Chapter twelve
It was Sunday morning, very early. Holding her running shoes in one hand Darcy crept out, closing the cottage door as quietly as possible -not wanting to wake the children-, before turning towards the cool misty early morning half-light.
She wanted this little bit of time alone,…this ‘quantum of solace’, she thought wryly; reminded of the movie she and Connor had watched, curled up together on the sofa the night before, after Rosie was in tucked in bed and asleep. The movie wasn’t her favourite with Daniel Craig in the Bond role, Darcy mused, his character seeming so cold and emotionally shut-down after the events of the first movie, Casino Royale.
While she’d known the rating was a little above Connor’s age, they’d been desperate for something to watch on the brand new television they’d bought earlier in the day and since French TV was still too advanced for their comprehension skills, had resorted to watching an old movie they had brought from London. Darcy had made use of the remote’s fast-forward button for any sections she thought were less than suitable for an almost-eleven year-old.
She had had a sleepless night as a result of watching -it had made her think about how she had reacted to Patrick’s betrayal of her trust . She hoped she wasn’t going to sink to those depths of distrust in humanity, sure,-maybe she was a bit gun-shy right now but she hadn’t lost all hope that someday she might find happiness again. Eventually, she’d fallen asleep with these thoughts trickling through her subconscious and had woken in the pre-dawn with a sense of determination to keep her heart soft, rather than allowing it to become calloused and unfeeling.
She’d peeped into the children’s rooms before leaving the cottage. It had been hard to see much with the shutters still closed but she could just make out the outline of Rosie, wound up so tightly in her flower-covered duvet that only the top of her red-blond hair was showing. Connor’s batcave would have been darker still but for the weak glow emanating from a batman nightlight plugged into the low wall socket. She’d stretched up on tip-toe to check her son in his elevated bed. Connor was lying on his back; arms askew, with Napoleon snuggled just below his chin. In the short time since they’d installed the bunk bed the agile kitten had learnt to jump from its considerable height to the floor via a shelf on the wall next to the bed and then on to the back of the new sofa-bed to the floor so Darcy knew he could get down if he so chose.
The children’s rooms looked wonderful with all the new furnishings in place. Gabriel had helped move their Ikea purchases into the cottage and had sent an electrician around to wire in the new light fittings. With all the rooms set up the little cottage had been instantly transformed from a slightly dingy hollow shell into a comfortable home for her small family.
Plastering and painting, Darcy had told Gabriel when he’d suggested she wait a few more days at the gîte while he got the contractor in to redecorate, could wait ‘til a future date. She felt it was more important, after so much upheaval, for the children to have spaces of their own and some routine in their lives than perfectly finished walls.
Rising from the bench where she’d sat to put her shoes on Darcy began walking, waving hers arms in circles to warm herself before breaking into a slow jog. The sweats she was wearing felt as if they fit more snuggly than the last time she’d worn them …maybe she’d have to cut down on the croissants and pastries she thought reluctantly, or she’d have an ass the size of Africa.
With this thought in mind she headed out the lane gate and along the asphalt road towards the old southern entrance to the chateau -the one she had stopped at on the day of their arrival. Depending on how much energy she still had when she arrived at the gate she planned to either cut back through the woods to run a shorter route to the cottage or carry on along the road until it met with the main road leading back to the village. It had been a while since she’d jogged so she would see how it went before deciding whether to take her longer or shorter option.
In the fifteen minutes it took Darcy to run to reach the south entrance she was wheezing badly enough that she opted for the shorter cross-country route. She hung her arms over the gate for a minute or two, not even pretending to admire the view of the chateau that she had appreciated so much on her first sight of it from this gate, getting her breath back before climbing up and over.
The mist hovered just above ground level and clung to her hair and skin in a light sheen. The scary cows that had inhabited these fields when she’d first stopped here had all gone back to wherever they’d come from earlier in the weekend, which was a good thing, Darcy thought with relief. When she had inquired about their absence, Gabriel had told her that the fields had been leased to a local farmer, but the lease had expired with the sale of the chateau. She and the children had taken the opportunity to explore this section of the chateau grounds the day before, finding that the cattle had left some useful tracks through the woods, as well as numerous cow pats for the unwary. She’d have to watch the ground while she was running or risk stepping in something squishy and smelly. Still a little winded and thinking to take the shortest route, Darcy set off, jogging slowly through the trees along one of these paths, her head down, concentrating on where she was putting her feet.
The chateau had once had a narrow carriageway leading from the southern gate that curved sharply away to the right, circumnavigating a shallow duck pond before running straight for a hundred yards or so between two double-spaced rows of Chestnut trees. With the northern drive now wider and asphalted this driveway appeared to have fallen into disuse. It had been left so that the trees now crowded closely either side of the leaf-strewn lane, their branches intertwining overhead to form a green shady tunnel that might be pleasant on a sunny day, but was somewhat eerie on a misty morning such as this.
