Passion and Pride (A Historical Romance) (32 page)

“Wait right where you are, darling. Just… wait,” she said seductively – and loudly.

I hope Blake realizes that is meant for him and not Villars.

Villars looked confused.

Marian got up from the bed and walked slowly over to Villars.

With the first step, she pulled the wide neck of her shift down over her shoulders, laying them bare.

With each successive step, she let the shift drop lower and lower – exposing her breasts, her stomach, and finally every inch of her body as she stood naked before the Lieutenant.

His eyes were both shocked and on fire as they greedily drank her in.

She lifted her fingers to his face and caressed his cheek.

He swept his arms around her and crushed his lips to hers.

The man was a brute, and relied purely on force. He had no finesse, no slow build-up, no sensuality – he was a rampaging bull as his tongue forced its way between her lips.

Though her impulse was to clamp her jaws shut, she instead opened her mouth and closed her mind to the disgust and fear she felt.

After a moment of him manhandling her breasts, she broke off the kiss and stepped back.

“We really must get you out of this,” she purred.

She began to unbutton his clothes. He helped, as fast as he possibly could. This was no sensual bout of foreplay – it was a race to strip naked. No soldier ever got dressed for a surprise inspection as fast as Villars peeled off his uniform.

He shucked off his jacket, his belt with his sword, his boots, his pants, his shirt. Finally he stood before her, naked and ready.

Despite the fact that she loathed Villars, she noted with detachment that he was handsome with his clothes off. A lean frame, wiry muscles, smooth skin without a mark on it. No slashes from duels like Evan, no scars from bullets on the field of battle. His erect manhood was of average size, nice but nothing spectacular, though it strained like a wild horse at its bridle.

Then he grabbed her left breast so hard she felt it would bruise. He forced his mouth to hers and continued the mauling.

Finally she broke away.

“On the bed… let us get on the bed,” she said, and pulled him over to the alcove.

Villars could not believe his luck.

He had been working for weeks to ingratiate himself to her – which offended his masculine pride, but he had decided she was a prize worth conquering.

And now events had placed her squarely in the palm of his hand.

He was sure she was hiding something. Most probably she wanted to protect Blake. Despite her little story about a fight the previous night, the man who had left her apartment had been disheveled, his clothes out of place, like he had hurriedly dressed. He had looked disheartened, not enraged. Villars had seen it all with his own eyes.

Although… it didn’t quite make sense. She was right, soldiers waiting
inside
the apartment would have a much better chance of surprising the Englishman if he returned. Why would she suggest that if she wanted Blake to escape?

Maybe, after weeks of playing the coquette, she had finally given in to her true desires. He
was
the most desirable man in all of the National Guard, after all. There was no more handsome, more dashing lieutenant in Paris.

Even if this
was
some sort of ruse, he would still have her. He would possess her.

He would make the bitch scream.

And then, once it was over, he would catch the Englishman and deliver him to the guillotine, and perhaps in the bargain find evidence he could hold over her head so that she would continue to be his lover, whether she wanted to or not.

Not that he needed to use blackmail. After tonight, she would be his, no matter what.

And she
was
delectable. Her body in the candlelight was quite beautiful.

He drew her to him and kissed her passionately. He invaded her, penetrated her with his tongue, as he would soon do with his massive manhood.

He would take what he wanted, as he always did.

She broke away from him, playing coy once again.

“On the bed… let us get on the bed,” she gasped, and pulled him over to the mattresses, which were set within an alcove in the wall.

He let her lead him, but then he pushed her roughly down on the sheets.

She must understand who was in control here.

He got on top of her and positioned himself over her body –

– but the little slut kept her legs closed.

He put one hand on her thigh and pulled so violently that she cried out. But still she kept her legs pressed tight together.

Villars began to get angry.
Ah, so it’s going to be like this, eh?

She stared up at him, her face full of fear.

