If only you would let down your guard. You might even see me standing right in front of you.
He cleared his throat, and the spell was broken. “I need to go and inform the captain and crew of my yacht that I am safe. If I don’t, they will think something has happened and sail on to Binic.”
“Why would they do that? What is at Binic?”
The seaport of Binic was some eight miles farther west along the coast. It was a pretty fishing village, but she couldn’t understand why they would move the yacht there.
“The men who sailed with me last night were not exactly leaping up and down with joy at the news of making this trip. I had to make certain undertakings about their protection in order to get them to come. Because it is far enough away from here, Binic offers a degree of safety for both them and the boat,” he replied.
His words pulled her up sharp. Few of his crew had been willing to make the trip.
So much for reinforcements.
“Did you bring any of the other members of the RR Coaching Company with you?” she ventured.
She had been hoping that Sir Stephen Moore or at least George Hawkins would be waiting on board theNight Wind. The more of the rogues of the road she could press into service, the better. They were men her uncle trusted. People he might actually be inclined to listen to, and who could stop him from launching into whatever crazy scheme he had in mind.
Gus shook his head. “Just me I am afraid. Stephen’s wife, Bridget, is with child, and she has already been widowed once. George’s wife would nail his foot to the floor if he so much as took a step in the direction of France. Harry’s wife is due to deliver their first child any day. And Monsale has a date with Madame Guillotine if he ever dares to set foot in this country again.”
“Which leaves only you.” There was no point in trying to hide her disappointment—it was evident in her voice. She had prayed for an army and got one soldier. Gus was a warrior, but he couldn’t fight the whole of Vincent’s army on his own.
Gus glanced at the path which led down the hill and back to the jetty. “Let me go and speak to Captain Grey. I won’t be long.”
As he walked away, Evangeline chided herself. “He has risked his life in coming here, and you greeted him with scant regard.”
After such a poor reward for his efforts, she wouldn’t be the least surprised if Gus got back on his boat and returned to England. She wasn’t worthy of his bravery.
Chapter Six
After spending a good half-hour arguing with the crew of theNight Windas to whether it was prudent or not for them to venture into Saint-Brieuc and pay their respects to the women of the local taverns, a frustrated Gus headed back up the hill.
“What happened to being afraid for your lives? Too busy thinking with your cocks and not your heads,” he grumbled.
His temper was further stretched to its limits when he returned to the château. Armand La Roche had still not returned. There was little Gus could do until he had spoken to the man.
Evangeline was wrapped up in a thick woolen shawl as she stepped out of the main house. Gus who had been about to enter the foyer, moved to one side to let her pass.
“When do you expect Armand to return?” he asked.
Evangeline shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. As I have explained, he doesn’t tell me anything anymore. There are men coming and going in the courtyard all the time. Carts delivering crates at odd hours of the day.”
He nodded at her shawl. “Where are you off to?”
“For a walk. I need some sea air to clear my head,” she replied, fatigue evident in her voice.
He was tempted to go back to the boat, then thought better of the idea. “Let me come with you.”
Evangeline marched all the way to the center of the courtyard then turned to face the house. A bemused Gus followed suit.
Château-de-La-Roche wasn’t a grand structure such as the magnificent châteaux of the Loire valley, instead it was closer in architectural design to a large English manor house. Some twenty or so rooms were shared over three levels. He appreciated its simple design.
The eastern wing of the château had been constructed at a ninety-degree angle to the western side, with the spiked turret at the intersection of the two wings. It was a clever piece of architecture, which afforded protection to the courtyard from the strong winds which blew in from the English Channel.
Evangeline pointed to the metal griffin perched high on the top of the spike, where it acted as a weathervane. “Did you know that my late father once climbed all the way up there in the middle of a storm? The servants were too frightened, but he was determined to stop the griffin from falling.”
She spun on her heel and pointed in the direction of the kitchen garden.
“After the revolutionary committee for the protection of the French Republic took this place from us, we were made to go and live in a tiny cottage in Saint-Brieuc. When they finally abandoned this place, and we were allowed to return, my mother and I spent endless hours restoring the herb garden.”
