Jack Chiltern's Wife (1999) (15 page)

‘You’re mad, you know that, don’t you?’

Jack laughed, wheeling his horse round. ‘Tell James to meet us at the cottage.’ And with that he was gone.

Kitty heard the key grating in the lock and the door opened. ‘Where is the English bitch?’ the turnkey demanded.

The woman next to her poked her in the side. ‘I think he means you.’

Kitty tried to stand. Her legs felt boneless and there was a knot of pain in her stomach that almost doubled her up; she did not know how she was going to walk. She forced herself upright and stepped forward.

‘Come with me,’ the jailer said, grabbing her arm and pushing her in front of him. ‘This way.’

She shrugged him off to walk unaided. At least she could die with dignity. Her shoulders went back and her head went up. I am not afraid, she said to herself. Then, aloud, ‘I am not afraid.’

He laughed.

Outside in the street a horse and cart stood ready to convey her to the guillotine. Beside it stood Jack, looking very fierce in his red cap and dirty old greatcoat. Shocked to the core to see him, she stumbled and would have fallen if the jailer had not taken her arm again.

‘She’s all yours, citizen,’ he said, pushing her towards Jack who gave her a look which told her to say nothing. Not that she could have uttered a word; she was too bewildered. Was Jack planning on a rescue from the very jaws of the guillotine? Oh, what a terrible risk. Especially when she had been at such pains not to involve him. But, oh, how glad she was to see him!

None too gently he grabbed her from the jailer. ‘My thanks, citizen, though why I should bother my head with her, I do not know.’

‘You’re welcome. And if I were you I’d beat her for wasting everyone’s time.’

‘That I will do,’ Jack said, grinning at him. ‘Good day to you, citizen.’ He picked Kitty up and heaved her into the cart with no more care than he would a sack of potatoes. ‘Get in there with you, woman. And be quiet.’

He climbed up on the cross bench and Kitty felt the cart jolt into motion. ‘Keep down,’ he muttered in a low voice. ‘The people will not like being deprived of their spectacle.’

They moved agonisingly slowly. Unable to see where they were going, she lay in the bottom of the cart, and gave thanks for her deliverance. Once again, Jack Chiltern had saved her life. But the risk to himself was enormous. Why had he bothered?

They left the town behind; she could no longer see buildings between the cracks in the side of the cart and the smooth road
had become a rutted track, she could tell by the added jolting. Still she dare not lift her head. There were trees blotting out the sky now and she wondered if they were going back to the château of Saint-Gilbert. She ought to tell him what she had overheard; there would be no welcome there, she was sure.

‘Jack, you must not—’

‘Save the talking for later, madam,’ he said so brusquely she felt it was wise to obey.

Half an hour later, he turned to look over his shoulder at her. She was crouched in the cart, looking crushed. He wanted desperately to soothe her, to comfort her, to tell her that he would go to the ends of the earth for her, but that would only make her think she could twist him round her little finger and behave with even less circumspection. It was too risky. ‘You can sit up now, if you like.’

She scrambled up beside him and impulsively took his arm. For a moment he looked down at her and then put his arm about her shoulders and pressed her to him. His bulk and warmth enveloped her like a comforting mantle and she laid her head against his chest and allowed herself the luxury of feeling protected. He was her bulwark, strong and steadfast, and she needed someone like that. But sometimes she needed a little tenderness, too, and he did not seem able to provide that.

‘Thank you,’ she said, looking up at him. He was looking straight ahead, almost as if he were embarrassed by that simple show of affection.

‘For what?’

‘For saving my life again. Once more I am in your debt and I don’t know how to thank you.’

He removed his arm and took up the reins in both hands again. ‘You could try doing as you’re told.’

She drew back from him and looked into his face, expecting thunderous looks to match his words, but there was no sign of
anger, only a quiet desperation. ‘I know. I am truly sorry. But I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t stay at the château. I had to leave.’

‘Why?’

‘To protect you.’

‘Protect me!’ He laughed. ‘How could you possibly protect me?’

‘By relieving you of a responsibility you find onerous and because you were right, we had outstayed our welcome. Men came to question your uncle after you left; after they had gone I heard the Marquis say you should never have brought me to them and he had to think of the safety of everyone else. I dared not wait for you to return.’

