Page 10 of Rebel Heart


  *

  He led the horses back through the sunken lane, almost as dark in daylight as it had been the previous night. Elinor was berating herself for her foolishness in trying to escape. She might have known he would not permit it. All she had achieved was greater danger and delay, while Belinda had performed the task she had forgotten. No wonder he was cool towards her.

  She had plenty of time for reflection as they rode through the day. Sir Talbot was silent, replying curtly that she was incapable of seeing to herself when she tried to apologise for creating greater problems. He was detestably right. Some of her misfortunes she had brought on herself, especially the latest. Life at the inn would have been difficult, if not intolerable, she admitted now. Pushing away such thoughts she began to think of Kit. Was her brother as impetuous as when he had run away to fight for the Stuart cause? Had his travels and marriage sobered him? What would he do when he knew how she had been treated? Then she began to be afraid. Kit would want revenge, and to free her, but that could not be unless Francis died. Would Kit try to challenge Francis, even seek him out in England? She could not endure being responsible for that, Kit in danger and Francis dead. Passionately as she now hated him she could not wish Francis dead.

  Was there no way of severing the marriage? She had no one to speak for her, since Sir Talbot, a wanted man, could not support her story in England. Eventually she decided the safest way would be to keep the marriage secret from Kit. She glanced at Sir Talbot, but he looked stern and unfriendly. Now was not the time to ask favours of him, she must wait until they were nearer their destination.

  They reached Brighthelmstone and the fisherman's wife gave them huge helpings of a delicious mutton stew while they waited for the boat to be made ready. The journey was uneventful, the sea calm. Elinor slept deeply in the tiny cabin, and during the day enjoyed the light breeze and bright sunshine. At dusk on the following night they were put ashore near Fécamp, beneath a forbidding range of cliffs.

  Matt and Sir Talbot shouldered the saddlebags and Matt led the way across the beach. They clambered up a steep cleft which ran back between high precipitous walls. Towards the top the rocks became mossy and small bushes grew amongst them.

  'We'd best camp here,' Sir Talbot decided when they had almost reached the top and found a small sheltered hollow to one side. 'You can go and buy horses in the morning, Matt. Here, roll yourself in this,' he added curtly, giving Elinor a cloak. She obeyed silently, and for a while dozed restlessly. She was aware Sir Talbot sat beside her for some time, until with a sigh he eventually rolled himself in his own cloak and lay down beside her.

  *

  Gradually the cold penetrated the cloak and Elinor woke, shivering. She curled closer into a ball, rubbed her arms hard, but still her teeth chattered.

  'Come here,' the whisper just reached her. She lay still, and Sir Talbot spoke again. 'You mustn't be ill again, come and lie under my cloak.'

  He stretched out and pulled her towards him, sliding one arm beneath her and arranging his own cloak over them both. Elinor's shivering increased, not from cold, but the strange sensations coursing through her body as she lay clasped in his arms.

  He held her tightly and gradually she became still, warm and feeling remarkably safe and peaceful. When she awoke she was alone, and the sun was high in the sky. She exclaimed and sat up, to see Sir Talbot seated on a rock, staring across the sea which could be glimpsed between the high chalky cliffs to either side of them.

  'Where is Matt?'

  'To Fécamp to buy horses. We will ride inland a while before we eat.'

  'How far is it to St Germain?'

  'Two, possibly three days. You had best be my niece again,' he added abruptly, and Elinor flushed as she recalled how she had spent the night cradled in his embrace.

  'Sir Talbot, may I request a favour?' she asked, twisting her hands nervously. 'I do not wish Kit to know I married Francis. I beg you will not tell him.'

  'Why not, it was no real marriage, you have no need to feel ashamed.'

  'It isn't that. Kit hates Francis, I fear what he might do. I do not wish him to be endangered.'

  'As you wish,' he replied sharply. 'Let us walk to meet Matt.'

  They packed up their possessions, scrambled to the top of the hanging valley, and after a while saw Matt approaching.

  'I could only buy two nags,' he apologised as he reached them. 'You'll have to ride pillion, Miss Elinor, but the beast's a sturdy one, he'll not notice your weight.'

