how gullible do you think I am, Duval?’
‘What happened in Paris was unavoidable, in the circumstances.’
‘What happened was indefensible, in the circumstances.’
His gaze locked with hers. ‘I’m not going to pretend I didn’t want you, Claudine. What red-blooded man would not?’ He made a vague gesture with his hand. ‘Nevertheless, I never intended things to go so far. It’s just that I got somewhat carried away by your charms. If you were offended then I apologise.’
There were so many things she could have said in reply, but none of them would have sounded in the least convincing. It horrified her now to think how close she had come to disaster with this man; a man who clearly regarded her as a whore. Gathering every last shred of self-control she faced him.
‘The situation that occurred in Paris was unfortunate. I wish it had never happened, but the past cannot be changed. All I want is to forget it.’
He winced inwardly. ‘In that case I will do nothing that might cause you to remember.’
She nodded. ‘Thank you.’
He made no reply but turned away towards the window instead. It was an unstudied gesture but it unwittingly presented the unmarred side of his face. Claudine caught her breath. His profile was as strong and clear as a piece of marble statuary. The thought of Apollo returned unbidden. As she stared the buried memory stirred again. This had nothing to do with Paris. It was much older; a memory of another face in another place and time. Her heart beat a little faster in response. Who? Where? When? She frowned, trying to grasp the information, but, as before, it slid away from her leaving in its wake a sense of vague disquiet.
Chapter Four
The conversation had given Duval a great deal to think about over the next few days, not least the matter of his private life. It was a confounded mess but, much as he dreaded the thought, fate was dragging him back to England and he was going to have to address it. Could he return after so long an absence and expect to assume the mantle of husband? The law said he could. Legally his wife belonged to him still. He could compel her to live with him if he chose; could compel her to share his bed, bear his children and obey his every command. Legally his power was absolute.
In reality, he had no idea what he was going to do about the situation, only that he did have a responsibility. At the very least he must ascertain that his wife was still well and ensure that his financial obligations were being met. More than that, they needed to have a serious discussion. He had no more wish to live with her than she with him. It was entirely possible that she had found consolation elsewhere; that she might ask for an annulment. Then they would both be free to move on with their lives. And if he were free, what then? Involuntarily he glanced at his companion and sighed inwardly. Before he could put his life in order he had first to fulfil his present obligation to Claudine. After that they would go their separate ways and he would be able to concentrate unhindered on the problem of his future. He might have resumed his career in the army had not Napoleon been sent to Elba. As it was, thousands of British soldiers had been demobilised so that door was closed. Although it was far from ideal, espionage looked to be the only other option at present. There were loose ends to tie up as well, and he couldn’t do that now until he’d dealt with personal matters.
It was therefore with considerable relief that he caught his first glimpse of the sea. The distant expanse of grey-green water represented safety. Once on English soil, Claudine would be beyond the reach of Fouché and his agents. That much was sincerely pleasing. The thought of her, or indeed any woman, in such hands was repellent. However, the sea also brought parting much closer. Duval guessed she would not be sorry. Her manner of late, though correct and courteous, was also distant. He understood why. For both of them the imminent separation would be welcome. Once he had resolved the issues surrounding his personal life, he would ask for another posting. Work would provide the means to keep his mind occupied. He suspected that Claudine would be hard to forget, but he meant to try all the same. For all sorts of reasons he too would be glad to reach England.
The passage to St Helier was arranged without undue difficulty. The owner of the boat was quite willing to undertake the journey for the fee that was offered. Claudine eyed him dubiously. The man, who gave his name as Pierre, was a rough-looking individual whose swarthy face and dark beard wouldn’t have seemed out of place on a pirate sloop. She said as much to Duval when they were out of earshot.
‘Pierre is trustworthy,’ he said. ‘He and I have worked together before.’
‘Now why doesn’t that surprise me?’ she replied.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘You both have a piratical air about you.’
Duval’s good eye glinted. ‘Be thankful I’m not a pirate, my sweet.’
‘You would make me walk the plank, I have no doubt.’
‘Tempting, I admit, but pirates don’t throw money away like that; not when you would fetch such a handsome profit in any slave market in the Mediterranean. You would be an ornament in any man’s harem.’
She glared at him. ‘That is a vile thing to say.’
‘It’s the truth.’ He paused. ‘Of course, I might decide to keep you instead.’
‘What, and lose a handsome profit?’
‘There would be other compensations.’
The implications of that outrageous remark rendered her temporarily speechless. No doubt it had been made with the intention of provoking her into an unguarded reply that he could exploit to his advantage. However, she had no intention of obliging him. The conversation was already in dangerous waters and he was probably enjoying the fact. She darted another look his way, but his expression remained inscrutable.
The passage to St Helier was chilly but uneventful. Claudine was so eager to reach their destination that the discomforts of a small fishing boat were rendered negligible in comparison. She spoke little to her companion on the journey, partly because it wasn’t practical to move around in the limited space, and partly because she was too preoccupied to wish for speech. Duval too seemed preoccupied, when he wasn’t engaged in private conversation with Matthieu or Pierre. He barely even glanced her way. Their earlier conversation might never have happened. No doubt such teasing came easily to him, but it had resurrected memories that she would have preferred not to revisit. Moreover, it seemed that he had not forgotten either. His words were a further demonstration of how he regarded her. If she were to give him the least bit of encouragement …
For a moment her treacherous thoughts returned to the intimacy they had shared and the touch of his hands on her body, and in spite of the chill she felt hot inside. You could take a lover. Was it himself he had meant? Probably not, in the light of what had occurred between them. I prefer my women willing. No doubt there were many such, but she wasn’t one of them. She had got carried away for a while, that was all. When she got home she could put all this behind her. She glanced in Duval’s direction but his attention was apparently focused on the horizon. No question but he was looking forward to the end of their journey as much as she was.
On arrival at their destination they bade farewell to Pierre and then repaired to a quayside inn. Hot food and a cheerful fire acted as restoratives against the chill and counteracted the effects of the voyage. It was replaced by a feeling of well-being in which relief played no small part. She was safe;