Feeling her breathing settling into a better rhythm and wanting to add some distance to her run, Darcy left the carriageway before it entered the avenue, opting to jog a more sinuous route towards the lane The cow paths ran at right angles to the drive, crossing the carriageway at regular intervals. She was just about to set foot on the lane having come out from behind the trunk of one of the large old chestnuts that edged the drive when she felt, rather than saw something whizz past her face very close to her cheek.
“Arretez! Stop!” Darcy froze in mid-step in response to the thunderingly loud voice bellowing angrily from the drive to her left.
Turning towards the sound, Darcy took a sharp indrawn breath that had nothing to do with her running. Instantly, she could feel all the blood draining away from her face. There was Gabriel, standing in a wide legged stance, twenty feet down the lane, with his body half-turned towards her …but it was the lethal-looking arrow notched in a tightly drawn bow which he held, pointed directly at her that caught her full attention.
“Move back behind those trees and stay there. Now!” he commanded in a tone that gave nothing away of the horror he’d felt when he’d seen her run out from among the trees just as he was in the act of firing a fast volley of arrows at the target he had in place forty yards further down the track. Not daring to move, he stood immobile and rock solid, but she could tell from his face and straining arms that he was struggling to keep the tautly held arrow from being released. At his distance she wouldn’t stand a chance.
Following his curt instructions, she chose flight over fright and hastily stepped back to hide behind the thick trunks of the trees lining the drive, leaning her back against the wide sheltering bulk of the nearest chestnut tree. Now that she was facing in the opposite direction she could easily make out a circular target with a neat array of arrows centred on its brightly painted bullseye, placed some distance away farther down the lane.
Once she was out of danger, fright took over: her legs started to feel rubbery and incapable of holding her up and she was having trouble getting air. She could feel her peripheral vision starting to turn misty, it was becoming increasingly harder to breathe, and she was definitely losing control of her limbs. She sensed that the mist was a pr
ecursor to fainting,… incapable of standing any longer, she could feel herself sliding down the tree’s trunk to slump at the base when she heard the solid thunk of an arrow hitting its intended target. Milliseconds later Gabriel appeared, a bow hanging from one hand. He shot out his other hand to grab her, stopping her from falling. All Darcy could see was his murderously angry face obscuring the diminishing pool of vision she had left. It gave his head a sort of fuzzy halo effect, but the face did not look as if belonged to any sort of celestial being, more like something that originated from somewhere below ground and much hotter.
“What on earth were you thinking?” he was still shouting, incoherent with an outrage fuelled by gut-wrenching fear “I could have shot you!” He hung the bow off a low hanging branch on the tree beside him before grasping both her arms just above the elbow. He dearly wanted to give her a good shake, but one look at her pallid features and unfocused eyes showed him how badly frightened she was. Instead, he drew her to himself, hugging her tightly against his warm body. She dropped her head on his chest, eyes closed, feeling his heart pounding under her cheek as they both struggled to regain equilibrium. After a few moments she opened her eyes, the fog that had nothing to do with the morning’s mist had started to clear and she could feel her legs again so she made to push back from the intimacy of being held so closely, but he tightened one arm around her waist, not allowing her any freedom. With the other hand he tipped her face up towards his own and she could feel his warm breath on her cold cheeks. Surely he didn’t intend to kiss her? She thought warily.
He didn’t. Instead he said, with an abruptness that revealed his underlying rage and concern, “You shouldn’t be here. And why the hell did you try to run through the shooting range? I’d put out enough warning cones to stop Napoleon’s army.” He turned her face to the right to show closely spaced fluorescent orange cones placed at regular intervals between the trees, the glaringly bright cones decorated with pictorial warnings that showed a bow and arrow as well as written warnings. Well, she thought belatedly, I’ll never forget what ‘Tir a L’arc En Cours’ stands for in the future.
“I’m sorry,” she said, nervous laughter betraying her distraught emotions, “I wasn’t watching –I was looking down at my feet. I didn’t want to get my running shoes dirty by stepping in a cow pat.” It sounded like a lame excuse but it was true, she thought.
“Cow dung isn’t going to make a neat hole in you here and kill you,” he angrily poked a finger in the centre of her chest, “And you almost ruined my perfect accident-free record,” he tried to smile but there was still too much fear for what might have happened if she’d burst from the trees a split-second earlier bubbling inside of him for it to form properly. The result was more grimace than happy face. He could still remember exactly how shattering it had been to feel the arrow he’d been on the point of releasing slipping through his grip.
“I know, I wasn’t watching,” she repeated despondently, “I’ve said I’m sorry.” She stared fixedly at his chest unwilling to look him in the eye at this close proximity.
“I suppose it’s partly my fault as well,” he continued to hold her, looking down at her face. Colour was beginning to seep back into her pale cheeks. “I should have warned you last night that I was thinking of setting up a practice range here and I suppose the signs should have been in English as well. I set up well away from the chateau on purpose, but I never imagined you would be out here at this time of the morning.” He shook his head, still trying to dispel the sight of her darting from behind the tree as he was on the point of letting go the arrow, “I didn’t know you were an early morning jogger.”
