by Rue Allyn
“That presents a significant problem.” Richard wanted to avoid roads for as long as possible to prevent leaving a trail for Malveux.
“Did the wife see which way you went?” René asked.
“Yes, but I walked off in the other direction then made my way back here through the trees at the edge of the road.”
“Excellent,” Richard said. “If we make our way north and west through these woods, we can probably avoid the town altogether and emerge on the Dieppe road.”
“That will take too much time,” René protested. “We’re already losing time by heading for Dieppe.”
“What of the robbers?” Mari added.
“Speed is less important than avoiding capture. We must do everything we can to keep Malveux guessing as to where we are. As for the thieves, we are likely to encounter them anywhere, so forewarned is forearmed. I doubt they will bother us. We look like we haven’t a sou between us.” Richard glanced pointedly at the bedraggled dresses his companions wore.
René blushed and stood. “It’s long past time I got out of this dress.”
“No,” Richard and Mari said in unison.
She turned wide eyes on him and a flush colored her cheeks.
“Why?” groused René. “The cursed thing is tight across my chest and vastly uncomfortable. I don’t see how you can stand to wear this kind of garment, cousin.”
Mari only shrugged. She had expected a snippy comment.
“As far as we know, no one saw you and Mari take me from the palace grounds. So Malveux is still looking for two men and a woman. With you in that dress we don’t fit that description. He also doesn’t know I’m wearing the uniform of the old guard. Now we’d best be away. Lingering anywhere is risky.”
He rose and nearly dropped to the ground.
“Richard!” Mari rushed to his side, René right behind her. She wedged herself beneath his right arm, René on his left.
They stood that way for several moments. “It’s just a dizzy spell. I’ll be fine.”
“Can you ride?” Worry knitted lines in her brow as she looked up at him.
“I have no choice. We cannot stay here. Mari, fetch my horse.”
She looked as if she might object.
“He’s right, and now is not the time to argue, cousin.”
Her mouth set in a thin line, she moved out from under Richard’s arm.
“Help me mount, Trouvé.”
By the time he was in the saddle, he was weak and sweating from the effort. Mari had gone back for the other two mounts, but René saw him sway. The younger man steadied Richard then handed him a canteen of water.
“Thank you,” he murmured as Mari returned on her horse towing René’s steed behind her. At last they set off, René in the lead and Mari bringing up the rear.
Chapter Sixteen
The heat of the April day had faded with the light, and the night had become more than chill. Richard sat a foot away from Mari on the same fallen tree and stared into the small fire ringed with stones. Anything larger would draw attention, but they’d needed some way to cook the hare he’d killed and butchered, as well as mitigate the now frigid temperature.
Marielle shivered, and he sidled closer, took the short military cloak from his shoulders, then wrapped it around her.
“Thank you.”
“You should retire,” he said, as he eased away to avoid showing how deeply concerned he was for her. “Today was long and difficult. Tomorrow could well be worse. We won’t be out of these woods for several more days, so you must rest when you can.”
She raised her head, her eyes dull, and lids drooping. “I am weary beyond words, but I doubt I could sleep. I’m too worried about Tante Vivienne and what Malveux might do.”
“At this point we can do little to affect either one. Please lie down and rest. Whether you sleep or not, it will do you good. And when René returns from cleaning up, he will be relieved to think you sleep.”
She sighed. “Very well.”
“Excellent.” He rose and held out his hand. “Allow me to escort you to your couch, mademoiselle.”
The corners of her mouth lifted, and she took his hand to stand. “Thank you, kind sir.”
“You are most welcome.”
Arm in arm they circled the fire, stopping on the opposite side where her bedroll and René’s had been laid out. Richard had forgone spreading his blankets. He would stand watch the entire night. Tomorrow would be soon enough to share that duty.
He grasped both of her hands, lowering her to the ground then placing the cover over her.
“Did you camp like this often during the war?” she asked.
“Unless we were near a town.” He took in the expression of honest curiosity on her face. “Even then, junior officers were not always able to find quarters. Frequently, however, we had a tent for privacy. It was the enlisted men who slept in the open most often. They had a hard lot.”
He fell silent. Remembering the trials of war would weaken him emotionally, and he could afford no vulnerability until he knew Marielle was safe. She was a weakness of another kind, distracting, fascinating, and entirely too desirable. She, too, must be pushed from his thoughts.
“Do you plan to stand watch over me all night?”
He shook away his thoughts and noticed that she trembled beneath the blanket. “No. I’ll find a hidden spot from which to keep an eye on the deer track and camp.”
He’d already found a spot high in one of the sturdier trees adjacent to the path they traveled. He only waited for René’s return before climbing to his night-time perch. He should leave, go tend the fire or do something constructive, but his boots remained anchored to the spot beside Mari.
He looked into the distance, unable to bear that steady cinnamon gaze. Life would be infinitely better, sweeter, if he could kiss her, hold her for just a little while.
Beneath the blanket she rubbed her upper arms.
“You’re still cold.” He stalked off. What had he been doing, woolgathering like that when Mari was cold? He returned to her with his blanket in his hands and spread it over her.
