Authors: Sherry Gloag
Vidal's Honor (18 page)
* * * *
“Look.”
Honor's grin stole Vidal's breath and for a moment all he wanted to do was look at her.
“Concentrate, Vidal.” Impatience flicked through her eyes and disappeared.
“What? What am I supposed to be looking at?”
“Do pay attention to the people in the inn.”
“What about them? They have no interest in us. Pray, tell me what am I looking at?”
“There, I knew you would see what I mean.”
Becoming more confused by Honor's unexplained excitement, Vidal studied the occupants of the bar while they waited for the landlord to escort them to the private parlour set aside for them, before enlightenment hit him. “They are not noticing us. We are just another set of travellers.”
“It seems monsieur Dumas was correct.”
“So it does, and I wonder,” he added as they stepped into the private parlour to see Dumas talking to a stranger, “what else he is arranging on our behalf.”
Offering a nod upon their arrival, the Frenchman resumed his conversation with his companion.
“Do you know the man with Dumas?” asked Vidal.
“I am sure I have seen him recently, but do not know who he is.” Honor studied the stranger through narrowed eyes, and the way she tilted her head on one side reminded Vidal of his hounds waiting for the command to "run" before the hunt. “I have it.” With a sharp glance at the newcomer Honor moved to the window furthest away from the others. “I do believe he was in the square this afternoon.”
“I don't remember seeing him.”
“You would not, for it was while you were in the museum. Monsieur Dumas wished to talk with me, andâ“ She huffed when he grabbed her arm. “Do not let your wits go a-begging, Vidal, he particularly asked me to talk with you when we had a moment. And if you remember I did try this afternoon, until we were disturbed.”
When he looked across the room it was to see both men watching them intently. “Has Lady Beaumont had a chance to call upon your advice yet Vidal?” Dumas crossed the room to join them.
“She has not.”
“Then, it befalls me to expand on the little I told you earlier.” Dumas guided Honor to a chair near the fire. “I do hope your room is to your satisfaction, my lady.”
She offered the Frenchman a smile of approval. “Thank you, you are most kind and we have received every attention.”
“Good, good. Now my lord⦔
Le duc
reached for a straight-backed chair and pulled it up beside Honor's, his attention still on Vidal. “I will be brief for I prefer to keep this between these four walls before we are interrupted again. The late and unlamented Lord Beaumont â I refer to Lady Beaumont's brother-in-law, you understand?”
With a nod, Vidal waited for Dumas to resume.
“As I told my lady this afternoon, he betrayed me too, which means my plans to escort you to the Channel coast must be forfeited if I wish to remain alive. Therefore, I have commended Jacques here to take my place as your escort. And I can assure you, you can trust him, for his life too is on the line if you do not reach your destination safely.”
As Honor stepped closer to
le duc
,
Vidal wasn't the only one to register the resentment in the newcomer's eyes, he noted. “Then I must thank you for seeing to our safety and introducing us to your replacement. Does this mean you go no farther with us?”
“Sadly, I'm afraid it does, for I find myself faced with a quandary. You must understand I cannot go south. It is impossible for me to go west. And I will end up at Tyburn if I go north. Therefore I must go east.
“Forgive Jacques his nervousness. He is concerned I insist on staying long enough to join in a last meal with you. He wants me to leave immediately.”
“I share your concern.” Vidal bowed to the newcomer with a polite smile. “I have known monsieur many years, and while circumstances divide our loyalties, I can respect your employer's aspirations.”
Vidal identified every emotion that flitted across Jacques' face and waited for him to come to a conclusion.
Brief as Jacque's comment was, when it came, all three men understood the implications behind it and the tension in the room decreased. “I will do as you say.”
“Some wine, my lady?” Dumas crossed to the side board, poured some golden liquid into a glass, and brought it to her.
“Thank you.”
A shout beyond the window and a clatter of horses' hooves brought Dumas to his feet, his startled glance honing in on Jacques.
“It seems I am to be denied my wish to stay and dine with you. Come Jacques, you cannot be seen with my friends.”
He bowed over Honor's hand and was gone, and his satellite with him.
