Page 21 of The Duke's Price
And he did so wish. He wished, in fact, to keep her in his life forever, which frightened him, so he kissed her to give himself something else to think about, and for a while, it worked.
6
They arrived in Narbonne an hour after noon. There, they left the driver. He would allow the team to rest for a couple of hours and then take them back to the previous staging post, to exchange them for the now rested team they left there, and would continue sapping teams until he took back to Carcassonne the horses Perry had purchased. Ah well. No doubt someone would benefit from them.
The driver’s fee was in a pouch, double what Perry had promised him. Perry handed it over. At their next big town, he would have to find time to sell another couple of gemstones. The driver weighed the pouch in his hands and peered inside. His eyes widened and he smiled. “A pleasure doing business with you, sir. Can I help you find a new driver to take you to… where was it?”
“Perpignan,” lied Perry, naming a town to the south, “and thank you. The ladies and I will stay here overnight—or perhaps in another inn if this one doesn’t please them.” He cast a supercilious glance at the busy innyard, curling his lip. “If you find someone, send them to me. I’ll tell the innkeeper here if we decide to take rooms elsewhere.”
The driver shrugged. “As you wish, sir.” He weighed the pouch again and walked away muttering, “Arrogant goddam.”
Perry followed to make sure he was occupied. Sure enough, he ordered a room, a meal, and a glass of wine. When he took a giggling barmaid onto his knee, Perry was satisfied that he’d not be checking up on Perry any time soon.
Fifteen minutes later, with a new team, this time hired, Perry was driving the carriage north east, having told the innkeeper he had just recalled some friends who lived on the coast to the south east, and intended to call on them and perhaps stay for a day or two.
He had thought to head to just outside of Beziers, where his friend lived, but as he drove around the Narbonne market place, a troupe of horses on the other side of the market changed his mind—or, rather, their leader did so.
It was Carlos. Perry was finding it harder and harder to read small print, but his long-distance vision was excellent, and Carlos had made no effort to disguise himself. He was wearing the gaudy purple uniform encrusted in gold piping that was his favourite, and he had just lifted his hat as he bowed to a lady who had caught his eye.
By contrast, Perry had changed his fashionable attire for workman’s trousers, heavy boots, and a driver’s jacket. Even if he drove straight past Carlos in his slouch hat—and he could, for he was well camouflaged—the man was unlikely to look at him. Common drivers were beneath Carlos’s notice.
There was a knock on the sliding panel that allowed those inside the carriage to communicate with the driver, and a moment later the panel slid open. “Perry, I just saw Carlos.”
“I see him too,” Perry said. “It is just as well that I changed, sweeting. Don’t worry. There’s no reason for them to look closely at us.”
The cart that had been holding them up moved a few feet forward, giving Perry room to pass. Perry touched his cap and nodded to the other driver, in acknowledgement. “Sit down for a minute, love. I’m just going to pass this cart and get us out of here.”
He focused on his team for a few minutes, but as they crossed the bridge over the Canal de la Robine on their way to the main road north, he cast a glance back over his shoulder at Carlos and his men. They were leaving in the opposite direction.
“Have they followed us?” Ruth asked from the communications panel.
“They didn’t notice us,” he assured her. “We won’t go far today, Ruth. Perhaps two villages on. Somewhere they wouldn’t expect us to stop. We’ll abandon the carriage and buy a couple of horses so we can leave the roads and go cross country. No. Three, for we’ll need one for our luggage.” Perhaps he should give her something positive to look forward to. “We’ll find a place to stop for the night, and tomorrow, we’ll ride to where my yacht is moored, and take it offshore until it is time to meet the canal boat.”
Tonight, he would take her fully, and after that as often as he could. Would coupling get her out of his system? He was afraid it would not, and then what was he supposed to do?
The word ‘wife’, which he’d spoken as a blithe lie for the last few days, hovered at the fringes of his mind, demanding to be acknowledged. Had it come to that? He had known so many women. What was different about this one?
Domestic scenes he’d observed played in his mind, with him and Ruth cast in the main roles. Was marriage to Ruth such a terrible idea?
Of course it was. She was a woman like any other, and he’d had hundreds. And yet, it seemed like blasphemy thinking of Ruth in the same moment as the hordes of wanton femaleswho’d fleetingly possessed his body, even more fleetingly his attention, and never his heart.
It is because I have not yet had her. Afterwards, I will tire of her as I have tired of all the others. As he had the thought, he knew he was lying to himself. He had never felt this way about anyone. Even Mathilda, back in the early days of his marriage when he was besotted with the bride his uncle had chosen for him.
Perry, my boy, you are in deep trouble. Best drop Miss Henwood to the nearest British consul and run. He wouldn’t, though. He had promised to take her and Bella to England and he would keep his promise. Yes, and take his price out of her lovely hide. Even if it destroyed him.
The day had beenlong and boring. At least leaving the driver behind in Narbonne meant that Perry was willing to stop along the road, far from human dwellings, to let her stretch her legs and use thebordeleauin some privacy and comfort.
Not in villages. In an excess of caution, as he himself put it, he insisted on her not showing herself when he stopped to change horses. Furthermore, at one village he called on a wheel wright. He bought a pot of paint and a brush, and turned outside of the village on a track into a small forest, where he stopped in a clearing to inexpertly paint the carriage door and the wheel hubs.
“We’ll have to wait until the paint is dry or all the dirt and dust of the road will stick to it,” Ruth observed.
For a moment, Perry looked flummoxed, then his devilish grin appeared. “I wonder what on earth we can do as while we wait?” he asked.
Ruth was torn near in two. On the one hand, each amorous encounter left her eager for more. On the other, they were already far past what her vicarage upbringing taught her was appropriate for people who did not intend to marry.
Indeed, as a child of the gentry, she was shocked at what they had already done, though she’d lived long enough to know that both the aristocracy and the common folk were relaxed about anticipating marital vows. A betrothal was, after all, very nearly a marriage.
Except Perry did not mean to marry her. Of course, he didn’t. She was not duchess material, nor young, nor particularly beautiful. That she even thought of marriage was witness to how far she had fallen, and she had no doubt at all she would fall all the way, and gladly.
