Regency: Innocents & Intrigues. Helen Dickson

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СКАЧАТЬ her French was a joy to hear. Everything about her fascinated him, drew him to her, and he felt a stirring of interest as he looked into the glowing green eyes, the passionate face of the young woman before him.

      Maria found herself gazing into the eyes of the man she had seen in the village the day before. Her lips tightened ominously. ‘You! So you are the man Colonel Winston has sent to take me to England?’

      ‘He did not send me, Miss Monkton. He approached me and asked me if I would escort you when he heard I was coming to France.’

      The light blue eyes rested on her tight face and she thought irately that he was aware of her dislike and amused by it. ‘I see. I do not know what you meant when you said to my aunt that when I reach England I will discover the impossibility of marrying Colonel Winston and nor do I care to—and he will not force me into marriage. No one could do that, sir.’

      ‘He—is much changed since you last saw him. You must be prepared for that.’

      She smiled. ‘As I am changed. That is only to be expected after six years. It is quite normal.’

      ‘I do not speak lightly, Miss Monkton.’

      Maria heard him with growing annoyance. There was much she wanted to say to him, but not with her aunt’s eyes watching her every move and her ears missing nothing of what was said. She disliked his easy manner and the steady gaze of his light blue eyes, but his last words awoke an echo in her mind, of her own doubts about marrying Henry. When his letter had arrived informing them to expect Sir Charles Osbourne who was to escort her back to England, she had experienced a joy like she had never known—joy because she was going home to Gravely, a joy that had little to do with her becoming reunited with Henry.

      Of late there was a doubt inside her mind concerning her betrothed, like a small persistent maggot nibbling away. Perhaps it was that she had got older, had read more into his letters, which had become shorter as time went on. The writing was scrawled as if hurriedly written—as if he found writing to her more of a duty than a pleasure. Whatever it was, the spell had begun to lose some of the lustre of its first potent charm.

      But she would not expose her doubts to this arrogant Englishman and she thrust them into the background of her mind.

      ‘You do not like Colonel Winston, do you, sir?’

      ‘No,’ he replied truthfully. ‘I don’t.’

      ‘These are troubled times. I am sure you have more important things to do than assist a complete stranger across France.’

      ‘I do have important matters that occupy me.’

      ‘Then if you dislike him, why did you agree?’

      ‘One of the reasons is because my father and your own were friends. They were in India together.’

      ‘Oh—I see!’ she faltered. ‘I didn’t know.’

      ‘How could you?’

      ‘And the other reasons?’

      He smiled. ‘There were several—which I shall tell you about on the journey. When I became aware that you were to return to England and the difficulties you may encounter, I was happy to offer my services. My father would have expected nothing less of me than to help the daughter of an old and dear friend.’

      ‘Then I am grateful to you, sir. I will be pleased to avail myself of your protection and assistance on the journey. How are we to travel?’

      ‘By coach.’

      ‘Which Chateau Feroc will provide,’ the Countess offered.

      ‘Thank you, but I must decline your offer. It must be an ordinary equipage, nothing too grand, you understand. I will acquire the coach and two post horses. There must be nothing in your baggage to give you away,’ he told Maria with a note of authority. ‘All your fine clothes and any jewels you might have must be left behind.’

      ‘I have no jewels, sir. Everything I have of value—jewels my mother left me—is in England in the strong room at Gravely.’

      ‘Good. We shall travel as husband and wife—Citizen Charles Duval and his wife Maria, visiting relatives in a village near Calais. We shall speak French at all times. Consequences could be dire if we are heard speaking English. We are both fluent in French, so if we are stopped no one will suspect we are anything other than what we seem. Memorise your assumed surname if you will. You will dress in plain clothes as befits the wife of a cloth merchant of modest means. Good clothes are enough to brand a person, as the mob attribute fine dress to nobles and rich bourgeois.’

      ‘And my maid?’

      ‘Will remain behind.’

      Her delicate brows rose. ‘This is all very unconventional.’

      His eyes sliced to hers. ‘These are not ordinary circumstances.’

      ‘Nevertheless Maria cannot travel alone with you without a maid. Why—it’s quite unthinkable,’ the Countess remarked, her expression one of shock.

      ‘That is how it will be. I am not planning a tea party, Countess. I am trying to execute a plan to get your niece to England with her life intact. On this occasion etiquette and protocol don’t count.’

      ‘When must we leave?’ Maria asked.

      ‘In the morning. We must prepare for the journey at once. It is essential that we have food and warm clothes.’ He turned to the Countess. ‘I must go. Have Miss Monkton brought to the inn at first light. I consider it safer that the servants should know nothing of her departure. For our own safety the driver will know us under our assumed names.’

      After politely taking his leave, he went out, striding along the corridor to the stairs. On hearing the soft patter of running feet and the soft swish of skirts he turned, pausing when he saw Miss Monkton hurrying towards him.

      Chapter Two

      ‘There is something you wish to ask about the journey?’ Charles asked.

      ‘No, not that. It is about Colonel Winston. Why do you dislike him so much?’

      Charles’s face hardened and the perfectly amicable expression in his eyes disappeared. ‘My dislike is neither here nor there. I am not concerned about Colonel Winston. Can you not at least show some gratitude towards the people who are trying to help you?’

      Maria raised her head. ‘Yes, of course I am grateful, and it was ill mannered of me not to show it. I apologise, but please do not abuse Colonel Winston to me.’

      ‘I will not abuse him to you and nor will I offend your ears with matters that are beyond your comprehension, but I strongly urge you not to marry him.’

      Maria’s eyes were suddenly bright with anger. ‘You say this to me. You, a perfect stranger.’ She saw the sudden anger flare in his eyes. Her chin lifted haughtily and she favoured him with a glance of biting contempt. ‘My father was a good judge of character and thought well of him. He would never have agreed to the betrothal if he was not of good character.’

      ‘And you, Miss Monkton? How well do you know СКАЧАТЬ