Read the book: «Regency High Society Vol 3: Beloved Virago / Lord Trenchard's Choice / The Unruly Chaperon / Colonel Ancroft's Love», page 5

Katherine was forced to acknowledge the truth of this. ‘I did inform Sir Giles that my grasp of the Gallic tongue could best be described as adequate, but he insisted that that was of little importance, and that the person he had in mind to escort me back to England would have no difficulty in convincing anyone that he was French.’

The older woman’s eyes narrowed speculatively. ‘I wonder …?’ she murmured.

‘Wonder what?’ Katherine prompted.

‘I wonder if it is the same man who helped me rescue my late mistress’s sister four years ago?’

Katherine was not at a complete loss to understand to what Marie was alluding. Before embarking on this exciting escapade, she had learned a little about the woman who had for two years passed on secret information supplied by the British traitor whom Sir Giles was determined to bring to book. More recently she had learned something of Justine Baron’s early life from Marie who, Katherine had discovered, had been employed many years before as a maid in the Baron family’s home on the outskirts of Paris.

Although not of the aristocracy himself, Justine’s father had been a wealthy man who had made the mistake of speaking out against the injustices of the new regime, and in consequence had had his house and lands seized by those in power before he and his wife had been executed. Justine and her younger sister Louise had only just managed to escape with their lives. Spirited away in the dead of night by their devoted servant Marie Dubois, they had been taken to an isolated farm, owned by Marie’s brother, deep in the French countryside, where they had remained safely hidden from the French authorities for several years. Unfortunately, by the time she had attained the age of eighteen, Justine had become utterly bored with the bucolic existence and, accompanied by the devoted Marie, had decided to find some means of supporting herself in the capital.

Having been the daughter of wealthy parents, Justine had received a good education, and had had little difficulty in acquiring a position in the establishment of a famous modiste. With her striking looks and superb figure, she had been perfect for modelling her employer’s latest creations, and it had not been too long before Justine had fallen under the eye of a high-ranking government official. She had willingly become his pampered mistress, and for several years had lived in comparative luxury in a house overlooking the Seine.

During this period in her life, she had continued to visit her young sister regularly. Unlike Justine, Louise had been content to live a quiet life on the farm. Consequently Justine had been happy to leave her there, and had provided for her sister by sending sums of money to Marie’s relations at regular intervals.

This act of generosity on Justine’s part was to prove her downfall. When the time had come for her to find a new protector, she had chosen unwisely by agreeing to become the mistress of a sinister, shadowy figure who had close links with the man who four years previously had declared himself Emperor.

Her new lover had not been slow to make use of all Justine Baron’s talents. By removing Louise from the farm and placing her in a secluded house, where she had become a virtual prisoner, he had attained the means by which he could force Justine to do precisely as he had wished.

Within weeks she had been despatched across the Channel, where she had swiftly found employment in the establishment of a famous Bond Street modiste. If the modiste had been faintly uneasy about her new employee’s ability to obtain silks and laces at a much reduced rate, she had kept her suspicions to herself, and had not asked too many questions concerning Justine’s frequent trips to the south coast. Which, of course, had allowed Justine to pass on the secret information obtained from the British traitor.

‘I seem to remember you mentioned that you accompanied your mistress to England, Marie,’ Katherine remarked as a thought suddenly occurred to her.

‘Yes, mademoiselle. That was when I learnt to speak your language. We were there for a little over two years.’

‘And in all that time you never once saw the man who sold my country’s secrets?’

Marie shook her head. ‘My mistress did not want me involved. I cooked and cleaned in the little house we rented, and never went to the shop in Bond Street. It was at the shop, I think, that that devil passed on the information to my mistress, for no one ever came to the house, except Sir Giles on that one occasion.’

Katherine frowned. ‘I suppose Sir Giles at some point must have become suspicious of your mistress’s activities, Marie, and had her watched. But what I do not understand is why Justine remained in England when she might have given Sir Giles the information he required in return for her safe passage back to France.’

