Page 68 of A Proposition for the Comte
He shook the words away. ‘I would put the blame firmly on the greed of your husband.’
He sounded stern and he could not change that. They were miles from home, it was dark and he knew that whoever it was who had paid to kidnap Violet was coming north.
She nodded and swallowed away saying more, but he could tell she was not only frightened but disappointed. In him. In the killing. In the blood, violence and fury.
He hurried her away, his hand falling from her arm as soon as she was in the conveyance waiting on a side road within ten minutes walking distance from the tavern.
He turned to Tucker who was standing beside him.
‘I need you to stay here and watch to see who it is who will arrive. If there is no one here still by the morning then take a carriage back to London and I will send instructions as to what I want you to do next.’
‘Very well, my lord.’
‘Don’t let anyone see you. It will be a strong lead if we can identify the one who comes here.’
Violet frowned. How many times could Aurelian de la Tomber save her from death? When did he become tired of killing men to see her safe? The hours when they had lain together breathing each other in seemed distant for the spaces between them now lay in lives and lies and danger.
She began to shake unexpectedly, small shivers at first and then large tremors that overtook everything. Her very existence had become one of enormous highs and dreadful lows, a mix of fear and hope and desperate need.
She saw Aurelian watching her from across the carriage. He had not sought the place next to her but sat instead opposite her.
‘I will not let them hurt you.’ Formal words with little emotion or connection. She screwed her hands into the fabric of her skirt and held her fingers tight.
His whole demeanour was stiff, the pistol held across his lap as he scanned the road outside. He was expecting the others, she supposed, the ones the man had spoken of, though inside the inn he had implied they would not be coming.
Scaremongering, she imagined, and intimidation. When nothing seemed quite as it ought there was a far greater propensity for chaos. Constant shivering made her feel sick to the stomach, a lack of any food and water overlaying that. But this was not the time to admit weakness and so she sat up straighter and willed her fears back into the box that they had escaped from. A sudden tiredness came over her, the lack of sleep catching her unawares and she closed her eyes for a moment to rest them.
She awoke as the carriage stopped at a small tavern screened by a row of trees.
‘Where are we?’
Aurelian was sitting close beside her now, his shoulder had been her pillow, the linen in his shirt creased from her sleep.
‘We have made a slight detour and the driver is enquiring about horses for us to use before he goes on with the carriage to London. We will head out on a different road after I find you clothes that are more comfortable and less...feminine.’
‘A disguise?’
‘It would be best.’
‘It is dangerous?’
‘No. It’s more that I do not want others to remember us and talk. Addington Manor is a day and a half’s ride away from here and we will camp in the woods on the way.’
Within an hour they were ready, her new clothes unfamiliar but comfortable. She was no longer a lady but a youth, a groom who rode beside his master, a man of business on their journey to Essex.
She was amazed at how easily Aurelian had procured all the items needed. With very little fuss he had found sleeping mats and blankets, a pot, two knives and pewter cups to tie on the saddle of the horses he had bought, the coinage he had handed across to the tavern master substantial.
He was wearing the clothes of a trader or a traveller and she smiled at the comparison. Whatever he wore suited him, the rougher spun fabrics and oldness of his garments lending him another charm.
She imagined what it might be like without the pressures of society upon them, simple travellers wending their way through the countryside on a humble quest. The thought was beguiling, to disappear from all that she was and to have Aurelian beside her.
How much her life had changed in the last few weeks and if the danger of it still tracked them at least this side journey to Addington Manor offered a small respite.
Aurelian looked over at Violet as they made their way east. He was glad for the promise of a quiet and uninterrupted time. The danger of everything was lessened in this change of direction for no one would be looking for them here.
Violet was a proficient rider, her legs guiding the roan mare easily, and the morning sky was clear of rain. He could barely remember a time when he had felt so free of worry, the fear of losing her melting into the joy of reunion.
‘When did you learn to ride?’
