Page 62 of To Love A Spy
Briars tore at her skirts as she bounced over the rough stones. Luckily, the ground leveled for a short stretch of grassy verge, and she was able to grab at the turf and arrest her fall. When finally she rolled to a stop, pain lanced through her bad leg, which was twisted under her weight.
“Madame!”
She tried to catch her breath and answer, but her bruised ribs protested even so slight a move.
Captain Gillemot was already scrambling down to where she lay. Lynsley followed but far more slowly.
“Mon Dieu, are you alright?” The officer knelt down and began chafing her hand. “Don’t try to move. We can fashion a litter?—”
“Don’t be absurd.” Lynsley cut him off with a curt laugh. “I’m sure she is fine. Just a little shaken up, isn’t that right, my dear?” He reached out and lifted her none too gently to her feet. “Come, and walk it off.”
She bit back a cry of pain. “Yes, of course.”
The captain looked appalled.
“Now that the initial shock has worn off, I am quite fine,” she assured him. Her face must have belied her words, for he shot the marquess a scathing look.
Both men helped her back up to path, where the rest of the group was milling in a state of shock.
“My poor dear!” exclaimed Madame Levalier.
“Let us go back immediately—” began her husband.
“We wouldn’t hear of it—would we, Valencia?” objected Lynsley. “There is no need to ruin the excursion for everyone.”
“No, of course not,” she said tightly, not meeting Lynsley’s gaze. Pain was shooting through her thigh. “It was clumsy of me. I will be just fine in a moment.”
He turned and started off again.
She followed, dragging her step.
“Do try to keep up,” he called from the crest of the rise.
The others were clearly disturbed by his unfeeling words. The ladies were now eying him with censorious looks, and from the men rose a few rumbled rebukes.
As if oblivious to the air of tension, Lynsley wheeled around and marched off.
Valencia forced a smile and waved the captain on as she passed a bench. “You go on with the others. I shall rest here and wait for your return, if you don’t mind.”
Chapter Fifteen
It was Rochambert who circled back some moments later and sat down beside her. “Allow me to keep you company.”
“It is really not necessary, she said through gritted teeth. “There are no wolves on the prowl in this park.”
“No.” He lit a cheroot and blew out a perfect ring of smoke. “Onlycochons, it would seem.”
“Thomas is not in the best of moods. His negotiations are not going as well as he planned, so I suppose that is why he is acting like a pig.”
“You seem to be taking it in stride.”
She bit back a laugh. “What choice does a wife have but to keep pace with her husband’s whims.”
Her companion eyed her through the scrim of smoke. “Yours is not a love match?”
Valencia exhaled sharply as she shifted against the slats. In her weakened state, she would have preferred not to engage the enemy. However, war allowed for no quarter.
“Oh, come, monsieur,” she replied, concentrating on duty rather than the stabbing fire in her thigh. “Surely you do not imagine that the reasons for matrimony in America are any different from those here in the Old World. Alliances amongthehaute monde—be they in a democracy or a monarchy—are usually based on money, influence and power, not some flutter of the heart.”
