from her hair, the brush of her body against his. He clamped his mouth shut. There was nothing more to be said between them.
Thus a tension-filled, uncomfortable journey, until they reached the long drive to the Pride and Zan turned the mare in.
This was no good, Marie-Claude decided, trying to clear her thoughts. Did the baffling Mr Alexander Ellerdine intend to deposit her at the door without another word? Not if she had any influence on the outcome.
‘Do you know Harriette and Luke well?’ she asked against the wall of his silence, lifting her chin so she could see his face.
‘Once I did.’ His eyes were grimly fixed on the approaching house. ‘But no longer. We’re not on visiting terms.’
‘Why not?’
‘It’s of no consequence.’
In other words, it’s not your concern. Marie-Claude frowned as silence once more shrouded them. As she had suspected, when they arrived at the front sweep of steps, he swiftly dismounted, beckoned for her to slide down into his arms. Immediately he placed her on her feet on the bottom step. Returned her boots, her stockings into her hands. And without one word of ackowledgement or farewell turned away to remount.
Marie-Claude felt a return of her temper. Was he not going to explain? She would force him to explain!
‘Will you not come in?’ she invited with edged sweetness. A provocative lift of her brows, already knowing the reply. If he could taunt, so could she. ‘Some refreshment, perhaps, after all your efforts on my behalf?’
He looked back over his shoulder, his reins tight in his fist. ‘No.’
‘And are you usually so ill mannered, Mr Ellerdine?’
‘Not ill mannered, Madame Mermaid. Merely mistaken.’
‘So you have decided you have not known me all your life after all.’
‘Yes. So it seems.’
A cold whip of words. It was like fighting through an impenetrable mist. ‘How capricious you have turned out to be, sir,’ she observed, an intense regret cutting through her anger. And watched, startled, as her rebuke caused colour to slash across Zan’s splendid cheekbones.
‘Is Meggie here?’ he demanded unexpectedly, facing her again.
‘Yes. Why?’
‘Tell Meggie what happened on the beach. She’ll take care of you. Doubtless she’ll tell you what you need to know about me—and take pleasure in doing so. Don’t tell her you spent time in the Silver Boat with me, unchaperoned. And for God’s sake don’t tell her that I forced my attentions on you. It would be better for you if you did not.’
‘Why should I not tell her? Besides, you didn’t force yourself on me. As I recall, I enjoyed the experience as much as you did. As I thought you did!’
‘Then you were as mistaken as I was.’ And what a flat rebuttal that was; it robbed Marie-Claude of all speech for a moment. ‘A word of advice, Madame Mermaid. You’re far too innocent for your own good.’ The edge in his voice was as keen as hammered steel. ‘You should beware of believing what rakes and libertines in inn parlours tell you. They prey on the innocent and you were the perfect peach, ripe to fall into my hand. You were fortunate not to be further compromised.’
How unfair! How appallingly unfair! ‘I did not choose to be in the inn parlour with you. You took me there, if you recall. And as for innocent! If you know anything of my past, as you seem to do, you would know that I am far from innocent and inexperienced in my knowledge of the evil that can drive some men. I didn’t think you were a man without honour.’
‘Then you lack judgement. You have no idea what sort of man I am.’
Marie-Claude’s eyes flashed fire, her brows rose. It was impossible to believe that he could be so insulting, so deliberately wounding. Something had driven him into this fast retreat, this deliberate attack. Seeing a possible advantage, she pressed on to make the most of it. ‘You didn’t answer my question. Why should I not tell Meggie?’
Zan sneered. ‘I wouldn’t want to ruin your impeccable reputation, would I? If you value your good name, you’ll keep your tongue between your pretty teeth.’
He had already turned back to his mare, gathering the reins. Marie-Claude made a last attempt to restore some normality to this situation, clutching at a final hope. ‘Zan…I don’t know why you would deny what was between us. Or lash at me with temper. Let me thank you—’
‘No! I’ll let you do nothing of the sort. Have you not been listening to me? Just forget the whole incident. It will be better for you if you do. As for my denial, put it down to indifference. You entertained me for a bare hour—nothing more.’ His mouth twisted.
As Marie-Claude’s eyes widened at this final unbridled, unforgivable slight, with one long stride, Zan dropped the reins and was back to swoop and pinion her. Hands firmly cupping her shoulders, he pulled her hard against him. ‘Or perhaps, in honesty, a little longer than an hour. No man could overlook or forget the sweetness of your kisses.’ His mouth devoured hers, his tongue owned, a scrape of teeth along her soft lips. Yet even as she resisted the assault, the sheer insolence of him, her senses absorbed the thrill.
Zan thrust her away.
‘Farewell, Madame Mermaid.’
Without a backwards look he swung up, let the mare quicken and stretch into a full gallop across the parkland, out of her line of sight.
Zan concentrated on putting as much distance between himself and Lydyard’s Pride in the shortest possible time. As if he could erase the memory of the woman who still stood on the steps and looked after him. He knew exactly who his mermaid was.
Marie-Claude de la Roche—he’d forgotten her name, if he ever knew it. He supposed he’d never heard it mentioned in his hearing. There was no reason why it should have been in the circumstances. He had become persona non grata in the Hallaston household after that night. He’d heard later of her existence, of course, from George Gadie, who knew all the Hallaston affairs. French, married to Captain Marcus Hallaston and widowed, cast adrift in Spain with a child, taken under the unscrupulous wing of some French rogue—called Jean-Jacques Noir, was it?—who had held her to ransom to bleed Luke Hallaston, the Earl of Venmore, dry in return for her safety. Threatened to use her as a whore in one of the military towns if the tale ran true. And she had been rescued by Venmore and Harriette in that eventful run to the French coast, bringing her back along with the barrels and bales of contraband.
Oh, yes. He recalled that night, right enough. The night that had brought an unmendable rift with his cousin Harriette. The night when he had been accused and found guilty, albeit without trial, of treachery, wrecking and attempted murder.
He knew the widow had been rescued, but had never met her, nor she him. She did not even recognise his name. Obviously no one had ever spoken the name Zan Ellerdine in the Hallaston household from that day to this. He tightened his hands on the reins to bring the mare back into a more controlled canter. Alexander Ellerdine no longer existed in that august circle.
In the circumstances, he could hardly blame the noble Earl and his family, could he?
Well,