‘I half expected it. But my uncle satisfied them, I dare say.’

‘I think so, but then I thought of the risk my presence was causing them and you and so I decided to leave.’

‘And where did you think you were going?’

‘To Italy. I thought if I could cross the frontier …’

‘Without me? Without your brother?’

‘You could not find him. And the longer you searched, the greater the risk.’

He grinned. ‘You may set your mind at rest. Your brother is safe.’

‘Why didn’t you say so before?’ she cried, eyes bright with eagerness. ‘Where is he? Where did you find him? He’s not in trouble, is he?’

‘No more than he was before, but he will not leave Nanette and has gone back to the château to try and persuade her to come with us.’

‘Oh, no! He’ll be caught, just as I was.’ She paused, suddenly realising that no one at the château could have known she had been arrested. She had refused to give her name. And if that were so, how had Jack known where to look for her? ‘How did you know where to find me?’

‘You were seen leaving.’

‘Oh, I was followed. I guessed as much. Those men were the same ones who had been at the château. They found me in the stables at Malincourt.’

He twisted in his seat to face her. ‘What, in the name of all that’s holy, were you doing there?’

‘I was looking for somewhere to sleep for the night and I saw the gates and decided to go in.’

‘The place is in ruins.’

‘Yes, it must be very sad for you,’ she said gently.

‘Sadder for the
ci-devant comte
de Malincourt.’

‘Yes, to be sure. Did you know that coach had once belonged to the
comte
?’

‘Yes. We used it when we escaped the first time. We hid it in the barn of a deserted farm near Calais when we embarked for England. I remembered it when I needed a conveyance to get us to Paris.’

‘You didn’t want to take me to Paris, did you?’

‘Of course not. But as soon as you knew your brother was there, you were determined to go, with or without me. I could not allow you to run into danger, which you surely would have done had you gone alone.’

‘And then I did, in spite of your care. Oh, how angry you must have been that I had disobeyed you.’

‘Not angry,’ he said softly, remembering how he had felt when he had seen her hanging from the lantern. ‘There was no time for anger and afterwards …’ He shrugged and flicked the reins across the horse’s back, though, if he were honest with himself, he did not want it to go any faster. He was content for the moment just to have her safely by his side again.

When he had learned that she had been arrested, it had taken all his self-control not to dash after her and make a scene in the courtroom. He had pictured her in a crowded cell and then put up before the court and all the onlookers baying for blood like
so many thirsty hounds. His first task had been to discover how much was known about her and what she had been accused of and then to devise a plan.

‘And then I went and did it again,’ she said. ‘How did you manage to save me this time? That jailer handed me over to you without a qualm. He was laughing.’

He smiled crookedly. ‘I used the same story that worked before. I told them you were my foolish wife, a complete scatter-brain. You were in the forest gathering firewood when you came upon the old coach. It had obviously been abandoned and so you came home and fetched the horse and harnessed it up and brought it to our cottage.’

‘How clever of you. They obviously believed you.’

‘Yes, I said I had told you to put it back where you found it, that we could be in grave trouble if we kept it.’

‘But what about my English sovereigns?’

‘You found them hidden in the coach. We quarrelled when you wanted to keep them. You went off in a temper while I was working in the fields and I did not know you had gone until a neighbour came and told me you had been arrested.’

‘I am so sorry, but the more I realise all the risks you have taken to rescue me, the more I wonder why.’

He threw back his head and laughed. ‘I should have thought that was self-evident, you keep putting yourself in need of rescuing.’

‘I am grateful, of course I am, but that doesn’t answer my question. You did not need to do it. I have no claim on you.’

He smiled slowly. The claim she had was unbreakable; it tied him to her with bonds stronger than chains. He would die for her. ‘Let us say I must and leave it at that, shall we?’

‘Because of James?’

‘James?’ He was puzzled. ‘What has he to do with it?’

‘He saved your life when you were arrested last year. Maybe you thought you owed it to him.’

‘Who told you about that?’

‘Nanette.’

