The Reckless Bride (35 page)

Except …

Opening one eye, he saw a delicate shoulder, ivory satin peeking through a broken veil of dark silk, and relaxed. With his senses reached for the body wrapped in his arms, registering its warmth and softness, then he allowed his limbs to fall leaden once more.

He closed his eyes on an inward, quietly gloating smile.

They were in his bed, and he had no wish to let this lady—his lady—go, not until dawn tinged the sky and he was forced to.

Surrendering to the pleasure still fogging his mind, he let his thoughts free, let them roam.

Wondered, fleetingly, what progress he’d made—whether the night’s interlude had strengthened the sensual bonds with which he sought to bind her to him. Enough so she
would accept his suit without further argument … that led to the question of what had happened, and where they were now … what had changed …

It didn’t require much consideration to reveal the uncomfortable truth.

He might have succeeded in further enthralling her, but not without cost.

Ignoring the truth, the reality of what he felt, had just grown immeasurably harder.

I
’ve made up my mind and I will not be swayed.” Seated in one of the salon’s armchairs, Esme looked up at Rafe.

He stood before her, his mind scrambling in the wake of her latest decree.

Her lips lifted faintly. “I’ll be perfectly safe, dear boy.” With a wave, she indicated the plump, matronly nun seated in the other armchair. “You can trust dear Henny to make sure of it.”

Dear Henny—Henrietta Wimplethorpe, apparently an old and dear childhood friend of Esme’s, now the abbess of a nearby convent—beamed cherubicly. With her soft blond hair and apple cheeks, she looked more like a Helga—or her convent’s patron saint, Hildegard of Bingen.

Dragging a hand through his hair, Rafe decided the second allusion was more apt. There was a shrewdness behind the twinkling blue eyes regarding him. Measuringly.

“Esme’s right, you know.” Hildegard—Henny—aimed her sunny smile at him. “The convent’s impregnable—it’s withstood sieges, marauders, and all manner of attackers through the ages. And we still keep the place locked up tight. It’s a closed community, which"—she glanced at Esme—"sounds like just what’s needed.”

“And you’ll do much better without me, dear boy. Especially on this last stretch, when you will have to travel faster, and possibly have to duck, weave, and scuttle to avoid cult pursuit. At my age, ducking, weaving, and scuttling is beyond me.”

“But …” He didn’t know why he was arguing. Esme was right in that her relative lack of mobility might become a liability the closer they got to England. Yet …

As if she could read his mind, she continued imperturbably, “And you said it yourself—it’s possible Manning will persevere, that he will learn that the Prussian failed him and have another villain in his pocket to throw against me. On this penultimate leg of your mission, you can’t afford the distraction of having to defend me against Manning’s hired thugs.”

He exhaled through his teeth. “It’s just …”

“That you accepted the mantle of Esme’s protector in Buda, and your honor and loyalty make you reluctant to yield it up.” Henny spoke with the authority of one used to guiding others. “Entirely understandable, indeed, to be lauded. However, in this case, you need to bow to the greater call on your devotion—completing your mission successfully must take precedence over all else.”

Looking into Henny’s eyes, old and wise and very sure, he had to acknowledge that an abbess would unquestionably know all about devotion.

He dragged in a breath. Forced himself to incline his head. Tried not to think of what accepting Esme’s plan would mean for him and Loretta. Parting now, after last night and the night before, after what he’d realized in the still depths of the night when he’d woken and found her in his arms … just the thought caused a painful wrench somewhere inside him.

Lips compressed, he shifted his gaze to Esme, fighting the urge to glance at Loretta seated on the window seat to his right, and nodded. “Very well. Hassan and I will see you to the convent, then go on alone.”

Esme opened her eyes wide. “No, no, dear boy—you misunderstand. Only myself and Gibson will remain here—Loretta and Rose must go on with you.”

Battling the urge to clutch his head with both hands, Rafe stared at her. “That’s …”
Perfect,
Reckless purred. “Not possible.” He glanced at Henny. “Such a situation would be highly improper.”

Henny pursed her lips. “Irregular, perhaps, but not out of the question, and in this instance, with Rose by her side, Loretta’s reputation wouldn’t be at risk.” Henny blinked up at him. “The circumstances are rather difficult, after all.”

