Return of the Runaway

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Return of the Runaway Page 21

by Sarah Mallory


  When they were sitting down on either side of the fireplace, Miss Tatham continued.

  ‘Pray, do call me Ellen. Your grandmother has been kind enough to take me under her wing for my come-out. She has looked after me in London for most of the Season, but I wanted to assure you that I have not in any way usurped your place in her affections, Lady Cassandra. She has been so worried for you, but I hope I have helped her to bear it.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Cassie politely. ‘I am sure you have helped to divert her mind. But you must be sorry to have left London.’

  ‘Not a bit of it,’ Ellen reassured her. ‘I had had quite enough of balls and parties. I was delighted to come here while Alex and Diana are away. And you must not think I allow Lady Hune to tire herself out running after the children. They spend most of their day with Nurse and myself.’

  ‘Ah, yes, the children. I have not seen them for some years. How are they?’

  ‘Quite delightful, and they are growing so fast, Florence especially. She celebrated her ninth birthday recently and is going to be very tall, I think.’

  ‘Like her father,’ murmured Cassie.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘Oh, nothing. When do you expect Lord and Lady Davenport to return?’

  ‘Lady Hune had a letter from them only today: they are even now on their way back to Chantreys and should be with us in two weeks. As soon as they return I shall rejoin my stepmama and the marchioness plans to take you to Bath with her.’ Miss Tatham rearranged the folds of her white-muslin skirts. ‘And the gentleman who escorted you to England—Monsieur Doulevant, is it not? Will he accompany you to Bath?’

  ‘Oh, no, I would not think so.’ Cassie hoped she sounded indifferent. ‘Although I shall ask Grandmama to give him her patronage. He will require help, I think, if he is to avoid being taken as a prisoner of war. Not that he is French,’ she hurried on. ‘He is from the Southern Netherlands, which was under Austrian rule for a long time. Raoul deeply resents Bonaparte claiming his country as part of France.’

  She felt the heat in her cheeks when she realised she had used Raoul’s name, but her visitor feigned not to notice and she was grateful for that.

  ‘And is he from a noble family?’

  Cassie could not prevent a heartbeat’s hesitation before she responded.

  ‘No. He is a surgeon. A very skilled surgeon.’

  ‘Ah. I see.’

  Cassie doubted it, but she said nothing more.

  ‘I had best go.’ Miss Tatham rose gracefully. ‘I am so pleased to have met you, Lady Cassandra.’

  ‘Please, call me Cassie.’

  ‘Very well, then, Cassie. We will meet again at dinner, when you shall introduce me to your very skilled surgeon.’

  ‘Of course. Tell me, which room is Lady Hune occupying?’

  ‘Her door is the last one on this passage and she may well be awake by now.’ Ellen twinkled at her. ‘You need not be afraid to go and see—her terrifying dresser will soon send you about your business if she is asleep!’

  With that she whisked herself out of the room and Cassie was alone again, but she no longer wished to lie down. Quickly she washed her face and hands and went off to find her grandmother.

  Duffy opened the door to her and Cassie was well enough acquainted with her grandmother’s dresser to recognise the relief and affection behind the woman’s brusque manner.

  ‘Oh, so you’ve come back to us, have you, my lady? And about time, too, if you forgive my saying so.’

  She was interrupted by an imperious voice.

  ‘Who is it, Duffy? Is it Cassandra? Let her come in.’

  The dresser stepped back and Cassie entered the room. Lady Hune was sitting in a wing chair by the window, regally attired in her customary black with white-lace ruffles at her neck and wrists.

  ‘Yes, Grandmama, I am here.’

  ‘Then come closer, where I can see you.’

  Cassie took a few slow, hesitant steps forward, but then the marchioness put out her hands and with a sob Cassie threw herself on her knees before her chair and buried her face in her skirts. Her grandmother gently stroked her curls.

  ‘Well, my love, what is the matter this time?’

  Cassie gave a watery chuckle.

  ‘You used to say that to me whenever I was in a scrape.’