Marie betrayed surprise. ‘Why, because of her sister, of course! She had had no contact with Louise in over two years. She was not even permitted to write to her, but she managed after several months to discover where her sister was being held, and wrote to my brother. He was permitted to see Louise on one occasion. He wrote and told us the poor child was treated badly, worked from dawn till dusk, and never allowed out of the house. My mistress was determined to get her little sister away from that dreadful residence, which was no better than a prison, and place her with people whom she trusted to love and care for her.’

‘And Sir Giles was willing to offer his aid, providing she told him everything he wished to know,’ Katherine remarked, when her companion fell silent. ‘How, I wonder, did he manage to effect Louise’s escape?’

Marie’s harsh features were once again softened by a surprisingly tender smile. ‘He did it, mademoiselle, by enlisting the aid of a very brave Englishman. I accompanied this man, who was a soldier, I think, over to France. Once he had achieved his objective, I returned with him, eager to impart the good news to my mistress, only to discover …’

‘I know, Marie,’ Katherine said gently. ‘I’m truly sorry that the traitor managed to locate Justine’s whereabouts.’

Marie must have believed the sympathy genuine, for she smiled wanly across the table. ‘I know my mistress would have kept to her part of the bargain. She would have told him all he needed to know, and that is why, before I returned to France, I promised Sir Giles that if in the future he should ever need my help to catch the devil who murdered my poor mistress, he need only contact me.’ She sighed as she gazed down at her work-roughened hands resting in her lap. ‘I am a good Frenchwoman, mademoiselle. I love my country. But I would do anything to avenge my poor mistress’s death. I had great hopes too, for although I never knew the real name of that brave man who rescued little Louise, when I heard the name you were to use, I thought perhaps—’

Marie checked at the knock on the door and rose instantly from the chair to answer it. Supposing it to be the inn servant bringing their food, Katherine did not pay much attention, until she clearly heard Marie exclaim, ‘Ah, monsieur! So it is you! Now we shall do very well!’ Then she raised her head and for a moment was unable to believe the evidence of her own eyes as they focused on the tall figure, swathed in a voluminous grey cloak, peering over Marie’s head from the open doorway.

Quite forgetting her role, she was on her feet in an instant. ‘What in the name of heaven are you doing here?’

Chapter Five

Marie, looking from one to the other, would have been hard put to it to say which of them appeared more stunned by the other’s unexpected presence. Or more angry too, come to that! Blue-green eyes, brightened by a dagger-look, were openly hostile, and there was a definite hint of menace in dark brown orbs too, before the gentleman whom she had been so pleased to see took a step into the room and quietly closed the door.

‘It is good to see you again, Marie, after all these years,’ he remarked in French, and Katherine, even in her intensely perturbed state, was forced grudgingly to own that anyone might have been forgiven for taking him for a native of France. ‘I can only apologise for my late arrival, and trust that you have not found these past days being forced to endure my—er—oh, so charming wife’s company, too much of a trial.’

Marie clearly detected the half-smothered squeal as the young woman whose companionship she had found increasingly agreeable swung away to turn her back on the new arrival. ‘On the contrary, monsieur,’ she didn’t hesitate to assure him, before she recalled the young lady’s one grave failing. ‘But I think I ought to warn you she does have a tendency to forget that she is supposed to be a Frenchwoman.’

‘That,’ he responded, removing his hat and gloves and placing them on top of a convenient piece of furniture nearby, ‘isn’t all she has a tendency to forget. She is wont to forget her manners too on occasions.’

Out of the corner of her eye Marie noticed two slender white hands curl themselves into tight, angry little fists. She had found her young friend courteous and charming. None the less, she didn’t suppose for a moment that she had been blessed with that colouring for no reason, and decided it might be wise to intervene before ‘Madame Durand’ was tempted to deal her ‘husband’ a sound box round the ears, something which, Marie did not doubt, her young companion was more than capable of administering if sufficiently roused to anger.

‘Have you eaten, monsieur? I have ordered dinner, but it would be no trouble to delay it a little to enable you to join us.’

‘I have already dined,’ he answered, his expression softening noticeably as he removed his gaze from the silent, slender figure whose taut features were clearly mirrored in the window and looked down at the older woman. ‘There is no necessity to delay your meal on my account. I shall perhaps sample a glass or two of mine host’s fine wine before I retire. But first I think it might be beneficial to have a little private conversation with my wife.’