Villars was filled with dark joy at the things he would do to her.

“My love, if you are going to do something, now would be the time,” she said, her voice loud and clear.

Villars frowned and paused.

What the hell is she talking about?

Suddenly, like a phantom in a nightmare, half of a body rose up from between the mattress and the wall.

Villars had time only to look over in surprise as an arm came swinging down, with something in its grasp –

There was a flash of light somewhere behind his eyes – then darkness and oblivion.

Evan steadied himself against the mattress with one hand. With the other, he held his dueling pistol like a club.

Villars’ unconscious form lolled atop Marian, the gash in his temple already beginning to bleed.

“Ugh!” she cried out, and with all her strength rolled the lieutenant’s naked body off hers. They were already so close to the edge that Villars went over the side of the bed and thudded to the ground like a sack of flour.

“That was an interesting plan,” Evan said as he pulled his lower half, sweating and cramped, from the tight confines of the mattress.

“It worked, didn’t it?” Marian asked angrily as she stepped out of bed and over Villars’ body.

“I thought you might be enjoying yourself too much,” Evan said. Though he tried to say it with levity, his voice betrayed his jealousy at what he had just witnessed.

“That’s not funny,” Marian snarled as she retrieved her shift from the floor and pulled it over her head.

Evan had one glimpse of her exquisite breasts and lovely form before the garment dropped into place.

“He didn’t… you didn’t let him… inside you…” he stuttered.

Her face contorted with disgust. “Of course not!”

Immediately Evan felt a hundred times better.

He crawled across the bed and stood, looking down at Villars sprawled across the hardwood floor. His head wound was bleeding more freely now.

Evan glanced down at Villars’ crotch and noted his size with a certain relief.

Marian saw him do it. “Ugh,
men.
Are you that insecure?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Evan said haughtily.

She just rolled her eyes.

“It’s not every day a man catches the woman he loves in bed with another man,” he teased.

At his use of the word ‘love,’ her whole face and demeanor softened. Then she scowled playfully. “To save
you
.”

“Duly noted. What’s the plan now?”

“Everything you suggested earlier, before the soldiers came.”

Evan’s face clouded. “I know Villars doesn’t have any soldiers stationed outside, but that could still be incredibly dangerous – ”

She interrupted him by holding up Villars’ discarded blue jacket. “I thought you might be able to use this.”

Evan slowly broke into a grin. “That was your plan all along?”

“Of course. Well, that, and to get his men out of here.”

“You have a genius for this.”

She curtsied playfully. “I
am
a writer renowned for ingenious plot twists. But perhaps you should tie up our dear Lt. Villars before he wakes up.”

“Ah – good point.”

“I’ll be back, I need to get the dress from Francoise.”

“Why didn’t you leave it here?”

“A maid’s dress in a rich woman’s closet? Now, that wouldn’t have been suspicious to the soldiers at all, would it have?” she asked, then flitted out of the room.

While she was gone, Evan struggled to get the lieutenant’s body into a wooden chair he took from the corner of the room. After that he pulled down the curtains, shredded them, and tied Villars to the chair with the scraps – binding his wrists to the wooden arms of the chair, and his ankles to the wooden legs. Finally he gagged him, and then, in an act of pity, wrapped his head to bind the wound. Throughout it all, Villars never stirred, though he was still breathing, Evan noted with relief. He despised the man, but he did not want his death on his hands.

Evan was pulling off his own clothes when Marian came back carrying the grey dress and a sack made of tied cloth.

“Very nice,” she said, giving an approving glance as Evan stood there naked.

Her eyes upon his naked form made his manhood stir, even despite the danger they were in.

“I thought you said only a man would think about ‘that’ in a time like this.”

“We’re not in quite the same amount of danger. Why, are you complaining?”

Evan grinned. “No,” he said as he pulled on Villars’ pants. “What took you so long?”

“I gave Francoise payment for a year, and gathered the food and drink,” Marian said, holding up the cloth sack.