“But …” Rafe ran his hand through his hair again. “What possible reason could there be for Loretta to travel on, rather than wait here with you?”

“Because,” Esme replied, her tone suggesting she was explaining the obvious, “without Loretta to bear witness to my wishes, how do you imagine prevailing on my man-of-business to act against Charles Manning? Dear Henny has agreed to provide me with safe refuge for the nonce, but I cannot remain—indeed, much as I adore Henny, do not wish to remain—in the convent forever. My safe release will depend on removing the threat Manning poses, and to accomplish that, you will need to persuade my representatives to act in my absence.”

Hands on his hips, Rafe looked down at her. “You could give me a letter stating your wishes—that you wish your people to respond to the situation as I describe it.”

“Oh, I’ve already written such a letter, dear boy, but I speak from experience when I tell you that without Loretta, my flesh and blood, and indeed one of my heirs, standing before him and stating unequivocally that I did indeed write that missive and that it does indeed represent my wishes, Heathcote Montague will not budge. Why, when I was trying to manage things from Scotland, the stubborn man posted all the way up into the Highlands just to confirm that the missives he was receiving were indeed from me and correctly represented my wishes. He’s the definition of cautious
when it comes to his clients’ business. I daresay that’s why he’s so highly thought of.”

Rafe could detect nothing but calm certainty in Esme’s eyes. She was speaking the truth, at least as she knew it. He didn’t dare glance at Loretta to see how she was taking her relative’s maneuvering.

“Besides,” Henny said, glancing at Loretta, “the convent is no place for an active young lady.” She looked at Rafe. “As I said, we’re a closed community. No one visits us, and we rarely venture out. All very well for Esme, especially as she and I have so much catching up to do. But for Loretta … she’d be climbing the walls in a week, and her Rose with her.”

Finally, Rafe glanced at Loretta.

Shifting her gaze from Henny, she met his eyes. After a moment’s silence, she lightly shrugged. “Unless you have some strong counterargument, it appears Rose and I will be traveling on with you.”

Loretta understood Rafe’s difficulty; she, too, felt torn. Riding back in a hired carriage after parting from Esme and Gibson at Henny’s convent deep in the forests a short way from Bingen, she still felt the tug of conflicting emotions.

On the one hand, she was hugely relieved that she would be traveling on with Rafe—aside from all else, after all that had passed between them, and even more all she hoped would come to be, what she was almost certain she would learn if she pressed hard enough, the instant the possibility of being left in the convent had loomed, one question had risen, screaming, in her mind: what if he was injured again?

She was highly conscious of the warmth of his large body as he sat in the carriage alongside her. Who would continue to tend his arm, to salve and rebind it, as he was loath to do and had to be constantly reminded? If she didn’t, who would? Could she trust Hassan to insist in the face of Rafe’s tetchiness?

As for the prospect of any worse befalling him … that she wasn’t prepared to contemplate. Not at all.

The relief she’d felt when Esme had declared and insisted that she travel on with him had been acute.

But she didn’t like leaving Esme either.

Henny had arrived immediately after breakfast in reply to a letter Esme had apparently dispatched by courier the previous night, requesting asylum. Gibson had already had their bags packed.

After their discussion in the salon, there’d been no sense in dallying. As Esme had pointed out, they’d already spent more time in Bingen than Julius had allowed for; the boat needed to get on.

She, Rafe, Hassan, and Rose had accompanied Esme, Gibson, and Henny back to the convent. They’d stood at the gates and hugged and kissed—Esme had insisted on tugging Rafe down and kissing his cheek, too. Then she’d gone inside with Henny. Loretta had stood beside Rafe and waved until the door of the convent had swung shut and sealed Esme away.

But Esme was now safe, as safe as she could be, which was also a relief. Over their travels, Loretta had grown deeply fond of her outrageous and incorrigible great-aunt.

Although the sky was overcast, the clouds had remained high and the rain had held off. The day wasn’t as cold as the one before—it was a good day for traveling.

“Here we are.” Rafe leaned forward as the carriage slowed, then opened the door and stepped down to the wharf.

