His fingers closed over hers and stroked the knuckles. ‘And how are you? It must have been a terrible shock.’
His sympathy was enough to precipitate the tears she had been fighting for hours. Two large drops gathered and rolled down her cheeks and she hung her head to hide them.
‘I thought you wer
e going to be killed. And the knife in the postillion’s back and the blood… and those terrible men…’ She took a deep breath and asked, ‘Do you think I killed him?’
Nicholas didn’t answer. Instead he pulled her onto the bed beside him, gathered her against his good shoulder and held her until the tears dried. Gradually in the safety of his arms, Cassandra felt her tense body relax, her eyes felt heavy. Without conscious thought, she snuggled closer and let herself drift. Under her cheek, Nicholas’s breathing slowed and as she drifted off she realised that he too slept.
Chapter Twelve
She was woken. by a soft knock on the door. For a long moment, Cassandra could not remember where she was. She blinked and looked up to find her eyelashes almost grazing Nicholas’s unshaven chin. As she blinked up at him his eyes opened and the expression in them was like a slap.
‘Cassie? What on earth..?’
The knock came again as she scrambled off the bed, scarlet with confusion, avoiding Nicholas’s eyes as she pulled down her waistcoat.
‘Entrez!’ he called when she was a safe distance from the bed, but his voice carried less than its usual authority and Cassandra guessed he was as shaken as she at the position they had woken up in.
The door opened to reveal a little party assembled outside: the apothecary’s assistant with a package sealed with wax, a chambermaid with a tray full of food, a waiter equipped with cutlery and a cloth, and the patron to supervise all.
At least they provided some diversion. A glance at the clock on the mantel showed her that she had slept in Nicholas’s arms for over an hour and she had no notion of what she should say to him now.
By the time she had laid a tray on Nicholas’s knees, poured him a glass of wine and settled herself with chicken casserole, she had decided that the only thing to do was to play Cass the valet to the hilt. She must drive from his consciousness all awareness of Cassandra, the woman who had slept beside him in his embrace. She was honest enough to recognise that if he took her in his arms again, she would do nothing to stop whatever might follow and she wanted him to hold her so much…
‘You look much better,’ she said briskly, whipping away the tray and bringing him warm water and cloth. ‘I think you ought to go back to sleep again. I’ll leave you in peace and go and find out about the sea bathing.’
‘Cassie?’ He seemed bemused by the transformation from vulnerable femininity to brisk efficiency. ‘Is anything wrong?’
‘Wrong? Of course not.’ She shook out the starched tray cloth with a snap, not meeting his eyes. All she wanted to do was throw herself back into his arms and tell him… What? That it was the only place she felt content?
To her intense relief, Nicholas was up and about when she tapped on his door the next morning.
‘What about the salve?’ she asked, gathering up discarded clothing to avoid looking at him.
‘It’s all right, I put it on myself. Smells disgusting, so it must be doing some good.’
Cassandra could feel herself blushing with relief. Her sleep had been troubled by half dreams, half fantasies of rubbing the salve into Nicholas’s naked shoulder and what might follow afterwards. The thought of what Nicholas might assume if he realised how he preoccupied her was mortifying. Why, he might imagine her to have a tendre for him.
All it was, she told herself firmly, was the natural attraction of finding herself in the constant company of one of London’s most eligible men, a man who had offered her sanctuary and a means of escape when her world had been turned upside down. As soon as she reached Vienna, this allure, the dreams she had of him, would fade as other companions filled her life.
‘Should you be up?. She shook out a shirt, then folded it briskly.
‘Of course. I can’t lie in bed on a beautiful day like this. It would take more than a blow from a ruffian’s cudgel to keep me on my back. Now, here’s some money You go and do some shopping, buy what you like, some lace or some sweetmeats. I’ll see you here for dinner, I’m going to try the good doctor’s sea bathing.’
‘Shouldn’t I come?’ Cassandra asked without thinking.
Nicholas caught her eye and pointed to the window. ‘Lean out and to your left and you can just see the men’s bathing beach. I assume you didn’t go and look last night.’
‘No.’ Cassandra did as he said, then gasped with shock at the glimpse of bare flesh. ‘Nicholas! They have no clothes on.’
‘Then I suggest you stay well away from the shoreline, Cassie. In fact, take care where you wander if you do go out.’ The door banged shut, leaving Cassandra gaping after him.
Despite the money burning a hole in her pocket, Cassandra didn’t feel like mingling with the crowds. She headed away from the centre, climbing through the narrow streets past the close-packed stone houses to the ramparts crowning the town. Below her lay a vista of the sea to one side and, in the distance, white capped mountains. In between the land was full of fruit trees, already heavy with oranges, lemons and pomegranates and the hot air hummed with the song of cicadas.
Even the simplest house among the groves was neat and white painted, hung about with bougainvillea, roses and climbing vines. Cassandra wandered down into an olive grove, touching the ancient twisting trunks in wonderment. They seemed a thousand years old. She found a shady patch under an olive and sat watching the spear-shaped leaves trace patterns as they filtered the sunlight. Below her a goatherd was leaning on his staff and flirting with a dark-eyed girl who had brought him a dinner basket.
Cassandra leaned back against the gnarled trunk and closed her eyes. This was all she had ever wanted, to get away from home, to travel, to experience foreign ways and see strange sights. This place was idyllic, almost paradise, yet, like Eden, it had its serpent. Every time she closed her eyes, she could feel the heat of Nicholas’s body under her palms, feel his lips on hers, hear the warm strength of his voice caressing her. It was no use pretending to herself any longer: she was falling in love with him.