where
he put her on a sofa and sat down beside her.
She became
suddenly aware of the pickle she was in. Alone in a bedroom with a man! If she
had been in trouble before, it was nothing to the disgrace she would be in if
this got out; the gossips would have even more to keep their tongues wagging.
It would condemn her to social purgatory forever.
Before she
could do anything to remedy the situation, there was a knock at the door and
Mark went to open it to a servant who held a bottle of brandy and a glass. Adam
took them from him and returned to Maryanne. He poured a generous measure of
the spirit into the glass. ‘Here, drink this.’
She sipped it
and pulled a wry face.
‘All of it. It
is good French cognac.’ He smiled; did she know what the sight of her like that
did to his insides? She looked like one of the hundreds of little urchins who
ran about the streets of Paris, barefoot and in rags, scurrying about that
beautiful city made ugly by the atrocities committed there, and making a living
in any way they could. They had been alone in the world, except for the
companionship of each other and that had ceased when richer pickings were
offered. They had no scruples; it was everyone for himself. It was where he had
learned to keep his wits about him, where he had discovered you could trust no
one, where he had been turned from a well brought-up twelve year-old to a
cynical, unloved and unloving adult, and all in the space of four years. By the
time he was sixteen he was a full-grown man.
Not that
Maryanne was cynical and unloving - he did not believe that - but she was
alone. And she needed her wits about her to survive, because none of the
Danbury family cared a jot for her. Could he, in all conscience, leave her to
their tender mercies? But he had to, not only now when he should be out with
the crowd, doing his duty, but later when he had to keep his promise to the
Count. If only he could be in two places at once!
‘That’s
better,’ he said, as she drained the glass. ‘Would you like something to eat?’
‘No, thank
you.’ She paused to look up at him. ‘I am sorry to be so much trouble to you.’
‘It is my
pleasure and privilege to serve you.’ Better speak formally because he wanted
to kiss her again and that ought to be resisted. ‘I have to leave you, but I
want you to stay here until I come back.’
‘But I can’t! I
must find Mark; he will be out of his mind with worry.’
He gave a wry
smile. ‘It will do him no harm, might even teach him to take more care of you
in future.’
‘You are being
unfair! I said it was not his fault, it was mine. He would never knowingly lead
me into danger; he loves me.’
‘Does he, now?’
The sardonic smile lifted the scar on his eye. ‘And what about you? Do you love
him?’
‘I... I don’t
know.’
He chuckled.
‘Then you do not, for if you did you would surely know it.’
‘You think so?’
She sounded eager and wistful at the same time and he longed to throw caution
to the winds and take her in his arms, to tell her that he would teach her
about love. But he couldn’t; he had no time and no right to; and what did he
know about the subject anyway? He was saved from making a fool of himself by a
light tap at the door, and a girl, slightly older than Maryanne, bustled in
carrying a bowl of warm water and towels.
‘We shall soon
have the young lady looking herself again, Captain.’
‘Good.’ He
turned to Maryanne. ‘ Madame Clavier will look after you.’ He smiled and
stood up to leave. ‘I know how anxious you are to rejoin your escort, but I
must counsel patience until I return. Now I have to deal with more pressing
matters.’
Anxious to
leave him and return to Mark? If he only knew the truth! ‘How long will you
be?’ she asked.
‘Rest assured,
no longer than I can help. Stay here until I come back, then I will make
arrangements to have you taken home.’ He went to the door, but turned back as
he reached it, opened his mouth
he put her on a sofa and sat down beside her.
She became
suddenly aware of the pickle she was in. Alone in a bedroom with a man! If she
had been in trouble before, it was nothing to the disgrace she would be in if
this got out; the gossips would have even more to keep their tongues wagging.
It would condemn her to social purgatory forever.
Before she
could do anything to remedy the situation, there was a knock at the door and
Mark went to open it to a servant who held a bottle of brandy and a glass. Adam
took them from him and returned to Maryanne. He poured a generous measure of
the spirit into the glass. ‘Here, drink this.’
She sipped it
and pulled a wry face.
‘All of it. It
is good French cognac.’ He smiled; did she know what the sight of her like that
did to his insides? She looked like one of the hundreds of little urchins who
ran about the streets of Paris, barefoot and in rags, scurrying about that
beautiful city made ugly by the atrocities committed there, and making a living
in any way they could. They had been alone in the world, except for the
companionship of each other and that had ceased when richer pickings were
offered. They had no scruples; it was everyone for himself. It was where he had
learned to keep his wits about him, where he had discovered you could trust no
one, where he had been turned from a well brought-up twelve year-old to a
cynical, unloved and unloving adult, and all in the space of four years. By the
time he was sixteen he was a full-grown man.
Not that
Maryanne was cynical and unloving - he did not believe that - but she was
alone. And she needed her wits about her to survive, because none of the
Danbury family cared a jot for her. Could he, in all conscience, leave her to
their tender mercies? But he had to, not only now when he should be out with
the crowd, doing his duty, but later when he had to keep his promise to the
Count. If only he could be in two places at once!
‘That’s
better,’ he said, as she drained the glass. ‘Would you like something to eat?’
‘No, thank
you.’ She paused to look up at him. ‘I am sorry to be so much trouble to you.’
‘It is my
pleasure and privilege to serve you.’ Better speak formally because he wanted
to kiss her again and that ought to be resisted. ‘I have to leave you, but I
want you to stay here until I come back.’
‘But I can’t! I
must find Mark; he will be out of his mind with worry.’
He gave a wry
smile. ‘It will do him no harm, might even teach him to take more care of you
in future.’
‘You are being
unfair! I said it was not his fault, it was mine. He would never knowingly lead
me into danger; he loves me.’
‘Does he, now?’
The sardonic smile lifted the scar on his eye. ‘And what about you? Do you love
him?’
‘I... I don’t
know.’
He chuckled.
‘Then you do not, for if you did you would surely know it.’
‘You think so?’
She sounded eager and wistful at the same time and he longed to throw caution
to the winds and take her in his arms, to tell her that he would teach her
about love. But he couldn’t; he had no time and no right to; and what did he
know about the subject anyway? He was saved from making a fool of himself by a
light tap at the door, and a girl, slightly older than Maryanne, bustled in
carrying a bowl of warm water and towels.
‘We shall soon
have the young lady looking herself again, Captain.’
‘Good.’ He
turned to Maryanne. ‘ Madame Clavier will look after you.’ He smiled and
stood up to leave. ‘I know how anxious you are to rejoin your escort, but I
must counsel patience until I return. Now I have to deal with more pressing
matters.’
Anxious to
leave him and return to Mark? If he only knew the truth! ‘How long will you
be?’ she asked.
‘Rest assured,
no longer than I can help. Stay here until I come back, then I will make
arrangements to have you taken home.’ He went to the door, but turned back as
he reached it, opened his mouth
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