Regency Rogues: Rakes' Redemption. Sarah Mallory

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      Raoul spent an hour in the house that had become a makeshift hospital and when he returned to the auberge Cassandra was waiting for him at the door. His mood brightened when he saw her, pretty as a picture in her yellow gown, her dark curls brushed and pinned in a shining disorder about her head.

      ‘Madame Deschamps insisted on cooking for us,’ she greeted him. ‘I have packed everything, and the carriage and your horse are ready to depart as soon we have broken our fast.’

      At that moment the landlady herself came bustling out, insisting that they must not leave Flagey until they had eaten a good meal.

      ‘I have bread and eggs and ham waiting for you, monsieur, and you will have the room to yourselves, you will not be disturbed.’

      There was no point in arguing, so Raoul followed Cassie and their landlady into the little dining room.

      ‘How did you find your patients?’ asked Cassie as they settled down to their meal.

      ‘The two men we operated on are awake and recovering. It will be slow, but I have hopes that with a little ingenuity they will be able to get around again. Most do and consider themselves fortunate they have only lost a leg and not their life. Bonnaire is happy to look after them now. And I called in on the fellow with the broken arm. His head has cleared, I think he will make a full recovery.’

      ‘They must all be thankful you were here to help them.’

      ‘They were. That is why it has taken me so long to get back. Everyone in Flagey wanted to speak to me.’ He grinned. ‘I cannot tell you the number of gifts I have had to decline, but I did not think you would wish to have a basket of eggs or a plucked chicken in the chaise with you, although I was tempted by the flitch of bacon.’

      Cassie laughed.

      ‘These poor people have little enough of their own. It is very generous of them to offer to share it with you. They are clearly very grateful for what you have done.’

      ‘This is not just for me, milady, your efforts too were much appreciated.’

      Cassie blushed. ‘Truly?’

      ‘Yes, truly.’

      Raoul had received nothing but praise this morning for his ‘good lady’. They had told him how she had supported everyone, organising them, comforting those in grief and cajoling the mothers into looking after their little ones. A saint, one man had called her. Raoul looked at her now, remembering how she had helped him during the operations, quietly and calmly doing as she was bid without question. He had expected that she would crumble at the sight of the crushed limbs, that she might cry, or swoon and need to be escorted away, but she had faced everything with a calm determination that surprised him.

      And yet had he not seen signs of her resourcefulness even before they reached Flagey? There had been no tears, no tantrums during their time together. She had matched him step for step without complaint. His respect for her was growing.

      Cassie was clearly pleased at his praise and he had to fight the urge to smile back at her. He dragged his eyes back to his plate. Heaven defend him from actually liking this woman! He scraped together the last of the ham and eggs.

       But she would make a good wife.

      Some demon on Raoul’s shoulder whispered the words into his ear, but he closed his mind to them. He was not the marrying sort. He lived for his work. Surgery was his first love and a man could not have two mistresses.

      ‘Our lack of a servant has not gone unnoticed, however.’ He told her, sitting back in his chair. ‘I have already set it about that you are so demanding no maid will stay with us.’

      As he expected, she bristled at that. Her smile disappeared.

      ‘Me, demanding?’

      ‘Why, yes. They have experienced your managing ways for themselves. To their benefit in this instance, of course, and once I had explained that you were English they were not at all surprised when I told them you were extremely domineering.’

       ‘Domineering?’

      ‘I also said you were a scold.’

      ‘You did not!’

      ‘I did. A positive virago.’

      She sat up very straight.

      ‘You are insulting sir.’

      ‘But truthful, milady. You have all the arrogance of your race. And your class.’

      ‘Oh, you—you—’ Her knife clattered on to her empty plate. She pushed back her chair and jumped up. ‘I shall wait for you in the chaise!’

      Raoul laughed as she stalked out. Best to keep her outraged. That way she was much less likely to end up in his arms.