Sarah Mallory - Regency Rogues - Rakes' Redemption - Return of the Runaway (The Infamous Arrandales) / The Outcast's Redemption (The Infamous Arrandales)

‘Your skin looks green!’

Raoul glanced at her.

‘And you look like a mermaid.’

‘Oh? You have seen one of those mythical creatures, I suppose.’

He grinned. ‘Hundreds.’

She was laughing up at him. Raoul was inordinately pleased that she shared his delight in this place and it was the most natural thing in the world to lean a little closer and kiss her. He felt a tremor run through her, felt her body yield a little before she regained control and backed away from him, eyes wide and dark. She released his hand, clearly preferring to run the risk of drowning rather than touch him.

‘We, we should go back now, monsieur .’

She would not meet his eyes and Raoul silently cursed himself. What was he about, consorting with this woman? He could not resist flirting with her, but she was not for him. Yet his body told him differently, it had known it from the first time he had pulled her into his arms and ridden away with her. Now it remembered every step he had taken with her in his arms, every moment of her warm flesh pressed against his, arousing him and sending the hot blood pounding through his veins and making him dizzy. Enough of such madness. He did not want her naked body in his arms again, she was too tempting. The instant and powerful arousal when she had flung her legs about him had almost toppled them both beneath the water. Yet she had felt as fragile as a bird when he held her close, her heart beating erratically against his chest, rousing in him a protectiveness that he really did not wish to feel for any Englishwoman. He must get them both back to the far bank without further embarrassing the lady. He set his jaw. That would not be easy when her naked form was so temptingly close. The apprehension in her face told him that she, too, was wondering how they would get back.

He turned away from her.

‘Put your hands on my shoulders and let your body float up behind you. If you relax you will find it easier.’

Obediently she placed her hands on his shoulders. Briefly he covered her fingers with his own.

‘Hold tight now.’

Cassie was gripping as tightly as she could, feeling the knotted muscle moving beneath her hands as he used his arms to help pull them through the water. Her body was still vibrating from his kiss, her blood felt hot and she wondered what would have happened if they had not been standing up to their shoulders in the cold water. She thought it might then have been much more difficult to pull away from him, to remember the dangers of her situation. Even now she was not safe; she could not make it back across the pool without his help. She knew she must keep her body away from that broad back and not pull herself close and allow her breasts to rest against him, which was what some wild and wanton part of her wanted to do. She kept her body straight, pushing her legs up towards the surface of the water and keeping her eyes fixed on the tendrils of dark hair curling at the nape of Raoul’s neck. At first it took all her energy to concentrate, but gradually she managed to relax a little and discovered it required less effort. She was floating out behind him and where her back broke the surface she could feel the heat of the sun on her skin. Her grip on Raoul’s strong shoulders eased, she tried a few tentative kicks with her legs and heard a chuckle.

‘A few more trips across the pool and I think you might be swimming, milady.’

Quite unaccountably, his words pleased her, but she managed not to give herself away when she responded. ‘No, I thank you.’ They had almost reached the bank and her feet sank to the pool’s floor. ‘I can manage from here. If you will leave me I will dress myself.’

‘Are you sure you would not like me to help you with your corset?’

She gritted her teeth. Really, he was quite infuriating.

‘I will manage,’ she told him. ‘Pray, go and dress yourself, monsieur . Over there, out of my sight.’

Grinning, Raoul swam away. Milady was back, as haughty and commanding as ever, but when he had climbed out of the water and was pulling on his shirt he heard a faint but unmistakable sound coming from the other side of those concealing bushes. Lady Cassandra was singing.

When at last she emerged from the bushes she was fully dressed and she had removed the pins from her hair, letting the thick, dark tresses spread around her shoulders while they dried. She looked better, he thought. Less tired and her eyes were brighter. She looked beautiful. A sudden, exultant trill of birdsong filled the air, like a fanfare for the lady.

Scowling, Raoul turned away and busied himself checking the girth on the saddle. This was no time for such fanciful ideas. Resolutely he kept his eyes from her until he was mounted on the horse.

‘Well, madame , shall we continue?’

He put out his hand. She sprang nimbly up, but from the way she held herself, tense and stiff before him, he knew that she, too, was trying to avoid touching him more than necessary.

Raoul pushed the bay to a canter and they covered the rest of the journey to Reims in good time. The sun was low in the sky when they reached the main highway and dismounted for a final time to rest the horse before they rode into the city. They had hardly spoken since leaving the pool, both caught up in their own thoughts, but as he waited for her to pin up her hair again he noted the frown creasing her brow.

‘What is in your mind, madame ?’

‘How far is it from Reims to Le Havre?’

He shrugged. ‘Three days, perhaps, to Rouen, then another two to Le Havre. Or you may be in luck and find a ship in Rouen that will take you to the coast. You might even find one to take you all the way to England.’

‘But France is at war with England, will that not make it more difficult?’

Raoul shrugged. ‘Difficult, but not impossible, if you have money.’

Le Havre could be bustling with troops. Dangerous enough for him, but a pretty young woman, travelling alone, would have to be very careful. He glanced at her. She had finished pinning up her hair, but even so she looked remarkably youthful. An unscrupulous man might take advantage of her. He might steal her money, thought Raoul. Or worse. He remembered when he had first seen her, about to be attacked by the courier and his accomplice. She had been prepared to fight, but without his help she might not escape so lightly next time.

‘If you will help me to reach the coast and find a ship to take me home, I will pay you.’

The words came out in a rush and she fell silent after, keeping her eyes fixed on the distant horizon as if afraid to look at him.

Why not? Raoul asked himself. Because she is English and an aristocrat. Everything you despise. Everything you have cause to hate.

He glanced at the lady, noticed how tightly her hands were clasped together as she waited for his answer. She was also a woman and for all her bravado she was vulnerable and alone and it was not in his nature to turn his back on a defenceless creature.

He would prefer to travel to Brussels, but he had to admit that without money to pay his way any journey would be difficult. And once they reached a port he might well be able to find a ship to take him north along the coast.

‘How much?’

She shook her head.

‘I cannot say. I will pay for a carriage from Reims and our lodgings on the way and after that I need to find a ship to carry me home. I do not know how much all that will cost. However, if you will trust me, I will give you whatever I can spare, once I have booked my passage to England.’

Well, whichever way he went there was danger, but Raoul could not deny that the going would be easier if he had money.