‘My goodness, you did have a pretty little coze about me, didn’t you? What else did she say?’

‘That you had been betrayed. Is it true?’

‘You could say that. Did she say why and by whom?’

‘By your wife. Nanette said she was forced into it.’ She looked up at him, waiting for his comment but the only reaction was a slight twitch in his jaw and a tightening of his hands on the reins. He obviously still found it difficult to talk about. ‘It is a terrible situation to be in, being so frightened you say things you don’t mean.’

‘True. But you did not, did you? You were not so frightened that you confessed all you knew. That was very brave of you.’

She must have been terrified and he would not have blamed her if she had spoken out, but as soon as he got to the court and started telling his cock-and-bull story, he knew she had remained silent. And he had been so proud of her when he saw her emerging into the sunlit street with her head high. Gabrielle had not even been under duress and, in any case, what she had told the prosecutor had been a tissue of lies.

‘I know very little.’

‘Enough. I shall have to devise a way of making you safer.’

‘How?’

‘I shall think of something.’

He fell silent, as if cogitating on the problem, and Kitty used the opportunity to look about her. They were climbing steadily along a dusty track. The sun beat down and the heat shimmered on the distant hills. Either side of them were terraced vineyards with people hoeing between the bushes. It was too soon to be gathering grapes, but they hung in clusters on the stems of the bushes, small and green. She wondered if the harvest was going to be good and hoped so for the people’s sake.

As they approached a crossroads, she noticed a man sitting on the ground beside a heap of stones which had been collected from the fields. He was eating a hunk of black bread, but stuffed it into his bag and rose as they approached. She gasped when she saw it was the roadmender.

‘Jack, that man …’ She nodded in his direction.

He laughed and pulled the horse to a halt. ‘It is my good friend, Thomas Trent.’

‘Your friend?’

‘Yes.’ He reached out and shook the man’s hand. ‘
Bonjour
, Thomas.’

‘
Bonjour, mon vieux
. Did you have any trouble?’

‘None at all. This, as you have no doubt guessed, is
citoyenne
Kitty Faucon, the bane of my life. Kitty, may I introduce Captain Thomas Trent.’

The captain smiled and climbed up beside her. ‘
Bonjour, citoyenne
. I am glad to make your acquaintance and only sorry you had to wait so long for rescue.’ His English was perfect and she realised, with a little sense of shock, that he was an Englishman.

‘You knew? Was it you who told Jack I had been arrested?’

‘Yes.’

‘I am glad you were there.’ She smiled. ‘You seem to be everywhere.’

He laughed, but made no comment. Jack set the horse off again, turning right and making for a stand of trees on the hills above the vineyards. She wondered where they were going, but did not dare ask.

Now there were three of them the intimacy she had shared with Jack was gone and she regretted its passing. For a little while he had seemed relaxed, willing to talk. He had almost dropped his guard. Almost. Now it was back again, as impenetrable as before.

‘Anything to report?’ he asked the roadmender.

‘No. I gave James your message.’

‘Any sign of the gendarmes?’

‘No, but they cannot be far away.’

‘Do you think they will be looking for us?’ Kitty asked.

‘Perhaps.’

‘But if they believed Jacques’s story …’

‘They would still follow it up.’

‘Then James is in danger. Jack, we must warn him. Where are we? How far is it to your uncle’s?’

He laughed. ‘You see, Thomas, what I have to contend with? She can’t help herself, you know. As soon as she scents an adventure, she must rush headlong into it …’

‘It’s no more than you do,’ she retorted.

‘I never rush headlong anywhere,’ he said, laconically. ‘I stop and think first.’

‘What are you thinking now?’

He smiled. ‘I am thinking that somehow, God knows how, I must cure you of your impetuosity.’

‘That’s not what I meant. I was speaking of warning James.’

‘Oh, that,’ he said calmly. ‘You must leave that to me, my dear. After all, there is nothing to connect Jacques Faucon and his erring wife with the
ci-devant
Marquis de Saint-Gilbert. Is there?’ He turned to look at her, requiring confirmation that she had said nothing to her captors.

‘No, I suppose not. If it was Monsieur Trent and not the gendarmes who saw me leave.’