Madeleine inclined her head, thinking quickly. She decided the truth would serve her best, although she would tell him as little as possible.
‘My name is Madeleine d’Evremont.’
‘The landlord tells me you are travelling alone, Mistress d’Evremont. Is that wise?’
She bridled at that. ‘Of course it is not wise! My maid was with me when I left Inverness, but when we reached Balvenie, she slipped away. Her family live nearby and I suspect she has returned to them.’
‘Forgive me, madam, but a lady, even one accompanied by her maid, should not be travelling without an escort.’
‘I can take care of myself!’ Recalling what had just occurred, how he had rescued her, she realised that sounded very foolish. ‘In general I am very capable of looking after myself,’ she amended. ‘However, I have no choice but to continue my journey.’
‘And where is your destination?’
That was not something she wished to share with a stranger.
‘I am going south,’ she said vaguely. ‘To stay with friends.’
He was leaning back on his chair, his long legs stretched before him and his booted ankles crossed as he regarded her with a touch of scorn in his deep brown eyes.
‘And what kind of friends is it that lets a young lady travel without an escort?’
Maddie hesitated, then admitted, ‘They do not know I am coming—’
She broke off as the door opened and a young serving girl entered. Her companion looked up.
‘Ah, here is the maid come to tidy the room and we shall be very much in the way here. Shall we go over there and sit by the fire?’
Madeleine’s brows lifted. ‘But there is no fire.’
‘It has been prepared, so I can soon light it and then we will be out of the girl’s way.’
They moved their chairs nearer to the hearth and made innocuous conversation while the maid bustled about, clearing up the broken dishes on the floor and setting the table. When she had finished the girl bobbed a curtsy and would have left, but Grant Rathmore stopped her. He glanced at Madeleine.
‘Perhaps, ma’am, you would like to go to your room to wash your hands before we dine? The maid might go with you, if you would rather not be alone.’
She was touched and not a little surprised by his consideration. He was clearly not such a vagabond as his untidy appearance suggested.
She rose. ‘Yes, thank you, Mr Rathmore. I shall not be too long.’
He rose, too, and bowed. ‘Take all the time you need, Miss d’Evremont.’
* * *
Alone in the room, Grant walked over to the window. Outside, the shadows were lengthening in the yard and, although there was some time yet until sunset, Grant decided he would fasten the shutters. The landlord had assured him he would keep his men on watch throughout the night, but one could not be too careful. He would keep his sword with him, too, in case of attack, although he hoped he might at least enjoy his meal in comfort and peace, for once. Truth be told, he was looking forward to dining with the lady.
Miss Madeleine d’Evremont. The name suggested she might be French and he thought he had detected the slightest accent in her speech. She had left Inverness with her maid, but no escort. Did that mean she was a fugitive, like himself? Grant shrugged away the question. The answer was no concern of his. He had no time to worry over a stranger.
Yet she was a pretty little thing. She spoke well, too, in a pleasingly musical voice. An educated lady, he thought, and she could not be without funds, if she could afford to bespeak this parlour. The devil of it was, with her dainty figure and heart-shaped face she would always be at risk from men, especially soldiers whose blood was up.
Having satisfied himself that the shutters were secure, Grant turned away from the window and his thoughts returned to the lady. She would attract trouble like a magnet! He had enough problems of his own and was not in a position to shoulder those of anyone else. He would enjoy dinner, thank Miss Madeleine d’Evremont for her hospitality and be on his way.
* * *
When Maddie returned to the parlour the candles were burning and casting a soft, golden glow over the room. A branched candlestick stood on the table, throwing extra light on the two places set. Her fellow diner was putting more logs on the fire, but at her entrance he rose and dusted his hands.
‘In good time, Miss d’Evremont, our host is about to bring in the dishes. A ragout of some sort, I believe, but perhaps we should not enquire too closely.’
He held her chair for her and poured them each a glass of wine before sitting down and engaging her in conversation. His polite manner soon put Maddie at her ease, which she suspected was his intention. He must know as well as she how improper it was for a lady to be dining alone with a man she barely knew. Just because he had saved her from the redcoats did not mean his intentions were any more honourable.
‘You are frowning, madam, is aught amiss?’
‘Only that I know so little about you, Mr Rathmore.’
‘In these troubled times, perhaps that is for the best.’
‘Perhaps, but that does nothing to quench my curiosity.’
She gave him an encouraging smile and in response his eyes gleamed, but he shook his head.
‘Nay, madam, let it suffice that I am a traveller, making my way to the east coast. I am no one of note. Hardly worthy of your attention. I suggest we talk of more interesting matters.’ He reached for the bottle and refilled their glasses. ‘For instance, your English is excellent, but it is not your native language, I think?’
