Evangeline climbed into bed, still dressed in her gown, and threw the blanket over herself. Gus made use of a clean bowl of water, washing his face, checking his saddlebags, and generally delaying the moment when he would have to lay beside her.
He wasn’t used to sharing a bed with a woman without the both of them being naked. This was strange.
Clad only in his shirt and trousers, he lifted the blanket and settled in next to Evangeline. She rolled over and faced him. “This is a small bed. I must warn you I like to sleep on this side. I hope that won’t disturb you.”
The thought of watching her while she slept was all too tempting. If he did, there was every chance that his mind would take to wandering again. To those places where he indulged in his secret fantasies of her.
His manhood twitched its approval.
Gus moved to lay on his back. If his wound didn’t give him such pain and trouble, he would have turned fully over and faced the window. Staring up at the low whitewashed ceiling was the best he could manage.
Evangeline moved closer, snuggling against him. When she draped an arm over his waist, Gus closed his eyes. The scent of soap and the trace of her light, floral perfume filled his senses.
“Thank you for not being angry with me over what I did to Vincent’s camp. Or if you are mad, I am grateful that you didn’t yell at me. What I did was reckless. It may yet get us both killed. If it does, I just want you to know how sorry I am.”
With her being this close, Gus was struggling to breathe, let alone talk. His burgeoning erection was making its demands loud and clear in his head. If Evangeline’s hand moved just an inch or two lower on his stomach, he might have some serious explaining to do.
With a tired sigh, Gus wrapped his fingers around hers and shifted them higher. “It’s done. Try and get some sleep. We can talk in the morning.”
He gritted his teeth and began to mentally count brandy bottles.
Un. Deux. Trois.
It was going to be a long night.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Let me see if I have this correct. After we leave Dinan this morning, we take the road leading northwest which passes through Plancoët, then turn west, eventually coming out onto the main Saint-Brieuc coastal road on the other side of Lamballe?”
Evangeline nodded. “And for that last piece of the journey we ride at night doing our best to avoid meeting anyone.”
The decision had been made. If they wanted to live, Paris was not an option. They would turn round and make a run for the coast.
If they could make it safely as far as the outskirts of Saint-Brieuc, they would bypass the town as best as possible, then strike fast for Binic. Hopefully, theNight Windwould still be in port, waiting for them.
And if Evangeline had chosen the path Gus hoped she would, they would both be getting on board the yacht and sailing for England.
“There is one thing we haven’t discussed,” she added.
Gus had been dreading this, praying that Evangeline wouldn’t ask it of him. “Armand. You want to go and visit him at the cathedral in Saint-Brieuc. Is that what you were going to say?”
Evangeline picked at her small breakfast roll, breaking off a piece. She studied it for a moment. “I owe it to him to at least say goodbye.”
Armand had taken care of his niece since the untimely deaths of both her parents during a typhus outbreak one terrible winter. He could understand her position.
But he also appreciated the danger that might well put them both in. Vincent Marec would no doubt find out where Armand’s body had been taken and have eyes watching the cathedral. They couldn’t risk it.
There has to be a way for us to pay homage to him before we leave.
“Then again, he would be most displeased with me if I managed to get us both killed simply because I wanted to see his casket,” she said.
Gus held back his words, not wishing to push her in any direction. If he said no, Evangeline might well hold it against him at a later juncture. And if he said yes, and they did get caught by the Lamballe gang, he doubted he would be able to save them.
A lot rested on her decision.
“Much as I want to say a fond farewell to Armand, it would be unwise of us to go to the Cathédrale Saint-Étienne. I have already done one foolish thing this week, let’s not add to that tally.”
Gus could have wept with relief.