“Well that was a short term of office, to be sure.” Honor set her glass on the table in the middle of the room. “And I take it, this means our journey to the coast has come to an end. I hope Juan and Consuela do not come downstairs.”
The colour had drained from Honor's face and he heard the fear in her voice.
“Do you trust me, Honor?”
It seemed an age before she nodded, her gaze fixed on his all the while. “Yes, I trust you.”
“Good.” He reached for her and pulled her up against his chest and brought his lips down hard on hers. When she stiffened in his arms, he lifted his head. “You must trust me if we are to come about,” he whispered. “Relax.”
The feel of her arms linking behind his neck, and her lips opening beneath his, almost distracted him from their purpose. He failed to prevent the moan from escaping when she pressed the softness of her breasts against his chest. Only the door bursting open prevented him from revealing his unrequited love for the woman in his arms.
Â
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Still held in his tight embrace, Honor listened in astonishment as Vidal castigated the intruders in fluent French for their untimely interruption.
“We beg a thousand pardons,” the leader offered, “but we are searching for a traitor and were told he was here.”
“Well unless he is hidden in a cupboardâ“ Vidal let his glance roam round the intricately carved wooden panelled walls of the room â he is not here.”
“When did you arrive?”
Honor hid a smile in Vidal's chest as doubt riddled the interrogator's voice.
“My bride and I arrived â.” He made a display of digging out his watch, “â about two hours ago.”
One of the men standing behind the speaker and just beyond the door leaned forward and whispered in his leader's ear.
The speaker's eyes sharpened and he stepped forward. “What if I told you, you were seen in Bordeaux this afternoon?”
“I suppose it's possible.” Vidal put his arm round Honor's shoulder and pulled her even closer to him. Her insides trembled, and she knew the heat spiralling within her had reached her face. Embarrassment added fuel to her sudden longing, and guilt added to her discomfort. How could Vidal's kisses create such a storm of need? And at a critical moment when they were in danger of being exposed as English travelling through an enemy country?
“My dear.” Vidal's finger beneath her chin brought her head up until her eyes met his. A look, strong, demanding and yet full of an understanding that added to her confusion unsettled her further. “The chief of gendarme is asking you if you have seen the man they are looking for?”
“Man?” She dimpled at the official, who she suspected was more likely a soldier than a gendarme. “I have eyes only for my husband.”
“Perhaps I can jog your memory?” Their interrogator prompted with a predatory smile.
Her fear set her heart thumping against her chest. What had she missed while daydreaming about her reaction to Vidal's kisses?
“I think he means the man who stopped us in Bordeaux and asked for directions.”
“Oh, I see.” She let herself give in to her longing to touch Vidal's face, and trailed her finger down his cheek, hiding a smile when his eyes darkened with desire. “He was not as tall as my husband, more slender I think, and his hair was darker.
“Was it darker?” she asked Vidal. Then before he had time to answer Honor addressed the man now standing directly in front of her. “I cannot say for sure, for he was just someone asking the way.” Beneath her lashes she watched the gendarme weigh up their responses.
Frustration lit a fuse under the Frenchman's anger which threatened to break free. “And what did you tell him?”
“What could I tell him?” She waited for his challenge and when it didn't come looked up at Vidal. “You gave him directions, did you not?” She let the memory of his kiss heat up her face again. “I'm afraid I only had eyes for my husband.” She reached up and kissed him on the lips.
“You wanton baggage, have you no shame? We are in company.”
Behind the amusement in his eyes lurked another, darker emotion, Honor didn't care to name. She stepped back and hung her head.
“You are right. I am sorry.”
He pulled her up against him again. “Do not be sorry, for I am as eager as you⦔
A loud cough at her shoulder broke into the fantasy.
With a stiff bow the official backed towards the door. “I am sorry to have troubled you.”
One glance in his direction convinced Honor the man's words did not match his emotions. Chagrin and fury warred for supremacy and she wondered whether their blatant display had worked or not.
“Come, we cannot drop our act yet,” Vidal added when she hesitated. “They may come back.”
She allowed him to lead her to the chair by the fire, and when he encouraged her to sit on his knee, gave in to temptation.