  ‘And is that not the case now?’

  ‘No. Yes! Oh, Grandmama, I am so unhappy!’

  * * *

  Between gulping sobs and fresh tears Cassie told the marchioness what had happened since she had left Bath a year ago. The narrative was not quite complete; she spoke of Gerald’s gambling, but not his weakness for women, nor did she describe those final few months in Verdun when money was short and Gerald’s mood had changed. When it came to explaining her meeting with Raoul she said merely that he had been her escort. She did not mention the heavenly night she had spent in his arms, but Lady Hune was not deceived.

  ‘This Monsieur Doulevant...’ Lady Sophia handed Cassie a fresh handkerchief. ‘You think you love him?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You thought yourself in love with Witney.’

  Cassie wiped her eyes.

  ‘He is nothing like Gerald, Grandmama. Raoul is good and generous and so very kind. If you could have seen how he toiled to save those poor souls at Flagey! I love him so much.’

  ‘And what is his family?’

  ‘His father was a doctor in Brussels—’

  ‘He is not French, then?’

  ‘No, ma’am. His family are from the Netherlands.’

  ‘Well, that’s a mercy. I lost too many friends during the Terror to feel any warmth towards the French.’

  Cassie gave a little huff of impatience.

  ‘All this makes little difference, ma’am, since we are not to be married. We are both agreed on that.’ Cassie tried to smile but it went sadly awry. ‘We have known each other for such a short time, it is inconceivable that we can have formed a lasting attachment.’

  If Cassie expected her grandmother to contradict her she was disappointed. Lady Hune gave a loud sigh of relief.

  ‘Well, I am glad you both have the sense to see that.’

  ‘That is what I have been trying to tell myself.’ Cassie’s head bowed and she said in a small voice, ‘But he loves me, Grandmama.’

  ‘Has he said as much?’

  Cassie paused. There had been endearments, but no outright declaration.

  ‘Not exactly.’

  ‘Then I will give him credit for that, too.’

  ‘He is a good man, an honourable man, Grandmama. He risked his life to help me, but he will not marry me, even though he has no money and he knows I shall come of age in a few months and will then have control of my own fortune. I will have enough money to keep us both.’

  ‘I like him better and better!’

  ‘Pray, ma’am, do not jest with me.’

  ‘I have never been more serious, my love. Even if he were not from a country that is now annexed by France and therefore our enemy, to marry a man who is so far outside your sphere, a man with no money, no expectations—it would be a disaster. You would hate one another within the year.’

  Cassie’s head dropped even lower. She had tried to tell herself the very same thing. She wiped her eyes. She must try to forget her own unhappiness and think of Raoul.

  ‘I want you to help him, Grandmama. I cannot bear the thought of his being locked away as a prisoner of war.’

  ‘What do you expect me to do, child?’

  ‘I do not think he will accept money, he is too proud for that. But perhaps you could use your influence to keep him from prison and perhaps to find him a position. Or help him to return to Brussels.’ Cassie looked down at clasped hands. ‘I quite see
that we cannot marry, I am resigned to that, but I owe him a great debt, Grandmama.’

  Lady Hune pursed her lips, considering. At last she nodded.

  ‘I shall talk to Monsieur Doulevant at dinner and I will see what I can do for him.’

  ‘Thank you, ma’am.’

  Cassie leaned against the marchioness’s skirts again and felt her grandmother’s frail fingers smoothing her hair. It did not take away the ache that gnawed at her, but it was comforting.

  ‘Let us move on to other matters,’ said Lady Hune at last. ‘You saw my great-nephew, Wolfgang Arrandale? I am glad my letters reached him.’

  ‘So, too, am I,’ said Cassie. ‘We could not have escaped without his help, only I fear it might have cost him dear.’ She raised her head and directed an anxious look at the marchioness. ‘I have no idea if he is safe. We were pursued by French officers and he rode off to draw them away. We heard shots—’

  ‘Worrying about him will do no good,’ said Lady Hune prosaically. ‘Wolfgang Arrandale has lived on his wits for the past nine years, we can only hope he has survived.’