Marie was inclined to agree. That the two had met before and were not upon the best of terms was abundantly clear. Therefore, it could certainly do no harm for them to attempt to settle their differences before they embarked on their homeward journey, she decided. ‘In that case, sir, I shall return downstairs and attempt to hurry along our dinner.’

The instant Marie had departed, very tactfully closing the door behind her to enable them to clear the air without being overheard by any inn servants about their work, Daniel addressed himself to the woman who for the next few days would play the part of his wife, loving or otherwise. ‘Well, this is a surprising turn up, is it not, Miss O’Malley?’

He noted the faint stiffening in the perfectly proportioned, slender frame. All the same, he had no intention of attempting to conceal the fact that he was not best pleased to discover that the female he had endured several days’ hardship in order to rescue was none other than the infuriating little madam who, like some pestilential insect, had all too frequently returned to plague him, mentally if not physically, since their last encounter. ‘I had been wondering who our mutual friend had managed to persuade to embark on such a ludicrous venture. It goes without saying that I was convinced it had to be someone with more hair than wit!’

‘Oh, you were, were you?’ Katherine managed to respond in a surprisingly mild tone. Only the glint in her eyes, when at last she turned to face him again, betrayed the fact that she was not as composed as she might wish to appear. ‘Well, let me assure you, Major Ross, that, had I known that you were to figure as a key player in Sir Giles’s plot, nothing in this world would ever have induced me to take part.’

Daniel studied her in silence as he removed his cloak and tossed it casually upon the bed. ‘Ah, yes! I was forgetting your totally unfounded and quite infantile dislike of me. Tell me, Miss O’Malley, is it in an attempt to satisfy some puerile whim that induces you to display antagonism towards virtual strangers?’ He could almost hear those small, perfect teeth grinding together, but steadfastly refused to spare her. ‘I discovered on the evening of your cousin’s engagement party that you were Colonel Fairchild’s granddaughter, and that you resided with him for a short time. Would I be correct in thinking that your resentment stems from nothing more significant than my inability to recall that we had perhaps met in the distant past?’

Daniel noticed the strikingly coloured eyes momentarily stray in the direction of the porcelain vessel on top of the washstand. He didn’t doubt for a moment that that small hand was just itching to reach out for the handle on the pitcher and then hurl the delicately painted piece of porcelain in his direction. Yet her voice when she spoke remained surprisingly calm and controlled.

‘When I resided with my grandfather, we were never formally introduced, Major Ross. I did witness your arrival at the house on several occasions from an upper-floor window, however, and I believe we did once exchange a few words when I happened to be outside and you rode into the stable-yard one day.’

He frowned, endeavouring to remember, but swiftly abandoned the attempt. ‘You must forgive me, ma’am, but I fail to recall the incident.’

‘It is of no consequence, I assure you. I was little more than a child at the time, and quite naturally evinced no interest in you at all.’ The faint twitch at the corner of her mouth was evidence enough that she had enjoyed delivering this mild insult. ‘What I find hard to forgive,’ she continued, when he refused to comment, ‘or forget, for that matter, is that your callous behaviour was in part responsible for the death of my friend.’

For several moments it was as much as he could do to stop himself from gaping across the room at her in astonishment. He would have been the first to admit that he had killed many during his years in the army, but as far as he was aware he had never been responsible for anyone’s death off the field of battle. ‘What the devil are you talking about, young woman?’ he demanded, not attempting to moderate his language.

‘I am referring to Helen Rushton, Major Ross,’ she responded, not noticeably cowed by the barking tone. ‘She and her widowed mother were close neighbours of yours, were they not? Helen and I became friends when I went to live in Dorsetshire towards the end of ‘08.’

This time he was more successful in his efforts to remember. ‘Ah, yes! I recall her now. She was the daughter of Captain Rushton who died at Trafalgar.’ He regarded her in frowning silence for a moment. ‘But she was a mere child. She used to go about all the time carrying a rag doll, of all things! And if my memory serves me correctly, she and her mother unfortunately both lost their lives in a minor smallpox outbreak which occurred shortly after I had sailed for Portugal.’