“What will she do? With
him
in the apartment, I mean,” Evan said, gesturing towards Villars’ slumped body.

“I offered to let her join us – ”

“You what?!”

“What did you expect me to do?” Marian scowled. “But she refused. She has nowhere else to go outside of Paris, and she is terrified of getting caught if she comes with us.”

“Oh,” Evan said, slightly embarrassed at his unchivalrous attitude towards the maid.

“I told her to wait in her room until first light, and then leave.”

“Does she know about Villars?”

“She asked. I told her it was better not to know.” Marian gazed worriedly at Villars tied to the chair, his head slumped forward. “If we… if he weren’t… alive anymore…”

Evan looked at the man, helpless, bound, and unconscious.

It would be the smart thing to do, but…

“I can’t,” he said. “He’s unarmed, helpless… it would be murder. I can’t.”

She breathed out, relieved, and nodded. Then she began to put on the maid’s simple garments.

Evan finished dressing in Villars’ clothes. He buckled the sword belt and pulled out the weapon. It had been a while since he had held a blade in his hand, but it felt good.

He sheathed the sword and put on Villar’s blue dress jacket. He patted the pockets, feeling for anything important – and heard the crinkle of paper.

He drew out a paper from the inside breast pocket and read it in the candlelight.

“My God,” he whispered.

“What?” Marian asked as she arranged her hair hurriedly beneath a bonnet.

He handed the paper over with a laugh. Marian read it and gasped, putting a hand to her mouth. “Is this what I think it is?”

“A free pass to cross any barrier in France, signed by our helpful Lt. Villars? I believe so. This is impossibly good fortune.”

She laughed and circled his neck with her arms. “We could go directly through the gates of Paris with this!”

“No,” Evan cautioned. “There’s no good reason for a Guardsman to leave Paris tonight, especially while escorting a woman. Let’s just go to the break in the wall and use the papers outside Paris if we need them.”

“All right,” she agreed, and kissed him happily.

“Do you have everything?” he asked. “Money?”

“A little. Not much.”

“I have enough. The bread and water is in the sack?”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s go.”

They walked out of the bedroom, across the apartment, and opened the front door carefully. They waited a moment for any noise from the dark corridor, but there was only silence.

As soon as they crossed the threshold, though, Marian gasped.

“What? What is it?” Evan whispered anxiously.

“Hold on,” she said, and darted back inside the apartment.

There was the sound of a wooden drawer being opened. She returned within half a minute.

“I forgot something,” she whispered.

“Something important, I hope, to give me a heart attack like that,” Evan scowled.

“Very,” she said, and they crept down the stairs into the darkness.

Villars came to gradually. His skull felt as though someone were continually striking him with a wooden hammer.

He heard low voices speaking only a few feet away.

He froze – and then realized it was impossible to move anyway. His wrists were tied to the arms of the chair, and his legs seemed similarly bound. There was a gag in his mouth; the slightly dusty taste of cloth made him want to gag, but he controlled himself.

And he was naked, he realized with alarm.

He tried to recall the last thing that had happened.

He was on top of that whore… and then the arm came out of nowhere, like something out of a child’s ghost story…

“My God,” said a man’s voice.

The Englishman!

Did he arrive while I was unconscious?

Or was he here all along, hidden?

Was it he who attacked me?

“What?”

Marian’s voice.

It all made sense now.

She had lured him – Villars – to the bed, and the Englishman had tried to kill him from his hiding place.

Villars burned with searing hatred for them both. Nevertheless, he remained motionless, biding his time and listening, his head still hanging on his chest.

“Is this what I think it is?” Marian’s voice asked.

There was a crinkle of paper.

“A free pass to cross any barrier in France, signed by our helpful Lt. Villars? I believe so. This is impossibly good fortune,” the Englishman answered.

Villars almost opened his eyes, he was so shocked.