  ‘The thing is,’ said Cassie, frowning, ‘he did not know he had a daughter, for he has avoided all contact with his family until now. He told me to give her a kiss from him.’ She looked up. ‘Should we tell Florence, Grandmama? It would be heartbreaking to raise false hopes in such a little girl.’

  ‘Then let us wait until we have word that he is safe,’ said Lady Hune. ‘Wolfgang was always a wild one, but I am grateful to him for helping to send you back to me.’ She looked at Cassie, her eyes suspiciously bright, before saying in her usual sharp tone, ‘But enough of this. It will soon be time for dinner and you must change, my dear. There was no time to send for your clothes from Bath—oh, yes, Cassandra, I have kept everything, just as it was when you eloped—but my protégée has looked out a couple of her dresses for you and Duffy will bring them to your room. Ellen is about your size, as you will see when you will meet her at dinner.’

  ‘I have already done so, ma’am. She came to my room a little while ago. I thought her very charming.’

  ‘She is a baggage,’ said Lady Hune, not mincing her words. ‘She reminds me very much of you, which must be why I like her so much.’

  Cassie picked up one of the gnarled hands and kissed the beringed fingers. She said penitently. ‘I am very sorry to have caused you so much trouble, Grandmama.’

  ‘Yes, yes, well, be off with you now, or we shall both of us be late for dinner! And dry your eyes, Cassandra. An Arrandale does not show a woebegone face to the world!’

  * * *

  Raoul received the summons to join the Dowager Marchioness of Hune and he made his way immediately to the drawing room. He passed a large mirror in the hall and it took a conscious effort not to stop before it and make a few final adjustments to his neckcloth. He was no lackey to fawn and cower before an English aristocrat. He entered the room to find the marchioness alone and sitting in a chair beside the fire. Her back was ramrod straight and her black dress was as severe as her countenance. She had an abundance of silver hair crowned by a cap of fine Mechlin lace and she held a black cane in one hand while the other rested on the arm of the chair, a king’s ransom in jewels sparkling on her fingers. A matriarch, if ever he had seen one! She regarded him as he approached, her blue eyes sharp and assessing.

  ‘I must thank you, Monsieur Doulevant, for escorting my granddaughter safely to England.’

  He made his bow. ‘It was a pleasure, Lady Hune.’

  ‘My nephew Arrandale said in his message to me that you are a doctor.’

  ‘No, ma’am. I am a surgeon.’

  ‘Ah. That makes all the difference.’

  ‘I am aware.’ His pulled himself up a little straighter. ‘In France, my lady, surgeons are beginning to receive the recognition they deserve.’

  Those sharp eyes snapped at him.

  ‘But we are in England, monsieur, and presently at war with France.’

  Raoul held his tongue. It would do no good to antagonise the marchioness. He would be gone soon enough. He did not speak again until he was once more in control of his temper.

  ‘Lady Hune, I do not know how much your granddaughter has told you of our journey together.’

  ‘Enough.’

  His neckcloth felt too tight, but he resisted the temptation to run a finger around it.

  ‘I am aware, ma’am, in such circumstances, a gentleman should make an offer of marriage to Lady Cassandra, but as you say so truly, we are in England now and I am not regarded as a gentleman here. I believe you would think me presumptuous to aspire to the hand of your granddaughter.’

  ‘You are correct, monsieur, I would. But it is not only the disparity in your birth that makes it an ineligible match. There is another, and to my mind an even more important, reason you should not offer for her.’ Those sharp old eyes regarded him steadily. ‘I do not believe you could make Cassandra happy. If she married you, society would turn its back on her. Would you really wish to remove her from the comfort of her family and friends, from the life she has known since birth?’

  ‘No, ma’am, I would not.’

  ‘We are agreed, then.’

  He met her gaze.

  ‘And if there should be...consequences of the time we spent together?’

  ‘Let us speak plainly, Monsieur Doulevant. If my granddaughter should be carrying a child I shall deal with it. You need not fear that Cassandra will be cast penniless into the world, after all she is only recently widowed and might pass the child off as her late husband’s.’