Katherine’s chin lifted. ‘Helen was seventeen. Unlike her mother, she was young and strong and might well have survived had she not lost her foolish heart to a worthless profligate who gave her every reason to suppose his interests were engaged, only to cast her aside without so much as a second thought.’ She paused to raise an accusing finger. ‘After your treatment of her, she lost the will to live.’

Once again Daniel regarded her in silence, his expression totally unreadable, then he bridged the distance between them in three giant strides, and before she could do anything to avoid it, had imprisoned her chin in one long-fingered hand.

‘And it is this upon which your dislike of me is based—my thoughtful attentions to the daughter of a man I admired, which were obviously totally misconstrued?’

Although Katherine remained stubbornly silent, she found herself unable to hold his openly contemptuous gaze, and lowered her eyes, but not before Daniel had glimpsed the look of mingled doubt and self-reproach she failed to conceal.

He tightened his grasp on the pointed little chin, forcing her head up and giving her no choice but to raise those delicate lids. ‘Retain your infantile dislike of me if you will, Miss O’Malley, but if you possess any degree of sense at all you will refrain from permitting your misguided judgement to induce you to behave foolishly during the time we will be forced to endure each other’s company.’

The warning was clear, and all the more menacing because it had been delivered in a surprisingly soft voice. ‘If we stand the remotest chance of successfully returning to England unscathed, we must work together. Therefore I shall brook no childish acts of defiance on your part.’

Smiling grimly, Daniel watched the play of different emotions flitting over the delicate features before finally releasing his hold on her chin. He wasn’t fooled by the seemingly silent acceptance of his dictum. Unless he was gravely mistaken, nothing would have given her greater pleasure than to place a well-aimed kick on his shin, before telling him to go to hell.

He cast a brief glance over the neat arrangement of fiery curls. No, he mused, he would be foolish to suppose that she would always be so quietly submissive. Beneath the quite lovely surface trappings was a determined and spirited young woman who was not lacking intelligence. Unless he much mistook the matter, she had already been forced to accept the fact that she needed his protection in order to return to England.

‘I do believe that we are beginning to understand each other at last,’ he could not resist adding. ‘If you should continue to exert such admirable self-control, I believe we shall deal tolerably well. And now, Miss O’Malley, I shall leave you alone to ponder over the wisdom of what I have said, whilst I repair downstairs for an hour or so.’

With which he swung round on the heels of his decidedly dusty boots and, head held high, strutted from the room, like a combatant leaving the field of battle in the certain knowledge that he was the clear victor.

The instant the door had closed behind him, Katherine closed her eyes, and somehow managed to quell the temptation to reach out for that pitcher whose handle was invitingly close, and hurl it at the exact spot where the Major’s arrogant head had been only moments before. How glad she was now that her grandfather had insisted that she spend a year at that superior Bath seminary! One schoolmistress of whom she had been particularly fond had endeavoured to teach her to control her temper, and to consider any forceful display of emotion faintly vulgar. She had certainly needed to heed those excellent teachings during the past few minutes, and attempt to behave in a dignified manner. Whether she would be able to continue to do so during the days ahead was a different matter entirely!

Suddenly feeling incredibly weary, Katherine slumped down on the bed, and began to consider her present predicament. Unpalatable though it was, she had to face the fact that she would, perforce, need to spend a considerable amount of time in the Major’s company. Like it or not, she did require his escort to return to England. He had not said as much, but she was acutely aware that she desperately needed him, whereas he did not really need her. It certainly put her at a distinct disadvantage, and she was honest enough to admit that she very much resented the fact.

She very much resented, too, having to acknowledge that he had been right to stigmatise her dislike of him as childish. If the truth were known, her own conscience had begun to prick her over the attitude she had adopted towards him on the night of the engagement party. Yes, he had been right, curse him! Dear Helen had been rather immature in her ways, and, although Katherine had completely forgotten the fact until he had remarked upon it, Helen had frequently been seen in possession of the rag-doll her mother had given to her.

One of Helen’s favourite pastimes had been sewing. She would spend hours creating fashionable outfits for that wretched doll which she herself longed to wear. It had created a very odd impression, all the same, to see the toy so often in her hands.

