Regency High Society Vol 3: Beloved Virago / Lord Trenchard's Choice / The Unruly Chaperon / Colonel Ancroft's Love. Elizabeth RollsЧитать онлайн книгу.
A light scratch on the door forced her to abandon her unsettling reflections, and Katherine raised her head to see Marie enter. She thought she detected a glimmer of sympathy in the older woman’s eyes before Marie turned to the two serving-maids, bearing trays, and instructed them to enter.
Whilst the servants busied themselves placing the various dishes on the small table tucked in one corner of the bedchamber, Marie maintained a flow of inconsequential chatter, remarking that the evening had turned chilly, but that the landlord had predicted a fine day for tomorrow. She had never once forgotten the role she had been instructed to play—that of a devoted and conscientious lady’s maid. She was always alert and remarkably astute, which made her obvious regard for Major Daniel Ross all the more puzzling.
Even in her own highly disturbed state, Katherine had realised by Marie’s reaction to his unexpected appearance that Major Ross was none other than the man whom Sir Giles had engaged a few years before to effect Louise Baron’s escape. What she quite failed to understand, however, was why Marie held the odious creature in such high esteem. It was perhaps understandable why she should retain feelings of gratitude. But she had greeted him like some long-lost friend, for heaven’s sake!
Determined to have her curiosity satisfied, Katherine didn’t hesitate to broach the subject the instant the servants had completed their tasks and had left them to enjoy their dinner in private.
‘Major Daniel Ross.’ Marie repeated the name Katherine had just divulged as though it were a benediction. ‘Yes, mademoiselle. It was indeed he who succeeded in helping little Louise Baron,’ she added after a moment’s thoughtful silence.
‘You evidently hold him in high regard,’ Katherine prompted when Marie turned her attention once again to the food on her plate.
‘Indeed, I do, mademoiselle.’ Marie raised her eyes to gaze at some spot behind her dinner-companion’s head. ‘His orders were to secure Louise’s release. But he put his life at further risk by aiding me to escort her to a place of safety.’
Marie was silent whilst she subjected Katherine to a prolonged, searching stare. Then, seemingly satisfied with what she detected in the delicately featured face, she said, ‘I believe I told you that the Baron family was once very wealthy. Monsieur Baron employed a steward, a man who had worked diligently for the family. Some years after her parents were killed, whilst she was residing in Paris, Justine discovered where her late father’s steward and his family had fled, and it was in their care Justine wished her sister to be placed. Major Ross, as I have mentioned, ensured that we arrived at our destination safely. We should never have succeeded without him, that I know.’
‘And does Louise still reside with the family?’ Katherine enquired gently.
Marie nodded. ‘With one of them.’
‘And is she happy?’
‘Oh, yes, mademoiselle. Within a short time she married the eldest son, Pierre, and they have now two lovely children. With the money Justine left her sister, Louise and Pierre bought a vineyard, and have prospered. I too live with them,’ she added, before her gaunt features were softened by a gentle smile. ‘Until you revealed it a short while ago, I never knew the real name of the man to whom we owe so much. I only ever knew him as Antoine Durand.’
Her expression suddenly turning grave, she reached across the table to clasp Katherine’s left hand. ‘Set aside your differences, petite,’ she urged gently. ‘Believe me when I tell you that you could do no better than to put yourself in that man’s hands. He will guard you well.’
Later, after she had changed into her night-wear, Katherine sat on the edge of the bed, and began absently to pull a brush through her long auburn tresses as she turned over in her mind what Marie had disclosed during dinner.
Yes, she could well appreciate now why the Frenchwoman thought so well of Major Ross. Yet when it had been suggested that she could do no better than to place herself in his care, she could not bring herself to agree. But why?
A bitter smile tugged at one corner of her mouth. Oh, yes, she knew well enough why she had been so willing to blame him for poor Helen’s death; why she had been so contented to allow Major Daniel Ross to figure as the villain of the piece all these years. But that, she silently reminded herself, did not explain why now—now, when she had acknowledged how incredibly unjust and foolish she had been—she was still so determined to dislike him, to keep him at a distance.
It could not be denied that he possessed many of those traits she abhorred in his sex. None the less, she had been acquainted with several arrogant and dictatorial gentlemen during her lifetime, her grandfather to name but one, and she had experienced no difficulty whatsoever in tolerating their peccadilloes. So why was she so set against a more companionable relationship developing between her and the Major? After all, there was absolutely no danger at all in just liking someone. It was only when—
‘Ahh, what a delightful sight! The dutiful wife remaining awake in order to welcome her lord and master to bed.’
Katherine started so violently that the hairbrush shot out of her hand to land on the wooden floor with a clatter. It was as much as she could do to stare in horrified silence as the smugly smiling Major Ross entered the room and calmly closed the door. Just how long he had been standing there in the doorway, watching her, she had no way of knowing, for she certainly hadn’t detected the click of the latch, but she could not fail to hear the grating of the key now as it was turned in the lock.
‘What on earth do you imagine you are doing, sir?’ she demanded in a voice which had suddenly risen by an octave, making her sound more like a frightened child than the self-possessed young woman she had wished to appear.
‘What the devil do you imagine I’m doing, madam wife?’ he responded, sounding distinctly bored, as he proceeded to slip the key into the pocket of his tight-fitting breeches. ‘I am about to retire.’
For a moment Katherine was too stunned by this almost blase pronouncement to notice that he was calmly appraising her modest night-attire, from the ties at the base of her throat to where her unshod feet protruded from beneath the hem. Then she detected that unmistakable predatory gleam which she had glimpsed all too often in recent years in many pairs of masculine eyes.
She was on her feet in an instant, almost tripping over the edge of the rug in her haste to scramble into the robe which she had left hanging in the wardrobe. If the sudden smile which pulled at the corners of an attractive mouth was any indication, her actions appeared to have afforded him no little amusement, a circumstance which served to strengthen her resolve to be rid of his unwanted presence without delay.
‘I too wish to retire, sir, so I would be obliged if you remove yourself forthwith. Anything you have to say to me can quite easily wait until morning.’
‘For once we are in complete agreement, m’dear,’ he announced, surprising her somewhat, but the hope that she might be rid of him so easily was swiftly dashed when he plumped himself down on the bed, and began to remove his jacket.
Katherine could only gape in astonished disbelief as cravat and waistcoat were added to the coat which he had flung over the back of the chair, and it was only when he tossed one boot into the corner of the room that the full import of his actions hit her with frightening clarity. ‘You do not imagine surely that you are going to sleep in here?’
After removing his other boot and sending it the way of the first, he bent a look of mild surprise in her direction. ‘Where the deuce do you suppose I’m going to sleep?’
‘Anywhere but in here,’ she returned, silently cursing herself for foolishly forgetting to lock the door after Marie had returned to her own room. ‘I recall the landlord mentioning only yesterday that the inn is half empty now.’
‘Yes, I dare say it is. Most British visitors to this city have made a bolt for the Channel ports. Why do you suppose it took me so long to get here?’
Momentarily diverted by this snippet, she asked, ‘Was the journey here so very arduous? I wondered