  The idea filled Raoul with abhorrence and he said quickly, ‘I do not believe she would do that.’

  ‘Then she will be confined in the country until after the birth. There would be some talk, but it would pass.’ She added with a hint of bitterness, ‘The Arrandales are no strangers to scandal.’

  ‘And the child?’

  ‘Would be put with a good family.’ The dowager marchioness regarded him for a moment and said in a softer tone, ‘Do not worry, monsieur, whatever her decision I shall ensure that neither Cassandra nor her child shall want for anything. But all this is conjecture. There may be no baby—’

  The old lady broke off as the door opened and Cassandra came in, looking very demure in a gown of pale-blue muslin, her dusky curls confined by a matching ribbon. She was looking down, her thick dark lashes accentuating her pale cheeks, and Raoul’s heart contracted painfully. He wanted to take her in his arms, promise her that all would be well, but he could not. At this moment he could not promise her anything at all.

  Cassandra looked quickly from the marchioness to Raoul, trying to read their faces, but both were inscrutable. She longed to ask Grandmama if she had agreed to help Raoul, but Lady Hune was already saying something innocuous about the weather. Raoul responded politely and Cassie joined in the conversation. She knew her grandmother too well to press her. She must bide her time and hope that over the course of the evening Raoul would make a good impression with the marchioness.

  Miss Tatham’s arrival lightened the mood slightly. She announced cheerfully that she and Cassie were now good friends and she greeted Raoul with unfeigned friendliness. She even cajoled Lady Hune into a smile within minutes of entering the room. Nevertheless dinner was a strained affair. Conversation was stilted. Raoul no longer supported the French, but his dislike of the aristocracy had not waned and Cassandra was careful to avoid any topics that were likely to put him at odds with her grandmother. The effort was quite exhausting and frustrating, too, for at the end of dinner Lady Hune announced that after such a long day the ladies would go directly to bed.

  * * *

  The following morning Cassie rose early. Her hope was to find Lady Hune alone and ask her what she thought of Monsieur Doulevant, but when she glanced out of the window and sa
w Raoul walking alone in the gardens, she quickly grabbed her shawl and ran downstairs to join him.

  When he saw her on the path she stopped, suddenly feeling shy.

  ‘May I walk with you, Raoul?’

  He inclined his head and she fell into step beside him. He did not offer her his arm, and she kept both hands firmly holding her shawl about her shoulders.

  ‘The sun is very pleasant,’ she said, desperate for something to say, ‘but it is has grown much colder these last few days.’

  ‘Yes.’

  His brief response was daunting.

  ‘Would you rather be alone?’

  He shook his head. ‘I have been thinking that it would be best if I leave here.’

  ‘No!’ She stopped, turning to look up at him. ‘I would like you to become acquainted with my grandmother.’

  ‘To what end, milady, so that she might approve me as a husband for you?’

  Cassie flushed and looked away. He was right, although she had hardly admitted it to herself.

  ‘To stay would only bring us more pain, ma chère,’ he said, smiling in a way that pierced her heart. ‘You know there is no future for us. I cannot give you the things you deserve and I do not talk of just the things that money can buy,’ he added quickly. ‘You know my profession is my life.’ He took her hand and pulled it on to the crook of his arm before starting to walk again.

  ‘I have been thinking a great deal about this, Cassie, and I would not ask any woman to suffer as my mother did. To be sure my father was dazzled by the English lords and ladies in Brussels, but it was not for their titles and money that he attended them. He could not ignore those in need, any more than I could ignore those poor crushed men at Flagey.’

  ‘You know I would not ask you to do so, Raoul.’

  ‘I do know it, but I have told you, surgery is everything to me. I have dedicated my life to my profession and there is no room for a wife. I could not bear to think I would neglect you, as my father did Maman.’

  Cassie drew a breath. ‘I would take that chance, Raoul.’

  ‘But I will not. That is why I must leave.’

 

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