Regency Rogues: Rakes' Redemption. Sarah Mallory

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      Raoul watched Cassandra’s countenance, saw the changing emotions writ clear upon her face. He had intended to make her angry, but his taunts had wounded her, she had not shrugged them off as he had expected. The hurt in her eyes tugged at his conscience, but it also affected him inside, like a giant hand squeezing his heart.

      Bah. He was growing soft. The woman was an English aristo. She would take what she needed from him and then cast him aside without a second thought. She did not need his sympathy. He pushed back his chair and rose.

      ‘It is late and we should sleep,’ he said. ‘As soon as it is light I will go to the docks and see if there is any ship there to take us to Le Havre. Who knows, I might even find a captain who is willing to take you all the way to England.’

      ‘Yes, that would be the ideal solution and would suit us both,’ she agreed.

      Her tone was subdued and Raoul guessed she would be pleased to see the back of him.

       Well, milady, the feeling is mutual!

      ‘At least we have the benefit of two rooms here,’ he remarked. ‘If you will allow me to remove a pillow and blanket from the bed I will not bother you again tonight.’

      She nodded her assent and he picked up one of the branched candles and went into the bedchamber. The large canopied bed looked very comfortable. Raoul found himself imagining Cassandra lying there between the sheets, her glossy hair spread over the pillows and those dark-violet eyes fixed upon him, inviting him to join her. It was a tempting picture and the devil on his shoulder whispered that a few soft words would bring the lady into his arms. There was no denying the attraction, he had seen it in her eyes, felt it in her response when he had kissed her. There was passion in her, he would swear to it, just waiting to be awoken.

       Why not? In a few more days she will be safely back in England and you will be free of her. What have you got to lose?

      ‘My honour,’ muttered Raoul savagely. ‘I will not demean myself to lie with my sworn enemy.’

      Enemy? The word sounded false even as he uttered it. She might be a lady, and an Englishwoman at that, but over the past few days he had come to know her, to see the strength and resourcefulness in her character. The uncomfortable truth was that he was afraid. He could not give himself totally to any one woman and Lady Cassandra Witney was not the sort to settle for anything less. Brave and resourceful she might be, but she was born to command. To take, not give.

       And what have you to give her, save perhaps a few nights’ pleasure and that would demean you both.

      Quickly he pulled the coverlet from the bed, grabbed a couple of pillows and returned to the sitting room.

      ‘I have left the candles burning in there for you, milady,’ he said, dropping the bedding on the floor. ‘I will bid you goodnight.’

      ‘Yes, thank you.’

      When she did not move he turned. She was holding out her purse to him.

      ‘You will need money tomorrow, if you find a suitable ship for us. For me. I do not know how much it will be, so it is best that you take this. I have kept back a few livres in case I need it, but you are attending to all the travel arrangements.’ She looked up fleetingly. ‘I am not so arrogant that I do not trust you, Monsieur Doulevant.’

      Raoul took the purse, feeling its weight in his hand. She was giving him all her money? When he did not speak she gave a tiny curtsy and hurried away.

      ‘Cassandra, wait—’

      But it was too late; the door was already firmly closed between them.

      Cassie undressed quickly and slipped into bed. She had done it. She had handed over her purse to Raoul, put herself wholly in his power. Perhaps that would show him she was not the proud, disdainful woman he thought her. It should not matter, but it did. She was a little frightened at how important it was that he did not think badly of her. She turned over, nestling her cheek against one hand. She had known Raoul Doulevant for little more than a week and yet she... Cassie shied away from admitting even to herself what she thought of the man. It had taken her months to fall in love with Gerald Witney and look how quickly she had recovered from that grand passion. Clearly her feelings were not to be trusted.

      In the morning Cassandra’s sunny spirits were restored. They had reached the Seine. From her window she could look over the roofs and see the masts of the ships on the quayside. With luck they would find a vessel to carry them to the coast. The inn was very quiet, so she guessed it was still early, but she scrambled out of bed and into her riding habit ready for the day ahead. She emerged from her bedroom to find Raoul already dressed. She responded to his cheerful greeting with a smile.

      ‘Are you going out immediately, sir?’

      ‘I have not yet broken my fast, so we may do so together, if you wish.’ He picked up the bedding piled neatly on a chair. ‘We had best put this out of sight before I ask the maid to bring up the tray.’

      It was only a matter of minutes before they were sitting at the table with a plate of ham and fresh bread rolls before them. Cassie poured coffee and they fell into conversation like old friends. On this sunny morning it was easy to forget the harsh words of yesterday. And the fact that they were both fugitives, fleeing the country.

      ‘How СКАЧАТЬ