“What are you doing?” She started to sit up.
“Lie still.” He knelt and tucked the blanket around her. “You were shivering.”
“But I already have your short cloak, and this is the last blanket. I’ll not allow you to freeze just to be noble.” She began to push the covering away.
He grabbed her hands, thrust them below the blanket, and withdrew his hands as quickly as possible. He tucked the blankets around her shoulders.
“This has nothing to do with nobility. If you take a chill and fall ill, you will slow us down and increase the likelihood we will be found.”
She stared at him, a petulant twist to her lovely mouth. He could see her building an argument.
“I’ve done much worse than spend a cold night without a blanket. Believe me, I’ll manage. It wouldn’t do to get too comfortable while on guard duty. I might fall asleep. Then any robber or wild creature could sneak up and attack.”
Her mouth relaxed as he spoke, and she no longer trembled.
“I can see that you will not compromise, and if you truly will be fine, then I thank you for the extra covering.”
“You’re welcome, milady.” He bowed, resuming his earlier playful role of polite escort.
She batted her eyelashes. “Good night, kind sir.”
“Sleep well, Mari.” He turned his back and walked off. He nodded at René when he came back into camp. Then Richard put as much distance as possible between him and temptation.
He wanted Mari very much. So much that his heart literally ached at the idea she might reject his proposal. Asking for her hand after those incredible moments in the folly was the proper thing, the right thing. But so was Mari’s refusal. A second son should never aspire to wed a duchess. But it wasn’t her duchy that he wanted. He wanted Mari. He wanted the hope of a future that held the laughter of a bright, spice-eyed little girl. He wanted da
ys and nights filled with the challenge and excitement of Mari as his wife. She’d been horrified at the idea of a potential pregnancy. If there was a child, he’d not allow her to abandon it. He’d find a way to make her see the advantages of their marriage. A child needed both its parents, and Richard needed Mari.
• • •
Mari woke to the sound of rain pattering on leaves and a sense of increasing damp. She felt surprisingly refreshed, despite the aches acquired by lying all night on the ground. Hopefully, the rain would ease up, perhaps stop altogether. Riding in the rain, even a rain this gentle, for any length of time could be miserable. Of course, being soaked to the skin was infinitely better than being captured by Malveux.
A foot or two away René still slept.
Where was Richard?
She nudged her cousin to wakefulness then bustled about the camp, preparing a breakfast of cheese, bread, and coffee. About the time René joined her, Richard strolled into the clearing. Dark circles rimmed his eyes, and he yawned once.
“How’s your head?” René asked.
“The ache is mostly gone.” Richard shrugged and focused on Mari.
“Excellent.” She couldn’t be close to him when he studied her like a crumpet he wanted to eat but wouldn’t. She dusted her hands, rose, and began to put away the bedding and other items used during the stay in the glade.
“Here, let me take that.” Richard took the stack of folded bedding from her and efficiently stowed it in the saddlebags then began to saddle the horses.
Her heart pounded, and a tiny ache unfurled deep in her stomach. His broad shoulders carried the heaviest loads, those long legs sped to aid her, the lean-fingered hands had stroked and soothed, the knife-sharp mind, and his face that could hide secrets or laugh with stunning openness. He was not always kind, but he treated her with much more respect than when he first forced her to travel with him. If René weren’t here, would Richard be the passionate, careful lover of the Fontainebleau folly? Yes, he’d proposed, but only out of obligation. If they hadn’t made love, he would have surely kept his distance. He must still blame her for Jennings’s death, despite what she’d told him of Malveux’s plots. She could not blame Richard for believing her responsible. He’d been fighting to save England at the time. A betrayal of his friend and fellow officer would feel like a betrayal of himself.
She sighed and gathered another armful of items.
René used the last of the coffee to douse the fire and gave her the pot to add to her collection.
“Tell Richard I’ll be along as soon as I cover these ashes and make it look as if we were never here.”
Mari nodded.
Richard brought her mount over. The twinge just below her heart pulled at her. She ignored it. Instead she placed her foot in Richard’s cupped hands and allowed him to help her into the saddle. She arranged her skirts while the men mounted, and soon they were off. This time Richard brought up the rear.
Ahead of her René sneezed and hunched into his shawl.
By the time they paused to eat and rest the horses, her cousin was suffering from a full- blown cold.
“You need something hot to drive out the chill. Richard, find us firewood. I know of a tea from tree bark that could be helpful,” she said.
He shook his head at her. “Sorry, no fire. We can’t afford the time or the attention that smoke would draw. And believe me, anything we tried to burn would put out more smoke than flame.”
“Do you want René to get worse? He’ll slow us down for certain if we don’t treat his cold now.” She stamped her foot.
“Do you want to spend the rest of your life in a French prison under Malveux’s tender care? That is what will happen if he finds us.”
Mari sniffed. Richard was right, but she would not be bullied.
“Stop it right now,” René ordered. “Richard is right, Mari. You can dose me tonight for as long as you wish. Now let’s get going.”
Mari glared at Richard, who turned on his heel and strode to his horse. She could do nothing but follow his lead.
