Helen Dickson Read Online Free PDF Page B

don’t harbour an aversion to being alone with me for such a lengthy period,’ he said, taking her hand to assist her into the coach.
    ‘Why should I?’ Maria enquired quizzically, pausing with her foot on the step to look at him. ‘Unless, of course, you are a rogue at heart.’
    ‘I may well be,’ Charles acknowledged, lifting to his lips the slender fingers of his assumed wife, letting his warm, moist mouth linger on her knuckles in a slow, sensual caress.
    Maria became aware of a strange quivering in the pit of her body and realised her breath was being snatched inwards when his lips came into contact with her skin. Sliding her hand from his, she lifted her skirts to step aboard and immediately felt her companion’s hand beneath her elbow aiding her ascent. She settled herself on the seat while striving to control her composure.
    His eyes danced teasingly up into hers, his lips curved into a smile. ‘You could be in danger. You are by far the most enticing female I have seen in a long time.’
    As Maria listened to the warm and mellow tone of his voice, and her gaze lit upon that handsomely chiselled visage, her eyes were drawn into the snare, and for a moment she found herself susceptible to the appeal of that wondrous smile. She glanced at him reflectively, wondering if she should read anything into his statement, and raised her brows meaningfully.
    ‘Perhaps I should warn you that if warranted, I am not above defending myself.’
    Charles had the feeling that what she said was true—and her intended slap the day before proved that. He laughed to ease her fears, while his glowing eyes delved into hers. ‘I am sure you could do so admirably, so be confident of my good intentions. I shall take care to treat you as I would a wife—with the utmost respect.’
    Maria cast an apprehensive eye toward him as he climbed in, but much to her relief, he settled across from her. As he caught her gaze, he grinned.
    ‘I fear the nearness of you would completely destroy my good intentions. It is safer if I sit here.’
    Maria relaxed back in the seat. She could only hope that his restraint would continue and her resistance would not be tested.
    The carriage was discreet, with no outward signs of wealth beyond a pair of post horses. The driver, Pierre Lamont, who knew them by their assumed names and had been paid an enormous amount of money to drive them to Calais, clicked his tongue as the whip curved gracefully through the air and the conveyance lurched into motion. When they had passed from the cobbled inn yard, the long journey back to Gravely had begun.
    Maria had left Chateau Feroc without regret. However, despite the cold reserve with which her aunt and Constance had always treated her, she did feel a slight pang of remorse. Even at the last minute her aunt had refused to give way to sentiment and embrace her, but Maria was surprised to see how much distress Constance displayed.
    Constance did embrace her, her eyes in her white facewide and full of tears. Maria felt her tremble as she clung to her. It was only then that she realised how afraid her cousin was of remaining at the chateau and that she secretly wished she was leaving for England with Maria.
    In that one brief moment Maria saw Constance not as the self-obsessed cousin, whose sole interest lay in her pretty face and her ability to attract the sons of the nobility as well-to-do as themselves, but as a young girl frightened for her life. Maria had held her, surprised to feel her own throat constrict with pain and tears brimming in her eyes.
    ‘I wish I was going with you,’ Constance had whispered earnestly, ‘but Mama won’t hear of it.’
    ‘Then defy your mother, Constance.’
    ‘I cannot. I could not go unless she came too.’
    ‘I wish you were coming with me,’ Maria had replied with heartfelt understanding. ‘If you can persuade her and you manage to get out of France, you must come to me at Gravely. Do you promise?’
    With tears running