Yes, it was little wonder that Major Ross had looked upon Helen as a mere child, Katherine reflected, experiencing once again a pang of regret for the way she had behaved towards him. She had been grossly at fault to condemn him as heartless. That did not mean, of course, that she could ever bring herself to like him. Arrogant and overbearing, he epitomised everything she most disliked in his sex. Yet somehow she was going to have to learn to tolerate him until her feet were firmly planted once more on British soil.

A light scratch on the door forced her to abandon her unsettling reflections, and Katherine raised her head to see Marie enter. She thought she detected a glimmer of sympathy in the older woman’s eyes before Marie turned to the two serving-maids, bearing trays, and instructed them to enter.

Whilst the servants busied themselves placing the various dishes on the small table tucked in one corner of the bedchamber, Marie maintained a flow of inconsequential chatter, remarking that the evening had turned chilly, but that the landlord had predicted a fine day for tomorrow. She had never once forgotten the role she had been instructed to play—that of a devoted and conscientious lady’s maid. She was always alert and remarkably astute, which made her obvious regard for Major Daniel Ross all the more puzzling.

Even in her own highly disturbed state, Katherine had realised by Marie’s reaction to his unexpected appearance that Major Ross was none other than the man whom Sir Giles had engaged a few years before to effect Louise Baron’s escape. What she quite failed to understand, however, was why Marie held the odious creature in such high esteem. It was perhaps understandable why she should retain feelings of gratitude. But she had greeted him like some long-lost friend, for heaven’s sake!

Determined to have her curiosity satisfied, Katherine didn’t hesitate to broach the subject the instant the servants had completed their tasks and had left them to enjoy their dinner in private.

‘Major Daniel Ross.’ Marie repeated the name Katherine had just divulged as though it were a benediction. ‘Yes, mademoiselle. It was indeed he who succeeded in helping little Louise Baron,’ she added after a moment’s thoughtful silence.

‘You evidently hold him in high regard,’ Katherine prompted when Marie turned her attention once again to the food on her plate.

‘Indeed, I do, mademoiselle.’ Marie raised her eyes to gaze at some spot behind her dinner-companion’s head. ‘His orders were to secure Louise’s release. But he put his life at further risk by aiding me to escort her to a place of safety.’

Marie was silent whilst she subjected Katherine to a prolonged, searching stare. Then, seemingly satisfied with what she detected in the delicately featured face, she said, ‘I believe I told you that the Baron family was once very wealthy. Monsieur Baron employed a steward, a man who had worked diligently for the family. Some years after her parents were killed, whilst she was residing in Paris, Justine discovered where her late father’s steward and his family had fled, and it was in their care Justine wished her sister to be placed. Major Ross, as I have mentioned, ensured that we arrived at our destination safely. We should never have succeeded without him, that I know.’

‘And does Louise still reside with the family?’ Katherine enquired gently.

Marie nodded. ‘With one of them.’

‘And is she happy?’

‘Oh, yes, mademoiselle. Within a short time she married the eldest son, Pierre, and they have now two lovely children. With the money Justine left her sister, Louise and Pierre bought a vineyard, and have prospered. I too live with them,’ she added, before her gaunt features were softened by a gentle smile. ‘Until you revealed it a short while ago, I never knew the real name of the man to whom we owe so much. I only ever knew him as Antoine Durand.’

Her expression suddenly turning grave, she reached across the table to clasp Katherine’s left hand. ‘Set aside your differences, petite,’ she urged gently. ‘Believe me when I tell you that you could do no better than to put yourself in that man’s hands. He will guard you well.’

Later, after she had changed into her night-wear, Katherine sat on the edge of the bed, and began absently to pull a brush through her long auburn tresses as she turned over in her mind what Marie had disclosed during dinner.

Yes, she could well appreciate now why the Frenchwoman thought so well of Major Ross. Yet when it had been suggested that she could do no better than to place herself in his care, she could not bring herself to agree. But why?

A bitter smile tugged at one corner of her mouth. Oh, yes, she knew well enough why she had been so willing to blame him for poor Helen’s death; why she had been so contented to allow Major Daniel Ross to figure as the villain of the piece all these years. But that, she silently reminded herself, did not explain why now—now, when she had acknowledged how incredibly unjust and foolish she had been—she was still so determined to dislike him, to keep him at a distance.

