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‘No, they had thought of that, apparentl
y. I’ll see what I can find of mine that won’t be noticeable,’ he said, thankful for an excuse to leave Elinor alone with her mother for a few moments. She was probably desperate to cry on her shoulder.
He was back in the room only minutes later to find that, far from weeping in a maternal embrace, Elinor was briskly packing a small valise. ‘They’ve been in my room, as they said they would,’ he announced tersely. ‘There’s a valise gone, drawers pulled out—it looks as though I packed in a hurry. Yours—unless Jeanie left it in a mess—is in the same state.’
‘They may be wicked,’ Elinor remarked, ‘but they are not stupid. Have you found anything you can bring?’
‘Here.’ He handed her a rolled shirt with his spare razor inside. ‘If I take a valise now, they may spot it. I’ll buy more as we go. By some miracle they didn’t find my money.’ She took the things, pushed them into her bag and snapped it shut.
‘Mama?’
‘I find myself more diverted than I have in many a year,’ Lady James remarked. ‘Now, look after Theo—he appears to be managing very well, but one can never tell with men—and do not worry about my researches. I will pretend to set out for Paris, then double back once I am sure I am not being followed. I shall go down to Avignon—you may meet me there.’
‘Of course, Mama. We can always complete the Burgundian work later,’ Elinor agreed colourlessly.
‘Come on, Nell.’ He picked up the valise. ‘We haven’t much time before the servants will be up.’
‘Yes, of course. Goodbye, Mama.’ She kissed her mother and followed him out, into the unknown. No, he thought, sending a penetrating glance sideways at her face as they slipped through the trees down to the stables, she hadn’t reached the limits of her courage and endurance. She will keep going as long as I ask it of her. The realisation left him strangely shaken—what would it be like to be loved by this woman?
Chapter Sixteen
Elinor sat in the jolting coach while Theo washed and dressed her raw wrists. He had dismissed her protests that his were worse and should take priority with a curt, ‘Do as you are told’, and for once she found she had no will to argue back. It was taking all her strength to stay awake and upright and she had to manage that, at least to tend to his wounds in her turn.
She should be feeling relieved that they were alive, that they had a plan and were heading for safety, but all she could feel was wave after wave of paralysing horror at what they had escaped. If Theo had been less resourceful, less strong, less…Theo, they would be in the dark by now, the candles gone, facing the prospect of dying together. Theo had sounded full of confidence, but they had both known what would have happened if Hythe and Mama had not found them in time.
Would she have told him then that she loved him? Probably not—it would only have added another burden to his shoulders for the sake of indulging herself.
She would have died never knowing what it was like to lie with a man, to show him with her body how much she loved him, to learn passion and tenderness from him. She would have died a virgin and Theo would have been lost to her for ever. Hazily she wondered if she had been given a second chance.
‘Nell,’ he said gently. ‘You can lie down now.’
‘No, I will bandage your wrists.’ She forced her eyes open and reached for the basin with the stained water that was slopping around on the carriage seat.
‘Nell—’
‘No! Stop fussing. Just let me…’ She dragged down a steadying breath and controlled the urge to babble of her terror. ‘Just let me do this.’ In the face of her outburst he was silent, holding out his hands for her to clean the dirty, raw scrapes and wrap the bandage around each wrist. ‘There,’ she said, tying the last knot. ‘That’s done.’
The carriage seemed to be swaying wildly, the lamps on their gimbals were fading, surely? And she was falling. ‘Nell, my love,’ said a voice gently and then everything faded and was gone.
Elinor woke to broad daylight, to even wilder swaying. ‘Theo?’ She was alone in a small carriage, wrapped up in a rug on the upholstered seat. Sitting up was an agony of bruises, stiff joints and, when she knocked her wrist, sharp pain. Doggedly she unwrapped herself from the rug, pushed her hair back from her face and made herself remember. It had not been a nightmare, then. But where was Theo?
The window let down on a strap. Elinor leaned out precariously and caught a glimpse of him up on the box, the reins of a pair in his hand. He looked relaxed, happy almost. ‘Theo!’
He reined in and jumped down. ‘You’re awake—about time, Miss Ravenhurst, I thought you were going to sleep the clock round.’
‘You said were going to hire a chaise—I thought you meant one with postillions. And where did you get those clothes?’ He was dressed in a drab frieze coat and a rather battered hat.
‘They’re Hythe’s. I thought it would attract less attention hiring just a chaise with no men. We couldn’t wake you up—are you all right?’
‘I’m fine. I think,’ she added, trying a few experimental stretches. ‘Are you?’
‘Sore,’ he admitted with a wry grimace. ‘And I’ll be glad to sleep tonight. But I’ll live.’
‘What time is it?’ Elinor took the opportunity to study Theo as he dug his pocket watch out and checked it. He had said something as she had slipped into sleep, something that touched the edge of her consciousness, but which now she couldn’t quite reach out and grasp. She wanted to hold him, hold on to him, needing comfort and wondering if he, too, felt the same hideous twist of fear when he remembered what might have happened. But you could not ask a man if he felt fear, and he would never admit it if he did.
When he looked up she saw there were dark smudges under the clear green eyes and the lines either side of his mouth were deeper. He looked older, harder and somehow different.
‘It is half past two,’ he said, pushing the watch back into the fob pocket. ‘We’ll stop at the next reasonable inn and get something to eat.’