“I’m not, or at least I was but I haven’t been for a while. This is the first morning I’ve been out since we arrived,” she spoke a little breathlessly. She was increasingly aware of how tightly she was being held and started to back away from him, but his arm around her waist became more rigid in response, limiting her movement, “I left the children asleep in bed and now I need to get back,” she said nervously.
“I’m sure a couple of minutes here or there will not make any difference.” Looking up at his face, Darcy noted that his smile was becoming more predatory than placating. He lowered his head closer to hers and breathed in deeply; she smelt good, slightly sweaty from the run with underlying fragrances of roses and lavender from her shampoo and soap.
Keeping his hold, he backed her up two paces until she was wedged between his own body and the tree, angling his face down to place an experimental feather-light kiss to the top of her forehead. Darcy stood frozen, unaware that she was holding her breath but neither encouraging nor repelling his advances. Taking advantage of her indecision, Gabriel continued soft kisses over her eyebrows, her eyes, and then down her nose until he reached her lips. Once there, he began by kissing her top lip, sucking at the tender flesh before he covered her mouth with his own, all thoughts of experimentation forgotten as he took the kiss deeper.
Despite her best intentions to remain aloof, Darcy found herself responding, kissing him back with a passion she hadn’t know she possessed. Feeling her changed response Gabriel took control of her mouth, using his tongue in a manner that further weakened Darcy’s resolve to remain uninvolved. His fingers were behind her head, pulling her curls from the restraining hair tie; Rosie’s again, that she’d used to restrain her hair before starting her run and her own hands had somehow found their way under his shirt to caress the muscles along his back. Pressed as she was between the solid trunk and his body she was left in no doubt about how aroused he had become and her own body was letting her know that she found him pretty above-average attractive as well. So much for professionalism, a little voice chirpily quipped, from somewhere deep in the recesses of her sane mind.
About then, the feel of the rough bark through her sports top suddenly brought back to Darcy the conversation they’d had in the café at Ikea. She didn’t want to be just another ‘conquest’ in the woods; a trophy to add to Gabriel’s collection. She abruptly stopped kissing him, awkwardly pulling her hands out from under his shirt and tried to squirm away, pushing at his chest with both hands. As involved as he was, it took Gabriel a moment to notice the change, but breathing heavily as if he’d been running himself, he released her.
“What’s wrong?’ he asked, “Did I hurt you?”
“I can’t do this,” even to Darcy’s own ears, the words sounded lame, but she didn’t feel she had the energy to go into a lengthy explanation about why she didn’t’ want to get involved with a man, especially this man, right now.
“I’ve got to go,” she turned her body from his, intending to walk away, but his hand that had been loosely holding her wrist tightened, holding her an arm length away from him.
“You were enjoying yourself as much as I was,” Gabriel’s eyes were still wide and dark with desire and he could feel the rapid beat of her pulse under his fingertips. “Why the sudden change of heart?”
“I just remembered something that I promised myself …and besides, she spoke briskly, I don’t want to be another bit of ‘fun’ in the woods,”
He swore softly, “I’m going to wish I hadn’t told you that, aren’t I?” he sensed she wasn’t telling the whole truth, “but, come on, I told you that it was years ago, when I was little more than a randy young boy,” he said, “You might give me some credit for learning a bit of finesse in the years since.” He eyed her flushed face and unruly hair, messed from where his fingers had run through the corkscrewed curls. Her richly coloured locks had a wildness about them that he was now sure would be shared by the rest of her, if only he could break through her defensiveness. And his hands itched and all but twitched to get back among those curls.
She regarded him with narrowed eyes, saying nothing.
“What did you think?” he couldn’t resist taunting, “That I was planning on taking you right here and now, with the leaves as our bed?”
“Wouldn’t you?” she threw back, “If I’d let you.” She finall
y managed to tug her hand from his and stepped away another couple of paces. Despite her self-imposed vow to remain uninvolved with the male of the species, her body was reminding her how good it had felt to be held by him. Common sense said that it felt safer to keep a little distance between them.
“Well, unless you come back here, we won’t know,” he challenged, raising an eyebrow in a mocking query. “Wouldn’t you like to be sure?” he raised a hand in a come-hither gesture.
Darcy’s reply was to turn from him and break into an uneven run. She abandoned the cow-path route in favour of the more direct lane, choosing the path of least resistance and suddenly keen to get back to the cottage and her children.
“You needn’t think this is the end of it,” he spoke quietly and assuredly to her retreating back as he stood watching her go …the sight of her derriere as she ran away from him in those close fitting sweat pants was pleasant enough, but nothing compared to the enjoyment he’d derived from kissing and caressing her. And she’d been a willing participant, once she’d defrosted a bit. He was going to capitalize on that …and sooner rather than later, he decided, as she ran into the misty light at the end of the avenue and away out of his sight.
He retrieved his bow and went back to take out some of his frustration on the practice range target, it was probably a good thing, he thought as he nocked the next arrow and raised it to shoot, that the furnace in the chateau wasn’t yet operational and the showers were only running cold water.
Collecting Thoughts Page 12