She raised her brows a little. ‘You tell me nothing of yourself, but expect me to divulge my history?’
‘That would be far more interesting to me.’
She laughed at that and blushed a little. ‘Very well, sir, since I have nothing to hide! You are correct, I am French by birth, but France is no longer my home. I have been travelling through Europe for the past four years.’
‘With your parents?’
She took a sip of wine while she considered how best to answer him.
‘With my father. My mother died when I was a child and when I reached seventeen Papa deemed me old enough to come with him on his travels. They have been extensive, Dresden, Vienna, Rome. Even London, for one brief period. For the past year we have been in Inverness.’
‘He is an ambassador, perhaps?’
The thought made her want to laugh. It was quickly stifled, but she saw his look of surprise.
‘Now, what have I said?’ he demanded.
‘My father has many traits that would be useful for such a post, but, alas, no.’ She took another sip of wine. ‘He lives by his wits. His income is, to say the least, erratic.’
‘A gambler, then.’
She heard the minatory note in his voice and said, with a little touch of hauteur, ‘Nothing sordid, I assure you. Papa is connected to some of the major aristocratic families in France.’
She had no idea if it was true. Papa had told her it was so, but he was always embroidering the stories of his past. However, for some reason it was important that this man did not think her low-born.
‘And what brought you and your father to the Highlands?’
‘Papa has friends here. He never explained it fully.’
That at least was the truth. Maddie knew it would be better if she stopped there. It was safer if she said no more, but for some inexplicable reason she felt she needed to speak, to tell someone.
‘Papa left Inverness two weeks before the battle and I have not seen him since.’
‘He was caught up at Culloden? My condolences—’
‘No, no, you misunderstand. He is not dead. He sent me a note, when it was clear the Jacobite army had been routed, explaining that he could not return and instructing me to make my way to...to a house where I might be safe.’
�
�You told me earlier you were going to stay with friends.’
‘Alas, I am not acquainted with these people.’
‘But they are friends of your father?’
‘I believe so...it is possible that Papa will be waiting for me there.’
‘But even on that point you cannot be sure!’ Grant gave an exasperated hiss. ‘What was your father about, to leave you alone, with the country in such turmoil, and then to send you to a place you do not know, to people whom you cannot trust to help you—it is unforgivable!’
She fluttered one hand. ‘It is not the first time Papa has had to disappear. Or that I have had to rely upon the goodwill of his...contacts. I am grown used to fending for myself, although I confess, this time, it was a blow to lose my maid.’
‘Was your father involved in the recent uprising?’
She was growing accustomed to his blunt manner. What surprised Madeleine was that she felt comfortable enough to confide in him.
‘Possibly, although he did not tell me the nature of his involvement.’ She sighed. ‘I cannot deny Papa likes living by his wits. He positively enjoys the thrill of high-risk ventures, although the rewards never turn out to be as great as he believes they will be at the outset.’
‘He has no right to drag you into his schemes.’
She smiled at that. ‘What else was he to do with me? We have no close family who would take me in—besides, I have been mistress of my father’s household for years now. I should not take kindly to being under another woman’s thumb.’
* * *
Grant could well believe it. There was a self-sufficiency to Mistress d’Evremont that intrigued him. From what she had told him she could not be more than two-and-twenty, but she had the assurance of someone much older—witness how easily she now turned the conversation towards less personal matters.
He followed obligingly. They talked of food, of wine and the weather, neither of them mentioning the recent Jacobite defeat or the current apprehension that gripped the land as government soldiers roamed at will, striking terror into the local inhabitants with their violence and lawlessness. However, he guessed it was still in the lady’s mind, as it was in his. A constant, menacing presence, hanging around and over them like an ugly cloud.
* * *
At last the meal was done and Grant reluctantly acknowledged that he could delay no longer. He wiped his mouth with the napkin and put it down on the table.
‘I am done. My grateful thanks for your hospitality, Miss d’Evremont, but alas, I cannot stay. The moon, such as it is, will be rising now and I must be on my way.’
‘You are going?’ She looked and sounded surprised.
He shrugged. ‘I have a long journey and I am travelling on foot. Besides, in these lawless times it is safer to travel at night. And if you will take my advice, you will not delay in setting off tomorrow.’ He pushed back his chair and stood up. ‘You should ask our host to let one of his men go with you, or two if he can spare them. It is not safe for a woman to be travelling alone.’
The easy mood had gone and she regarded him solemnly, acknowledging the danger they had tried so hard to ignore for the past few hours.
‘You are quite right, I need an escort.’ She raised her eyes to his. ‘Would you come with me?’
Copyright © 2021 by Sarah Mallory
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ISBN-13: 9781488071935
A Marriage of Equals
Copyright © 2021 by Elizabeth Rolls
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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A Marriage of Equals Page 27