It could not be denied that he possessed many of those traits she abhorred in his sex. None the less, she had been acquainted with several arrogant and dictatorial gentlemen during her lifetime, her grandfather to name but one, and she had experienced no difficulty whatsoever in tolerating their peccadilloes. So why was she so set against a more companionable relationship developing between her and the Major? After all, there was absolutely no danger at all in just liking someone. It was only when—

‘Ahh, what a delightful sight! The dutiful wife remaining awake in order to welcome her lord and master to bed.’

Katherine started so violently that the hairbrush shot out of her hand to land on the wooden floor with a clatter. It was as much as she could do to stare in horrified silence as the smugly smiling Major Ross entered the room and calmly closed the door. Just how long he had been standing there in the doorway, watching her, she had no way of knowing, for she certainly hadn’t detected the click of the latch, but she could not fail to hear the grating of the key now as it was turned in the lock.

‘What on earth do you imagine you are doing, sir?’ she demanded in a voice which had suddenly risen by an octave, making her sound more like a frightened child than the self-possessed young woman she had wished to appear.

‘What the devil do you imagine I’m doing, madam wife?’ he responded, sounding distinctly bored, as he proceeded to slip the key into the pocket of his tight-fitting breeches. ‘I am about to retire.’

For a moment Katherine was too stunned by this almost blase pronouncement to notice that he was calmly appraising her modest night-attire, from the ties at the base of her throat to where her unshod feet protruded from beneath the hem. Then she detected that unmistakable predatory gleam which she had glimpsed all too often in recent years in many pairs of masculine eyes.

She was on her feet in an instant, almost tripping over the edge of the rug in her haste to scramble into the robe which she had left hanging in the wardrobe. If the sudden smile which pulled at the corners of an attractive mouth was any indication, her actions appeared to have afforded him no little amusement, a circumstance which served to strengthen her resolve to be rid of his unwanted presence without delay.

‘I too wish to retire, sir, so I would be obliged if you remove yourself forthwith. Anything you have to say to me can quite easily wait until morning.’

‘For once we are in complete agreement, m’dear,’ he announced, surprising her somewhat, but the hope that she might be rid of him so easily was swiftly dashed when he plumped himself down on the bed, and began to remove his jacket.

Katherine could only gape in astonished disbelief as cravat and waistcoat were added to the coat which he had flung over the back of the chair, and it was only when he tossed one boot into the corner of the room that the full import of his actions hit her with frightening clarity. ‘You do not imagine surely that you are going to sleep in here?’

After removing his other boot and sending it the way of the first, he bent a look of mild surprise in her direction. ‘Where the deuce do you suppose I’m going to sleep?’

‘Anywhere but in here,’ she returned, silently cursing herself for foolishly forgetting to lock the door after Marie had returned to her own room. ‘I recall the landlord mentioning only yesterday that the inn is half empty now.’

‘Yes, I dare say it is. Most British visitors to this city have made a bolt for the Channel ports. Why do you suppose it took me so long to get here?’

Momentarily diverted by this snippet, she asked, ‘Was the journey here so very arduous? I wondered why you were delayed.’

There was more than just a hint of reproach in the glance he cast up at her this time, as though he considered her in some way to blame for the delay. ‘I was left kicking my heels in Dover for twenty-four hours because of rough conditions in the Channel.’

He sounded genuinely peeved which, perversely, amused her, though she managed to suppress the wicked smile of satisfaction threatening to curl her lips.

‘When I eventually arrived in Calais the diligence to Paris was full,’ he continued in the same highly disgruntled tone, ‘and I had perforce to wait two days before I could manage to acquire a seat in one of those pestilential vehicles, which I might add lost one of its wheels when we had travelled no more than twenty miles from the port. I was then compelled to put up at one of the most uncomfortable hostelries it has ever been my misfortune to enter, was refused a seat on the next coach to Paris on account of its being full, and tooled by the only driver I have ever come across who flatly refused to accept a bribe. Consequently I was obliged in the end to leave most of my belongings at the inn, purchase the landlord’s misbegotten gelding, owing to the fact that he wouldn’t entertain the notion of hiring it out, and then complete the journey on a horse that could not be induced to go above a sedate trot. So as you can appreciate, my dear, I am somewhat fatigued.’