panic to find that she and Wolfgang were alone with a single lantern to light them. Her relief when Raoul reappeared must have shown on her face for he came over, directly.

‘I have been to check on the horses and I helped the
curé
remove all evidence of his involvement. Now if we are discovered he can deny he knew anything about us being here.' He knelt beside the patient and laid a hand on his forehead. ‘He is sleeping. There is no fever, that is a mercy, and his body will heal more quickly if he rests. Do not fret, Cassie, he will wake soon.'

He turned down the lamp and came around to sit beside her.

‘Is it daylight now?' she asked.

‘Yes, a fine day, too.'

She shivered. ‘I do not like being here, I feel too...trapped. What if someone should come? What if Valerin should find us?'

‘He cannot even be sure we were in Dieppe, unless Captain Belfort gives me away, which I do not believe he will do,' he told her. ‘The most likely thing is that the
douaniers
might arrive, searching for contraband, but the
curé
has promised he will keep a look out for us and will send his boy to warn us if he sees anything suspicious. You should sleep while you can
.
'

‘And you?' she asked him.

‘I shall try to sleep, too.'

He had put his cloak on the ground beside her and stretched out on it. Cassie lay down, taking care that their bodies did not touch as she turned this way and that, trying to get comfortable. Eventually she heard Raoul give a loud sigh.

‘What is the matter?'

‘I beg your pardon, I did not want to disturb you, but the ground is so hard...'

He reached out one arm and drew her to him.

‘There,' he said, nestling her against his shoulder. ‘Is that better?'

‘Oh, yes,' she whispered.

Tired as she was she knew she would not sleep, not even with the regular thud of Raoul's heart against her cheek, but she kept very still and silent, knowing he must be exhausted. However, it seemed that Raoul could not sleep, either.

‘I cannot help but remember the last time I held you like this,' he murmured. ‘Did you mean what you said, that you found our lovemaking...satisfactory?'

She sighed. ‘It was more than satisfactory, Raoul. I never knew such happiness before.'

‘Then your lovers were sadly lacking.'

‘I have had no lovers,' she confessed. ‘Only my husband.'

‘And he did not give you pleasure?'

‘At first perhaps, there was something like it, when I thought we were in love, but I wonder now if he ever truly loved me. I think perhaps he married me for the fortune I would inherit when I reached one-and-twenty.'

Raoul's arm tightened a little. ‘He was a scoundrel, then.'

‘Yes, but I was a fool. He had no money of his own, you see, but that did not matter to me. When we ran away I took all my jewels to sell.' She exhaled sadly. ‘You would indeed think me spoiled if you had seen how many jewels and trinkets my family had lavished upon me. It should have been enough to live comfortably for years, but by the time we were sent to Verdun the money was running low and my husband needed more. Gambling had become an obsession. My grandmother warned me how it would be, she knew he was weak, although thankfully she had no idea just how low he would stoop and I will never tell her. But I should have heeded her.'

‘But you need not have stayed,' Raoul pointed out. ‘Once you knew what sort of man your husband was, why did you not go home to your family?'

She said simply, ‘It would have been very disloyal to leave my husband at such a time. Although, I began to wish I had done so. He...he changed.'

He took her hand and said gently, ‘Would you tell me?'

Could she? Cassie let her breath go in a long, low sigh. She knew she would never confess the whole to Grandmama, but lying here beside Raoul, her hand resting safely in his grasp, she thought perhaps it was time to give voice to it all.

‘Gerald courted me so charmingly and it seemed such an adventure to elope, and the idea of going to France was so exciting! By the time we reached Paris I realised I did not love him. However, we were married by then and I knew I would have to make the best of it. Everything was well as long as there was money, but when it ran out—' Her hand trembled and Raoul's grasp tightened, giving her the strength to continue. ‘Gerald wanted me to ask Grandmama to send more funds, but I refused. I would not ask her to pay for his gambling. He did not like that, it made him angry and we argued constantly. He said I was a burden, that I must pay my way.' She stopped, recalling the revulsion and fear of those last few months. ‘He began to bring his friends to our rooms and to hint that I should...entertain them. He wanted to share me with his friends. To—to sell my favours.' She closed her eyes. ‘I dreaded those parties and took to retiring to my room and locking the door, but I knew, sooner or later, Gerald would catch me out and make me do what he wanted. If he had not died when he did—' She broke off as the hot tears began to slide over her cheek. ‘And now I feel so guilty, because when they came to tell me I was a widow I felt nothing but
relief
!'

Raoul had listened with growing anger to her story, but now he could be silent no longer.

‘Ah, my love.' The words were forced from him and he turned, gathering her into his arms so she might cry her heart out against his chest. When at last the wrenching sobs died away he murmured against her hair, ‘You must not blame yourself. The man was a brute to treat you in such a way.'

‘B-but he was my husband, and he always maintained he l-loved me.'

His arms tightened. ‘That was not love,
chérie.
You are well rid of such a monster.'

‘He—he said I was cold,' she whispered. ‘He said I have no heart.'

‘I can assure you that is not true.' He shifted his position, cupping her face with one hand and gazing into her eyes. ‘Forget this man,
ma chère
. He is not worth a moment's regret.' He dropped a light kiss on her eyelids and another on her mouth, where he tasted the salt of her tears.

BOOK: Return of the Runaway
11.29Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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