Naomi Rawlings - Falling for the Enemy

’Twas probably the reason no decent man wished to wed her. Who wanted to be bound for life to a woman who always created trouble?

Like tonight, she should have agreed to guide Halston and his friends. Why had she not thought it through first? She could have guided them straight to a gendarmerie post and no one would have been the wiser until it was too late. Instead, she’d proudly defied them.

Why, oh, why hadn’t she just pretended to be a simple girl from the provinces, eager to do anything for a bit of coin?

Maybe because she was neither simple nor willing to do anything for coin. Her parents had instilled principles into her far too well. Plus, she was a terrible liar and likely would have given herself away.

Even so, no one had ever warned her having principles and staying fixed on doing what was right could lead her here. To being tied up while a bunch of Englishmen milled around. To being forced into acting as a guide when she should be running through the woods toward a gendarmerie post.

“Don’t cry, Dani.” Serge plopped down beside her, chewing yet another piece of salt pork as he faced her on the blankets. “Everything will be all right.”

“Easy for you to say...” She pressed her eyes shut. How could she even look at her brother while she lay trussed up like some animal? “You’re not the one being made into a spectacle.”

He sighed, long and heavy. “Dani, if you don’t want to be a spectacle, then don’t act like one.”

“I wasn’t trying...oh, forget it.” She moistened her parched lips and glanced at Kessler and Halston sitting beside the sickbed arguing over something or other. “At least they didn’t tie you, too. That should make our escape easy enough.”

Serge cast a quick glance toward the darkened woods. “Figured we’d wait until everyone was asleep, and then I’d untie you.”

Untie her. Like she was some captive animal rather than a person. A fresh wave of humiliation welled inside her chest. “Lie down here and get some sleep. The sooner we go to bed, the sooner everyone else will.”

Serge scrambled down onto the blankets beside her. “Are you going to pretend sleep? If we both truly sleep, we might miss our chance.”

She winced as rope bit into her wrists. Of course, if she stopped trying to loosen her bindings, they probably wouldn’t bite so much. Serge would be freeing her in a few hours, so she could stop struggling and simply wait. But truly, how was she to sit docilely and not attempt to loosen the ropes even a little?

“Danielle?” Serge blinked up at her. “Are you going to stay awake, then?”

“Don’t worry, even if I doze off, I won’t be able to sleep long with these ropes cutting into my skin.”

His eyes turned soft as he watched her. “I’m sorry, Dani. Really, I am. The Englishmen seemed nice enough, and they’ve got that sick man on the other side of the fire. I didn’t think they’d hurt us.”

“Of course they’ll hurt us. Have you forgotten we’re at war with them?”

“But they’re people just the same. And if one of us was sick and needed help, I’d like to think...” His words trailed off as another grotesque cough filled the air.

“That doesn’t mean we need to be nice to them,” she snapped. “Or that they need to be nice to us. Now lie down and sleep. You’ll need all your strength if you’re going to keep up with me tonight.”

“All right.” He rolled over, presenting his back to her as he snuggled in for slumber.

On the other side of the fire, Halston pushed his tall form up from where he sat and approached. In his hands he held a blanket torn into strips and then knotted together formed a makeshift rope. Were they planning to gag her as well?

“Non.” Danielle scooted herself back on the pallet as best she could with both her hands and feet tied.

“It’s not for you but your brother.”

“For me?” Serge pushed himself up to a sitting position.

“You can’t tie him. He hasn’t—” She clamped her mouth shut. She was going to give their escape plan away if she panicked again.

Halston quirked an arrogant, dark eyebrow at her. “You were saying?”

“Nothing.”

“Put your hands behind your back, Serge,” he commanded.

Her brother’s gaze shot fiery little arrows toward the Englishman. “I didn’t do anything.”

“It’s whether you plan to do anything once the rest of us are asleep that I question.”

“So you’re going to tie me with a blanket?” he scoffed.

“We’re out of rope. It will have to do.”

And with those words, the man knelt down to tie her brother, cutting off their best chance at escape.

Chapter Four

“Serge, you have to be quieter,” Danielle hissed into the darkness.

The admonishment did little good. Her brother still clomped behind her, his boots rustling old leaves and snapping twigs.

’Twas hardly astonishing the boy had trouble killing a squirrel. The entire forest would hear him coming a full kilometer away. “You’re going to awaken the English and lead them straight to us.”

The noise of mud sucking at his feet drowned out her words.

She rolled her eyes and moved soundlessly behind an ancient maple tree. They’d best just focus on getting away fast—since “quiet” wasn’t working for them. She surveyed the darkened trees. The clouds now blanketed the moon and stars, making the forest so black it obscured trees a meter in front of her. But the darkness would also make following them nigh impossible.

If not for Serge and his incessant noise.

He came up beside her, panting. “How do you move so fast in the dark? I can hardly follow you.”

“There’s a thick stand of firs several meters ahead.” She reached back to take hold of his wrist, keeping her eyes pinned on the goal ahead. “If we can get there, the English will have no hope of—”

“Finding you?” A hand reached out to clasp her upper arm.

She squealed at the sound of the familiar English voice.

“Serge, t’enfuis ! Run!” She shoved her brother away before Halston could grab him, as well. At least one of them would be free to find a gendarmerie post.

Serge’s heavy footfalls crashed into the darkness while a narrow beam of lantern light found her face.

“Where, exactly, did you intend to go this late?” Halston asked.

The oaf. He deserved to have his other cheek scratched as badly as the first. She curled her fingers into fists at her side.

He chuckled, clearly guessing the direction of her thoughts. “I wouldn’t attempt it again if I were you.”

She jerked her chin up. “Where I go is none of your concern.”

“Is that so?”

“Of course.”

“You’ll have to forgive me for not believing you, seeing how when you feigned sleep two hours ago, I left both you and your brother bound .”

The word cracked through the woods with such force she couldn’t help but cringe. “Mayhap we didn’t like being bound.”

His hand dug harder into her arm. “Wretched woman.”

She couldn’t make out more than his shadow with the way he held the light to shine on her alone, but she could well imagine him gritting his teeth as he called her wretched, just like Papa always did when he said she was insufferable.

Not that she was either wretched or insufferable.

“My brother has spent the past year and a half trapped in your horrid country for the heinous crime of traveling here when our two countries were at peace and not managing to leave before we were once again at war.” Frustration ground across the edges of his words. “When I came to rescue him, the French guide I paid quite handsomely betrayed us. Now Westerfield might well be dying, and he needs help. I’ve offered you two thousand pounds to take us to the channel, a sum that should be of great use to you and your family, and you look down as me as though I’m no more than dung on the heel of your boot. What must I do to convince you to help us? Offer you another thousand pounds?”