  *

  They rode through dull uninteresting country towards Rouen, keeping well to the north of the meandering River Seine. Elinor noticed little, too absorbed in her tumultuous emotions as she rode so close to Sir Talbot, leaning against his back with her arms about him.

  They broke their fast at a small inn where they sampled the cider for which the region was famous, and rode on past farmers working on their plots, and through the occasional welcome shade of small woods. They halted early in the evening at a wayside inn. After supper in the private parlour Elinor went to her bedroom while Sir Talbot and Matt sat over another bottle of wine. She sat in the window, watching the sunset. Despite her joyful anticipation of reunion with Kit, she was gloomily thinking Sir Talbot would soon depart. Now she knew just how deeply she cared for him, but her love was hopeless. He considered her foolish, a burden, and not even attractive.

  Suddenly she heard people whispering outside her door. Nervous of all odd happenings, she went across to try and hear what they were about. They had moved away, and she opened the door a crack to peer through. She bit back an exclamation of horror. Outside the door of the private parlour were two men, their features hidden with mufflers. One carried a pistol, the other a cudgel.

  Before she could move they had kicked open the door and were inside. Elinor ran to the door and saw the gunman a foot in front of her, his pistol pointed straight at Sir Talbot, while the other man moved round to threaten from the side. Their conversation was virtually unintelligible to Elinor, since Aunt Theodora had considered it unmaidenly for girls to study the language of papists and libertines, and all she knew were a few words she had learned from Kit, but it was perfectly obvious they were demanding money. Sir Talbot answered sharply, and a deep red flush stained the neck of the man in front of Elinor. He spoke rapidly to his companion, who stepped backwards, and slowly began to count.

  'Un,' he began, adding something and laughing humourlessly. His finger tightened on the trigger. 'Deux,' he went on slowly, and aimed the pistol more carefully.

  'Trois,' he began, and at the same time as he pulled the trigger Elinor threw herself forwards and clung to his arm so that the pistol fired harmlessly into the floor. She hung on desperately as he attempted to shake her off and Sir Talbot, dodging the man with the cudgel, leapt across the room towards them. Just before he reached them the man thrust Elinor roughly against the door and swung his pistol round, catching Sir Talbot a glancing blow on the leg just before his own throat was seized in a punishing grip.

  Matt had hurled himself at the man wielding the cudgel, and despite a blow to his shoulder contrived to wrench the weapon away and use it to beat the owner unconscious. Meanwhile Sir Talbot was almost choking the other man.

  'Elinor, something to tie his hands,' he ordered calmly, and she ran to fetch the table napkins. By the time the landlord had panted up the steep stairs to discover the cause of the commotion one assailant was lying senseless and the other was trussed firmly, red in the face and gasping for breath, but harmless.

  Almost prostrate with dismay at such happenings in his respectable hostelry, the landlord was eager to send for the mayor of the nearest town, but eventually agreed to lock up the miscreants in one of his cellars for the night. Matt helped remove them and soon returned, brandishing the key.

  'They'll not mysteriously escape,' he said, pouring a glass of wine for Elinor, who had retreated to sit in a chair beside the table while the men had been dealt with. Then he turned to Sir Talbot and his eyes
widened in dismay.

  'Your leg! The cut has reopened, it's bleeding again.'

  'The bandage must have been dislodged when he hit me,' Sir Talbot replied nonchalantly. 'Elinor, we both owe our lives to you. Thank you, my dear, you were very brave and resourceful.'

  She was staring at the fast-spreading stain of bright red blood on his breeches, and shook her head in quick rebuttal.

  'Matt, bandages, quickly, and water. Sir Talbot, let me see, let me bind it up again!'

  In some amusement he rolled up his breeches and she removed the bandage which, as he had said, had been disturbed by the blow from the pistol. The cut began just above the knee and was several inches long, but fortunately had not touched any muscles. It was bleeding profusely, however, and it took some time before Elinor was happy she had padded the cut and bound it tightly enough to prevent further bleeding.

  'My thanks,' he murmured softly and Elinor, suddenly aware of his naked skin where she was adjusting the edge of the bandage, jerked her hand away as if she had been stung.

  'Who were they?' she asked, convinced that her loudly beating heart was drowning all the other sounds in the room.

