His Forbidden Liaison. Joanna MaitlandЧитать онлайн книгу.
a little crossly. ‘It would require a complete ninny, sir, to do such a thing without cause. Those men were trying to break into my room, to steal my goods, I imagine.’ She gestured to the piles of parcels. ‘I had a choice. To lie in my bed and wait to be robbed, even murdered. Or to confront them on my terms.’ She raised the candlestick. ‘Would you have had me do otherwise?’
Jack was not absolutely sure, but he thought her eyes might have flashed with anger as she spoke. His Amazon was certainly challenging him. He had been wrong about her, and he would have to apologise. ‘Your reactions were admirable, ma’am, and very courageous. If I have seemed to suggest anything else, I apologise.’
She softened a little then. Jack could see it in the slight relaxation of her shoulders. And she lowered the candlestick, too.
He peered past her into the room. ‘You have no maid, ma’am?’
She shook her head. ‘A manservant only. He sleeps in the carriage.’
‘It might be safer to have him sleep outside your door.’
She seemed to consider that for a moment. ‘You may be right, sir. I will remember your advice. And now, if I may impose on you a little more, I should be most grateful if you would arrange for these two would-be thieves to be taken to the authorities.’
He could not leave them as they were. Since only their hands were tied, there was a danger they might escape. ‘Might I have two more pieces of your silk, ma’am? I think their legs need to be bound while I go for the constable.’ He knelt once more by the two unconscious bodies.
At that moment, the knife man groaned. ‘I should have hit him harder,’she said, before turning away to fetch more silk.
Jack sat back on his heels. So much for his choke-hold. He owed his deliverance from the knife, not to his own quick wits and fighting skills, but to a brave French woman and a brass candlestick.
Chapter Two
Ben dropped his valise, groaned and put a hand to his head. Even the weak spring sunshine must be too strong for him, for he was trying to shade his eyes.
‘Don’t expect any sympathy from me, Ben,’ Jack said. ‘In this part of the world, the wine is remarkably strong and pure hangover juice. It’s nothing like the fine champagnes we were served in Vienna.’
Ben groaned again. ‘I’ll know better next time.’
‘And perhaps, next time, you’ll be awake enough to help. If that French woman hadn’t been so handy with her candlestick, I could have been sliced up like a prime ham.’ He smiled softly to himself at the memory of his Amazon. A pity they’d had to leave the inn so early. He would have welcomed a chance to see her again, if only to ask after her well-being. And finally to see the colour of her eyes! ‘That ruffian certainly meant business,’ he added, forcing himself to put the fair French woman from his thoughts.
‘Yes, I’m sorry. What will happen now? You don’t have to stay to give evidence against those fellows, do you?’
Jack shook his head. ‘No. The innkeeper is used to such starts, it seems. He said he would deal with them. No need for me, or the lady, to remain. I must say I am glad of it. If I’d had to give evidence against those two, I might have been forced to say more than is wise. Indeed, I think it’s best if we leave Marseilles immediately.’ He bent to pick up Ben’s valise as well as his own. He might not offer words of sympathy, but he could provide practical help for his friend’s pounding head.
‘But aren’t we supposed to find out about the Bonapartists in Marseilles? Wellington suspected—’
‘And he was right. I went out on to the quay earlier, while you were still snoring.’ He grinned wickedly and started slowly along the harbour side. ‘There’s lots of talk about the Emperor and how he promised to return with the violets. Lots of treasonous muttering against King Louis, too. Must say I was surprised at how open it was. They knew I was near enough to overhear, but they didn’t bother to lower their voices.’
‘Sounds bad.’
‘Yes. There are always troublemakers on any dockside, even at home, but Englishmen would have taken care not to be overheard. I had the impression that these Frenchmen are beyond caring, that they see Bonaparte as a last, desperate hope.’
Ben shook his head and made a noise in his throat.
Jack could not be sure if the moan was a result of Ben’s hangover or his concern about the risks of rebellion. ‘Best if we make oust to the coaching inn. There must be some kind of diligence to take us north, especially this early in the day. And if the coach is full of passengers, we may glean some useful information by listening to what they have to say.You’d be best to go back to being mute, I suppose.’
Ben nodded. They both knew it was safer that way.
‘Never mind, old fellow.’ Jack grinned suddenly. ‘Shouldn’t be for long, and then—’
‘It doesn’t matter.’ Ben leant across to take his bag from Jack’s hand. ‘It’s for the mission, remember?’
‘Ah, good. You’re feeling better.’
Ben nodded again. This time he smiled. ‘Let’s go.’
They quickened their pace along the side of the harbour. The ship that had brought them from Genoa was still lying at anchor, waiting for the tide. Her decks were swarming with Italian sailors. One or two of them shouted a greeting. Jack waved a hand, but did not pause. There was too much to do. ‘We should be able to—’
A loud shout stopped them in their tracks. Jack spun on his heel. A group of burly men had appeared from the inn where they had lodged overnight. Two of them had dirty grey bandages round their heads, and they were pointing at Jack and Ben. Jack gasped. ‘Those are the two ruffians from last night.’
Ben looked back. ‘The men with them don’t look anything like constables, either.’
As they watched, the group of Frenchmen split into two. The two bandaged men remained by the inn door, but their fellows were striding up the quayside towards Jack and Ben. A sudden shaft of watery sunlight caught the gleam of knife blades against dark clothing.
‘Dear God! The landlord must have been in league with them, and now they’re after us. I don’t like the odds, with five of them and two of us.’
‘We’d better run for it.’Valise in hand, Ben started for the end of the harbour.
‘You go on. I’ll follow.’Jack was digging into his pocket as Ben took to his heels. Then he yelled at the sailors on the Genoese ship. ‘Hey, you fellows! This is for you, with our thanks.’ He flung the handful of coins high in the air, right into the path of their pursuers. Without waiting to see the reaction from the ship, he turned and hared after Ben.
Behind him, Jack heard shouts in a mixture of languages. The sailors must be scrambling on to the quayside and fighting the Frenchmen for the coins. He and Ben had time to escape. They would—
Ahead of him, Ben had stopped and turned, foolishly waiting for Jack to catch up with him. A moment later, the sharp crack of a pistol echoed round the harbour. Ben cried out and fell to the ground. He had been shot!
In seconds, Jack had caught up with Ben and was hauling him back to his feet. He was conscious, though very pale. He had dropped his valise and was clutching at his shoulder. Jack put an arm round his waist. ‘Come on. Let me take your weight. We can get away.’
Ben gritted his teeth and did his best to run.
‘I will mind the horses, Guillaume, if you fetch the provisions.’
‘But, mistress, it’s not safe to leave you here alone with the coach and all the silk. You know what happened last night.’
Marguerite shook her head. ‘It will not happen again. Look.’ She took a step forward so that the folds of her skirt moved.