* * * *
“That was a most convincing display you put on there.”
Honor leapt to her feet at the sound of Juan's amused tone.
“Then if you want it to remain so, I suggest you keep your voice down,” Vidal snapped. “We have to come up with an alternative plan. I imagine you realise they are searching for someone. Someone who just managed to depart in the nick of time, along with his âassistant'.”
“Assistant?”
“Our friend received word he would have to leave us almost immediately and had just introduced us toâ“ Vidal hesitated. “Let us remain with the title âassistant' for now. And where is Consuela?”
“She came down to join you and almost ran into the men standing at the door. She heard one of them questioning you and came back to warn me.”
Juan crossed to the side board and poured himself a glass of burgundy and, lifting the bottle, offered Vidal a refill.
“Have you left her in our room?” Honor waited for Juan to sit down.
He shook his head. “Indeed not. She managed to hear enough of what you were implying to warn me, so I suggested she move in with me. We moved her things into my room so if anyone came in they would assume we were sharing the room. We also moved your brushes and put them on the table beside my lady's things.”
“A good precaution,” Vidal agreed, with a grin. It slid off his face almost immediately. “In fact, I wouldn't put it past those fellows to try and snoop on us later tonight. I think I should share with Honor and Consuela should remain with you. That way we guard both women from any possibility of molestation, and maintain the image we have been at pains to create.”
Juan turned serious. “And if we are discovered?”
“Who is to find out?”
“Don't be absurd, my lord. You, as well as I, know what would happen if word of such a scandal reached London ahead of us. Lady Beaumont would be doubly ruined, and any chance of your peers believing in her integrity would disappear completely.” Rising from his chair, Juan strode to the window, peeked round the edge of the drawn curtain, and stepped back. “There are at least twenty men out there. I better make haste and rejoin Consuela.”
Once at the door he paused. “If you persist in this subterfuge and you are discovered, only marriage will save you. You are aware of that aren't you? Think well before you condemn each other to a loveless union.”
“It would not be loveless on my part,” Vidal admitted, the words hanging in the sudden stillness that filled the room.
Honor stared at Vidal. He loved her? How long?
“Since the moment I saw you,” he said, and she realised she'd spoken aloud.
She clutched the front of her gown in a futile attempt to still her pounding heart.
Juan forgotten, Vidal faced her now. “I appreciate you only had eyes for Devlin, but that didn't stop me loving you. I cannot think of a single thing that would kill my feelings.”
Her heart skipped with joy, then stilled. Once, many years ago she would have believed him. And she wanted to now, but the memory of his coldness towards her after their shared evening beside the camp fire troubled her.
If only he'd take her in his arms and convince her. How could he be speaking the truth when he'd already implied he thought her responsible, whether directly or not, for Devlin's death? The fact he had doubted her then, would he doubt her in the future?
Her heart wanted to fly free and urged her to go to him and admit her feelings for him. But how could she when he wasn't sure he could trust her, and she found it hard to understand how her own feelings for Vidal were still so strong when she'd loved the man she'd married three years ago? Her own sense of betrayal weighed heavily on her heart.
“I love you,” he said again. “Have you nothing to say?”
“I didn't know.” Guilt, like a shroud, clung to her. She'd loved both men and chosen Devlin simply because when Vidal had walked away she'd assumed he hadn't shared the same feelings.
“Of course you did not. And now you do. You must not let it influence you. Our task is to get you back to England before you are discovered.”
Confused by Vidal's sudden abruptness, Honor nodded and crossed the room to the fire. Tears clogged her throat. Was it wrong to wish for Vidal to take her in his arms? She stiffened her spine pushed her shoulders back and instructed herself to concentrate on the business of escaping from France without detection.
“Juan, you are still here. Good⦠but do not tarry. If I can, I will join you in a few hours to discuss what to do and how we can contrive to reach the coast without a guide.”
Honor crossed the room before Juan opened the door. “What about you and Consuela? How will the two of you go on after this night?”
Genuine anxiety propelled her to ask, and the gleam in his eye reassured her. The two of them would make a good marriage and hopefully, one day return to their beloved Spain.