  'The landlord vowed he had not seen them before tonight, when they arrived and asked for a room. It may be so. At least they do not appear to have aught to do with German George.'

  'Do you think Francis hired them?' she asked fearfully.

  'I doubt it, my dear, but I shall question them myself before handing them over to the mayor. Your husband,' he added, his tone caustic, 'would not have been able to trace us or arrange for our murders so quickly.'

  'I'll go back to my room,' she said in a low voice. Must he remind her of her miserable marriage? She was trying to forget but he seemed to delight in taunting her. She went swiftly away, and spent a sleepless night thinking of the cheerless life ahead of her when he would be gone, longing to recapture the feel of his arms about her when she had slept in his arms.

  *

  When Sir Talbot had satisfied himself their attackers were not connected with Francis or the English Court, he handed them over to an embarrassingly grateful local mayor and then, insisting his wound did not discommode him, they set off once more. Forced to halt for another night Sir Talbot, saying Matt was far too rough with him, attempted to persuade Elinor to renew the bandages, but she ignored the satirical look in his eye, pleaded tiredness, and escaped. Last night she had been thinking of nothing except stopping the bleeding, but she knew her trembling hands would betray her if she had any further such intimate contact with him.

  She slept dreamlessly, and after an early start they reached the forest to the north of St Germain, part of the old hunting grounds of the French kings, by noon.

  'Where is Kit's house?' Elinor asked, suddenly eager to meet her brother and his wife.

  'Near the castle, in the town. Their chateau is some distance away, but they are sure to be in the town house, to be near the Queen.'

  'Is the French Court here too?'

  'No, they moved to Versailles five and thirty years ago. It is much larger and grander, not a home as St Germain is. The park here was laid out by Le Nộtre, and there is a magnificent view across the Seine from the terraces. It is pleasant to walk there on summer evenings when the heat of the day is over. King James the Second died here and is buried in the church.'

  In the town Sir Talbot led them to a house in a quiet street beyond the castle. A demure, dark eyed maid opened the door and led them into a cool, simply furnished room, saying she would inform her master of their arrival. Nervously Elinor paced the room, swinging round with a gasp as the door opened again. Then she ran to fling herself into the arms of the man who stood there, sobbing and laughing at once.

  'Kit! Oh, Kit, we thought you must be dead! You are thinner, are you well?'

  'Elinor! My dear, I began to wonder if you would ever come! Talbot, my friend, forgive me my doubts about your ability to succeed. I should have had more faith in you.'

  'We were somewhat delayed, I fear,' Sir Talbot said dryly. 'How is Louise?'

  'Well, but in attendance on the Queen. She will be home soon. Babette, bring wine and cakes. Elinor, sit down, I want to hear everything. What delay? Talbot, do sit down, my dear fellow. What news from England?'

  They began the tangled story, and Louise, a petite blonde beauty, arrived during the telling and they had to start again. Then she whisked Elinor off to help her settle into the room which they had, she said, had waiting for weeks.

  'But I do not blame you for dallying with Talbot, he is a most charming man, is he not?' she asked in her fascinatingly accented English.

  Elinor blushed. 'I suppose he is handsome,' she said with a shrug. 'He is moody, though.'

  'Moody? What is that?'

  'Quiet, often angry for no reason,' Elinor explained.

  'No doubt the politics,' Louise said, dismissing it with an airy wave of the hand. 'Men, they care too much for politics instead of the important things in life, love and home and family! I think Kit hoped you and his friend would fall in love, but if you dislike him we must find you someone else, perhaps a Frenchman who will appreciate you as you deserve! I have the best possible arrangement, an Englishman who is strong and constant, but who lives in France and knows how to please a woman. But you are blushing, please forgive me. Tomorrow I will call my dressmaker, you must have many new clothes before we take you to Court.'

  She chattered on until they descended for supper. Kit was waiting for them. He was alone.

  'Where is Talbot?' Louise demanded.

  'He had to go immediately to the Queen, and begged me to apologise for him. No doubt he will call tomorrow.'

  He could not even wait to say farewell, Elinor thought bleakly. It was as though he had delivered a parcel into Kit's keeping. She was very quiet during the meal and thankful when Louise firmly escorted her to bed as soon as they had finished.

