Page 19 of The Duke's Price
“Ladies, lock your door once the bath arrives, and don’t let anyone in until morning. I don’t want the footmen coming to empty the bath unless one of us,” he indicated himself and Walter, “is here to protect you.”
He must have caught the spark of rebellion in Bella’s eyes, or perhaps in Ruth’s. “Yes, I know you are both Amazons, but the footmen don’t know that. If they try something, Walter and I will have to stay up late to bury the bodies, which would be inconvenient, since I plan an early start.”
Bella burst out laughing at the insouciant remark.
“De-Ath, we shall lock the door,” said Ruth, who had not thought about the risk from lusty footmen. Since Anne married Rede, she had never had to seriously consider such things. Until Sombras. She had been locking her door in the castle ever since he came back from the wars.
Obviously, De-Ath was sincere in his concern, since he appointed Walter to watch the footmen deliver the bathwater. “I have a few questions to ask in the bar room. Don’t leave until the ladies have locked themselves inside, Walter. Then come and join me.”
What on earth was the man up to? Ruth knew him well enough by now to know that he wouldn’t answer questions until he was ready. Bella, bolder and perhaps less perceptive, said, “Where are you going, De-Ath, and why?”
“I had an idea,” De-Ath told her. “I’ll tell you more if it works out.” And with that typically obscure remark, he was gone.
Walter, when Bella turned her attention to him, put up both of his hands in a “stop” gesture. “He hasn’t told me a thing, Miss,” he said.
As they took turns in the bath, and prepared for bed, Bella kept wondering what it might be. Ruth noticed that the girl didn’t doubt De-Ath was working on a plan to escape Garcia. Neither did Ruth. For all his reputation, the Duke of Depravity was an honourable man, and he had promised to help them.
Ruth fell asleep considering the price she had yet to pay for that promise.
When she woke again, it was dark in the room. For a moment, she wondered where she was and what had woken her. Then she heard the tapping on the door, which answered the second question, and by the time she reached the door, she had remembered going to sleep in Carcassonne.
“Who is it,” she said, pitching her voice to reach through the door.
“De-Ath,” said the now familiar voice. “Get dressed, my dear. We must be on the road in fifteen minutes.”
Ruth found her way to the fireplace, fumbled for a poker, and stirred the ashes enough to find a couple of glowing embers, to which she put a spill so she could light a candle.
That gave light enough to see Bella sitting up in the bed. “Is it time to get up?” the girl asked.
“Yes, and we must hurry. Get dressed, dearest, and pack anything that you have unpacked.”
Walter was waiting outside of their door ten minutes later to take the small bags that were all they’d brought into the inn, and to escort them down to the carriage.
De-Ath was up in the driver’s seat, but he gave up his place to Walter and climbed into the carriage behind Ruth and Bella.
Ruth’s curiosity would wait no longer. “Did your errand last night prosper?”
“It did,” De-Ath answered. “Thank you for asking.”
When he said nothing more, Ruth found herself wishing for a fan to hit him with. Or an umbrella. Much more satisfying.
The incorrigible man burst out laughing. “Your face, Ruth! Very well, Bella. I will tell you all before you decide to carve important pieces off me with the knife I am certain you still carry,”—one of Bella’s stories had involved the use of the knife she said she, “always strapped to my thigh under my skirts”.
“Ruth, I was struck by your story of Alex Redepenning and the canal boat. Walter and I went to the inn just out of town where the canal boat folk gather. I’ve found a family—father, mother, and three daughters—who are willing to take Bella and Walter as far as the coast while you and I amble our way along leaving a trail for Garcia. And Carlos, for if he has figured out we are in France, he is certainly searching, too.”
Ruth wasn’t at all keen on being separated from her charge. “Could we not all go? Surely, he won’t think of looking on a canal boat?”
De-Ath shook his head. “We need to give them something to chase, Ruth. Keep their attention away from the canals altogether. A canal man, his brother, his wife and his fourdaughters are a crowd on a canal boat, but not unlikely. Add another man and another woman, and it will draw attention.”
“It would be better if I am Walter’s daughter,” Bella said. “People who know your canal family will question an extra daughter.”
De-Ath gave her a nod of approval. Ruth had further objections to make, but De-Ath had answers for them all, and so did Bella. The family were, De-Ath said, kind people and a happy family. He had told them the story of the pursuing suitor, which was true enough, as far as it went.
When Walter brought the carriage to a halt by a boat moored on a quiet stretch of canal, Ruth had to agree with De-Ath’s assessment of the family. The father and mother clearly loved one another and their daughters were both respectful and lively—and very curious about the young heiress who was running away from a powerful suitor.
Ruth helped Bella hunted through her luggage for items suitable for a canal girl—not much, but she could at least wear her own undergarments—and the daughters of the family assured Bella that they could loan her whatever outer garments she needed.
Soon, they had said their goodbyes and the canal boat was pulling away from the bank. “She will be as safe as Walter can make her, Ruth,” De-Ath reassured her, “and we shall do our part by laying a trail for our enemies to follow. For the first part, we’ll head back to Carcassonne, where I shall make a great show of my rank while hiring a driver to take us to the next town, since my own faithless driver has abandoned us. After all, a duke cannot be expected to drive his own carriage, even for a princess!”
