Page 4 of The Agent and the Outlaw
I saw little of him outside of his cloak, which was well-made but plain black wool, as if he had money but not the desire to spend it.How…odd.He was quite a bit taller than me—I faced his expansive chest directly—and broad-shouldered in a veryunaristocratic sort of way, which clashed with the idea of him having any sort of wealth.Curious!
I shivered. Studying his cloak made me realize I was bitterly cold in the late October evening—or is that early November morning?—and I was still in my silly costume. It was fine for disguising my sex, but not ideal for the onset of winter temperatures. My breath condensed in frosty puffs in front of my face.
More memories solidified. He had been handsome. Rather, hewashandsome. I remembered seeing him burst through the hedge maze back at Versailles and fall into the torchlight. A queue of chestnut hair, dark sweeps of lashes, vibrant green eyes, a once-broken nose that had been set well, and a thin, crescent moon scar that crossed from his brow to his cheek, and those lips…Mon dieu, such lips! A woman would sell all her jewels to hear sweet nothings drop from them.
Though sweet nothings hadn’t dropped from them. I recalled our altercation in the garden earlier in the evening. He’d been flippant, rude even, and had clearly misunderstood my intentions. However, I was fortunate he hadn’t seen through my disguise.
Despite his enigmatic appeal, my temper surged.
“Kidnapping is a hanging offense, you know,” I said archly. “I’d hate to see a neck as fine as yours stretched because of some silly mistake. Release me and I assure you that no harm will come to you from my quarter.”
The man said nothing.
“You don’t even need to return me to Versailles. I can make my own way. Simply untie me and let me go. You’ve done a great deal of damage, you see, and it needs to be put right. Perhaps if I can get back soon, I can figure out a way to spin your interference. A robbery? No, that would be absurd. A religious zealot, maybe. Sade’s sexual deviancy was well-known, and I doubt the church approved. That could work, you know. I’ve a friend in the church with a debt to repay…”
I trailed off, thinking. If I could get back to Versailles, I could fix it. I would simply present Daphne with an alternate course of action, and she would convince the Order that this could still work for us. Either way, Sade was dead, which was the one silver lining. He wouldn’t be able to abuse any more innocents, and the vampire peasants and bourgeoisie who clamored for his blood—literally and figuratively—would be temporarily assuaged.A peace offering of death.
My captor studied me silently, seemingly frozen to the ground. He obviously didn’t grasp the immediacy of my needs. When he had crashed through the hedge maze at the palace, he had stared at me incomprehensibly when I chastised him for his haste. Perhaps he wasn’t the intelligent sort—a shame, really, since he was so thoroughly enjoyable to look at.
I spoke with a slow, deliberate pace.
“Monsieur?Parlez-vous français?Can you understand me? First, I need to be untied. Second, I need to return to the palace. Well, no—second, I need some kind of cloak or coat. It’s bloody freezing out here.ThenI need to return to Versailles, which hopefully isn’t more than an hour or two’s ride from where we currently stand.”
He continued to regard me mutely, but his shoulders shifted slightly.Ah, so he does understand me.
“Where exactly are we?” I demanded. I had no idea how long I’d been unconscious. The navy sky was lightening to a lovely periwinkle, which meant the sun was soon to rise. Dread pooled when I realized Daphne and Étienne would not be able to find me now. They’d be beholden to their vampire schedules and would be below ground for the next day. My trail would probably be cold by the time they could reach me.I am on my own.
“Are you well enough to carry on?” His voice was like the dregs from a chocolate pot—deep, dark, and luscious. In another world, at another time, perhaps I would have tried to seduce him.
“I should think so,” I nodded. “You don’t need to worry, Monsieur. Untie me and I’ll be perfectly able to make my way back from here.”
He grunted and leaned forward to grab my wrists.
“Thank you, Monsieur. I appreciate your attempts to remove me from a dangerous situation at the masquerade, but I assure you, all will be well when I can get back and sort everything out. I say, that doesn’t feel like the knot is loosening there—”
He hoisted me up onto the horse and swung himself up behind me. It seemed to take very little effort for him to lift me, which was both disconcerting and tempting.Dieu, Charlotte. Stop thinking such things!
“Forgive me, Monsieur, but we seem to have an error in communication. You aren’t releasing me, which doesn’t make any sense. I’ve already told you that you won’t be in any danger from me for what happened at the palace, but you must let me go so that I can deal with things,d’accord?I mean, I don’t really know what else you could possibly want with me. I’ll only slow you down, and I’m sure you have lots of other lives to inconvenience.”
“Silence,” he hissed.
If there was one word I didnotappreciate—especially from a man—it was that one. I’d certainly heard it enough from my former husband whenever he felt I was being inappropriate, which was to say, quite often.
“I—WILL—NOT!” I shouted, punctuating my words with fierce jabs from my elbows into his sides. I whipped my head back as hard as I could and felt it connect with his nose. He grunted, but I yelled.
Charlotte, you idiot! That’s where the brute knocked you senseless.
I didn’t have time to regret my mistake and the sharp pain radiating through my head—I acted as fast as my reflexes would allow. With my captor temporarily distracted, I leapt from the horse and tucked myself into a ball to cushion my fall. Quick as a flash, I jumped up and took off through the forest, running in a zigzag pattern. I wasn’t sure if the bulge I’d felt at my back was his masculine endowments or a pistol, but I wasn’t going to take any more chances.
When I’d run far enough to reach the limit of my breathing capacity, I paused behind a large oak tree and listened. I heard the chorus of early morning birdsong and the distant burble of a stream. I smiled to myself. I didn’t hear a twig-breaking, leaf-crunching, crossbow-wielding madman giving chase. Perhaps he’d reasoned I was too much trouble—a fact I could heartily agree with—and rode on with his smelly, vomit-inducing horse.
When my breath returned to normal, I started moving again but stopped just as quickly. Some distance away, I heard a knot of low male voices creeping down the road. I strained to hear them. Had my captor persuaded a passerby to help seek me out? Crouching down beneath a thicket of greenery, I peered through the branches.
I could just make them out where they gathered along the road—there were five of them, all in identical burgundy coats. I squinted. They looked like soldiers, but I didn’t recognize their uniforms. Were they English? They wore that gaudy red, didn’t they? What would English soldiers be doing here?
Leaning forward, I tried to get a better look. If I could get a bit closer, I might be able to hear what they were saying. I prepared to make my move.
“Don’t.”