  It was only by telling herself Sir Talbot was a detestable man, and she did not in the least care for him, that Elinor managed to survive the next day. She took no interest in the silks and brocades and velvets brought by Louise's dressmaker, and it was Louise who decided what was to be made up, and in what styles.

  'I cannot understand it, she seems to be dreaming all the time,' Louise said later to Kit.

  'She was very ill, from what Talbot told me, and has had some terrifying experiences, being shipwrecked and abducted. We must be patient. It is unfortunate I have to go soon to join the negotiations over the help they may offer us. I must also visit the King at Urbino, so it may be some months before I am able to return to St Germain.'

  All day Elinor waited, hoping Sir Talbot would call, but he did not.

  'Busy resuming his acquaintance with the young women,' Louise said with a laugh. 'They all lose their hearts to him, though he cares not a jot for any. Thank goodness you are not suffering from lovesickness, Elinor,' she went on. 'You will have your choice of men as soon as you go to Court. We have selected some delicious gowns,' she told Kit. 'There is one in a heavenly blue, with silver thread, and another of pale primrose with deeper yellow ribbons. Tomorrow we must go and purchase slippers and fans and stockings, Elinor. You must be elegantly dressed to match your beauty.'

  She bore Elinor off, and when they returned, laden with shopping, they found Sir Talbot in the salon with Kit. He kissed their hands as Louise laughingly chided him.

  'We thought you had forgotten us! But I will forgive you if you will come to a supper party the day after tomorrow, where I plan to introduce Elinor to a few of our friends.'

  'I regret, I cannot come,' he replied. 'I leave for Spain tomorrow.'

  'Spain?' Kit exclaimed, and Elinor momentarily closed her eyes to hide the pain in them. 'For how long?'

  *

  Chapter 11

  As summer faded to autumn Elinor grew more accustomed to hiding the fact she deeply missed Sir Talbot. By now she freely accepted she loved him and could never love another man. This, rather than the secret ma
rriage which bound her legally to Francis, prevented her from responding to the men at Queen Mary's Court.

  'They think of you as the ice virgin,' Louise once said. 'It intrigues them, for they suspect there are fires beneath your cool manner. Do you really have no preferences?'

  'No, they are all much the same, fribbles hiding beneath a woman's skirts instead of fighting for their rightful king,' Elinor replied scornfully.

  'Is that how you regard Kit?' Louise asked sharply.

  'Of course not. He has risked his life, and he does a real task here.'

  'It chafes him to wait for messages,' Louise admitted. 'I fear the day fighting begins again, but it is bound to.'

  'What news is there?' Elinor asked, hoping to hear of Sir Talbot. He was rarely mentioned, and she was reluctant to risk revealing her feelings by asking directly. Louise would make arch comments and attempt to make Sir Talbot offer for her which, since he had no interest in her, would merely embarrass them both. Besides, she was tied to Francis.

  'Rumours that Sweden withdraws, too concerned with her Russian quarrel,' Louise replied. 'Hope from Spain, I believe, but nothing certain.'

  The ageing Queen Mary, with whom Kit was a favourite, welcomed Elinor with great kindness and she was frequently at Court. One day the Queen drew Kit aside.

  'Does your sister pine for a lover in England?' she demanded.

  'I do not understand her,' Kit confessed. 'She was about to marry, but I cannot believe she pines for him after his perfidy.'

  'Girls often have to wed where they do not love. Was there someone else?'

  'She has mentioned no one. Louise thinks not.'

  'Then it must be Sir Talbot she dreams of,' the Queen said briskly.

  'I did wonder,' Kit replied, 'but he seemed to treat her somewhat overbearingly, and she never mentions him now.'

  'That is suspicious. He is a most attractive young man, and some women delight in firmness in their lovers.'

  'Not Elinor,' Kit declared. 'She has a decided will of her own and never relished being forced to do what she did not wish. I believe her present calm appearance is due to the shocks she received.'

  He watched Elinor more closely, but she was now skilled in hiding her feelings. One man, Charles Courteney, seemed able to make her laugh frequently, and Kit was hopeful when Charles came to him.