• • •
Three days passed with drizzly monotony. The rain made travel more difficult, but they could not afford to stop. René’s health did not improve despite Mari’s every effort to treat his cold with teas, tinctures, and possets from nature’s supply. He steadfastly refused to allow her to rub his chest with a smelly concoction of sap, moss, and beetle dung, which she’d been at great pains to collect. Now he’d developed a hacking cough and shook continually. At their midday pause on the fourth day of sodden travel through the woods, she felt his forehead and confirmed her suspicions. He was burning up,
“Richard, come here.”
René swayed where he stood beside his horse. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine,” he enunciated. As if proper elocution would make his illness disappear.
She faced Richard. “He’s on fire with fever. Look at him. He can’t even stand solidly on his own feet. He’s in no condition to ride.”
Frowning, Richard stopped before her with the horses, his brow lowered.
Mari swept round to discover what René could possibly have done to earn Richard’s frown.
Somehow, her cousin had managed to gain his saddle where he continued to sway while one foot searched haphazardly for a stirrup.
Finally, his foot found the proper place, and he grinned at them. “See, perfectly fine.” His horse sidled, and he nearly fell off before he caught his balance.
Richard sighed and shook his head. “You’re right, Mari. René is in no shape to ride. However, we have little choice. We should reach the end of the wood today and be very near the main crossroad. Once there, we shouldn’t have to travel but a short league or so before we find shelter. René will recover better in bed. And if we have to spend a day or two in one place, I’d rather it be under a solid roof. We’re all weary and could use a rest.”
“How can you be certain of finding shelter?”
“I’m not certain,” he stated testily. “But you are so determined to physic René, the possibility of an inn or tavern is the best I can offer.”
Mari bit back any argument. The possibility of shelter was enough to lure her onward.
“However,” Richard continued, “we’d best tie René to his saddle, else he’ll fall off and we’ll lose time getting him back on his horse.”
Mari turned to René, who had gone silent and sat slumped and snoring over his horse’s neck. “I see what you mean.”
Richard looped the rope attached to René’s saddle around her cousin’s waist then fashioned a sort of harness.
“Another skill learned during the war?” she asked.
“You couldn’t always take time to ride back to the surgeon’s tent with a wounded man. You learned to tie this kind of harness and pray the horse would find its way behind the lines.”
He helped her mount, secured the reins of René’s horse to a lead attached to her saddle, pulled himself aboard his own steed, and they were off again.
Had Richard tied Jennings like that? He’d been present to hear her fiancé’s last words, but that could as easily have been when Richard returned from fighting to find his friend at death’s door as in the midst of the battle. Either way, to tend to Jennings, Richard would have had to stop fighting, possibly during heavy fire from the enemy. What kind of man risked his own safety, his own life, to help a badly wounded or dying fellow soldier? Yes, Jennings and he had been lifelong friends, but still. Richard had been in danger of losing his life.
And she’d chastised him for not taking more time, more care with Jennings. What kind of woman would treat such generosity with anger and contempt? She should have apologized long ago. She would do so at the first opportunity. Pray heaven he would forgive her for that and all her other sins.
Night fell as they emerged from the trees. With clouds blocking even the faintest star-glimmer, the dark was absolute. Mari paused. Richard moved past René and drew rein beside her. She stared out at what she hoped was
a road. Streams of water as wide as Richard’s arm was long rushed past along the verge.
“Stay here. I’ll reconnoiter.”
Mari nodded.
Slowly, he guided his horse from the edge of the trees through the drowned verge and onto a swath of mud. It stretched on either side of him as far as she could see in the dark and downpour.
He started to head north but stopped before he’d gone three strides.
What was he doing? She could barely see him. If he went any farther, he might never find her when he rode back.
“Mari, come out and follow me.” She came up alongside him trailing her cousin behind. “Let’s keep moving.”
They walked their steeds toward the north.
“Are you sure it’s safe? What happened to reconnoitering?”
“Only fools and the desperate would be out on such a night.”
“Malveux is desperate.”
“True, but he’s likely to be the only one other than us. He’d have to have the devil’s luck to find us right now.”
“Malveux seems to make his own luck.”
“Because he has an impressive network of informants who keep him apprised of every event in their areas. Anyone we encounter could be part of that network.”
Mari shivered. “Nonetheless, we need to find shelter. René will die if he’s exposed to this weather much longer. I did not come all this way, risk life, limb, and reputation just to have my cousin expire from an ague.”
The trees on either side of the road began to thin. With each step into the open, Mari’s shoulders tightened. She had to force her hands not to jerk on the reins.
“I’m not arguing with you. Right now, René’s health is paramount. I am simply suggesting you watch what you say in the presence of others. Innkeeper, maid, ostler, servant, master—anyone could report our presence to Malveux.”
Impressive how he could sit relaxed in the saddle yet issue stern cautions against risky encounters.
“Very well, I will be careful. But I cannot answer for René. He’s out of his mind with fever and as likely to babble his life story as he is to be silent.”
“Should he rave, we can only handle it when it happens.”