Out of habit, he surveyed their surroundings before turning and handing Loretta down. Leaving Hassan to climb down and assist Rose, he led Loretta to where the
Loreley Regina
bobbed at dock, the crew waiting, eager to be off.

“I hope she’ll be all right,” Loretta murmured as he assisted her up the gangplank.

“Esme’s a suvivor. She’ll probably drive Henny to distraction, but …” He stepped down to the deck. “As soon as my mission’s complete, I’ll go to London, meet with her Mr.
Montague, and then I believe I’ll pay Sir Charles Manning a visit.”

Leading the way into the prow, Loretta glanced back at him. “That would be … very kind.”

Strolling after her, his eyes on hers, he shrugged. “It’s the least I can do in recompense for the many good things your estimable relative’s interference has brought me.”

Looking into his eyes, she read the message therein, then smiled her secretive smile and halted by the rail to watch the roofs of Bingen slide away.

In the early afternoon, they started the descent down the stretch of river known as the Rhine Gorge. The river swung north. Where until then the river banks had been low lying, strips of meadowland running back to meet whatever hills and mountains marched nearby, now cliffs rose directly from the water on either side; the river rushed between with increased force, whipping into small whirlpools close by the rocky shores, sweeping the boat on in unexpected surges.

Julius and his crew handled the challenges with a mixture of gusto and aplomb, checking and resetting their sails, constantly shifting position to ride the currents safely. To them, guiding the small riverboat through the tricky waters was a game, one they relished and were confident of winning.

Standing by the prow rail beside Loretta, Rafe watched the river rush giddily past. The shadows cast by the cliffs swallowed them. Although the heights afforded excellent vantage points to watch boats barreling down the river, they were moving too fast for any direct attack. He suspected this day and the next while they rushed down the gorge would be their last relatively safe stretch.

That they’d managed to get this close to England without any clash with the cult was due entirely to his wisdom in choosing to travel via the rivers, combined with a healthy dose of luck. He suspected their luck would run out when they reached Bonn, if not before.

Until then, however … if his time in the army had taught
him anything it was that life was too short to waste good times.

Shifting his gaze to Loretta’s face, he studied her clear profile. “Does your family retire to the country for Christmas, or remain in town?” He wanted to know; the answer would be relevant later.

She glanced briefly at him. “We usually congregate at one or other of my sisters’ houses. One’s in Berkshire, the other in Oxfordshire.” Looking back at the cliffs, she added, “I wonder if it’s snowed yet.”

“It’s the fifteenth of December, so it might have.”

Loretta regarded him as he leaned on the rail alongside her. “You’ve been in India for years—are you looking forward to a white Christmas?”

His brows rose; he considered, then replied, “Yes, I am. It’s been a long time since I spent Christmas with family. The thought of a snowy Christmas takes me back to those days.”

“You have brothers and sisters, like me. At Christmas, what games did you play?”

They swapped anecdotes, some clearly fond family tales, others too unexpected and particular to be drawn from anything but personal experience. Many were revealing, but if both of them noticed, neither drew back. They exchanged tit for tat, memories of being children in England and Christmases long past while the Rhine swept them deeper into its gorge, on between soaring forested cliffs.

Then Rafe spotted the first castle. Delighted, Loretta retrieved the guidebook Esme had left with her, flicked it open.

As the boat surged, dipped, canted, then whisked on, she read from the book while Rafe played lookout, scanning the heights for stone towers and crenallated battlements.

“Look!” Rafe pointed. “That’s the Loreley Rock.”

Loretta gazed at the massive outcrop jutting out from the right bank. Frowned. “I thought it would be more … impressive. Are you sure that’s it?”

Rafe nodded. “Julius described it to me.”

They studied the rock, took in its heavy, watchful presence as the boat followed the river in a wide arc around its base.

“It must be the legend that lends it significance,” Loretta concluded. “Without that cachet, it doesn’t seem all that remarkable.”

At that moment, Julius looked out of the enclosed bridge and hailed them. “Come inside.” He beckoned. “Up here. The next section is dangerous.”

Keeping hold of the rail, they made their way quickly to the bridge. They climbed two steps to find Julius at the helm in the center, with two crewmen watching the river closely from the forward corners of the bridge.