my lady, I should be thanking you.’
Still panting, Aude shoved her hair back. ‘Me?’
Hugh’s sun-gilded head nodded in the direction of the port. ‘That was my sister in the barge back there.’
‘Your sister?’ Aude had heard of Louise, naturally, though she had never met her.
‘Yes, indeed. My one and only little sister.’ Hugh put his hand on his heart and his eyes held hers. He was regarding her so warmly that the heat rushed back into her cheeks and for a moment she could not look away. ‘Aude, I owe you more than I can say. My sister is—’
‘Hugh! Hugh!’
‘Gil?’
‘Some monks and a couple of the Abbot’s knights are heading this way.’
‘Merde, they cannot be allowed to delay us.’
Aude could practically see Hugh’s cares fall back on his shoulders: banished with time running out on him; concern for his sister; the loss of his baggage on that barge…
He pushed to his feet, and Aude found herself staring at a pair of strong male legs. His boots squelched.
‘I got you wet, Hugh, I am sorry.’ There was a cold lump under Aude’s breastbone. There was so much she longed to discuss with him, she wanted to wish him well…
But already Hugh was moving away. ‘It is of no matter,’ he said. ‘You have my eternal thanks. The good brothers will see to your welfare while I go and find Louise. And, Aude, if they should ask, remember that it is best that you do not know me.’ He gave her a brief bow, and in a couple of heartbeats he and Gil had gone.
Aude was sitting alone on the ravaged foreshore when the monks arrived to exclaim over her and offer her their assistance.
‘Haven’t you had enough of the river today, my lady?’ Edwige asked, curling her lip as she edged round a stinking tangle of fish nets. The wave had strung much debris along the river path and the two women were carefully making their way upstream, towards the concealed inlet.
‘Believe me, I have, but we won’t be long.’
Aude had bathed and washed the salt and mud from her hair and put on a dry gown and veil. ‘As soon as we have reassured ourselves that our property is still on that barge, we shall return to the Abbey.’
On the foreshore, some boys were hauling a halfsunk rowboat out of the river, scraping and bumping it across the stones as they dragged it in. With a grunt and a heave they tipped it on its side and the water poured out. Where was Hugh now? Had he found his sister? How was he going to prove his loyalty to the Duke?
Edwige touched her arm. ‘Where did you say this barge is?’
‘A little further on the left, there’s a backwater and…there!’ Aude pointed at a mooring in the shade of an overhanging alder. The barge looked intact. ‘See, it is exactly as I left it! I hoped it would be, tied up out of the way as it is. Come along, Edwige, stop dawdling. Don’t you want to see for yourself that your trunk is safe?’
It wouldn’t have been the end of the world for Aude and Edwige to have lost their belongings; everything they were taking to England could easily have been replaced. Which likely could not be said for Hugh Duclair. Hugh had lost so much when he had lost Duke William’s trust. His lands and his revenues had been confiscated, and today the river had snatched what little remained. When the money in his purse ran out, he would have nothing. What must that feel like?
‘What’s he doing here?’ Edwige’s sharp whisper cut into Aude’s thoughts. ‘Is he following us?’
Aude glanced back. A masculine figure in a threadbare grey tunic was striding purposefully after them. She went very still. Hugh.
The soon-to-be exiled Count de Freyncourt was rolling down his sleeves as he came and when he reached within a couple of feet of her, he bowed his head in that slightly ironic way he had. ‘My lady.’ Aude had the fleeting impression that he was pleased to see her again; she was certainly glad to see him.
‘Hugh, was Louise all right?’
‘Perfectly, thank you. Gil is looking after her.’
So tall. And when the sunlight gilds the tips of his hair, he really does look like Lucifer. Her eyes fell on the fraying sleeves of his grey tunic. A beautiful, albeit rather shabby Lucifer…
‘I should not really be speaking to you, my brother will disapprove.’ Aude softened her words with a smile.
She really did not understand it, but truly it was impossible not to smile when Hugh looked down at her like that. His eyes were soft and unguarded, as they had been before his banishment. His mouth had gone up at the corner, exactly as it used to when laughter between them was but a breath away. Aude was beginning to think that one could not help but smile whenever Hugh did. His coldness when she had first seen him on that barge that morning had been particularly distressing.
Hugh Duclair seemed to have a strange effect on her these days. She felt fluttery when he was close by, most unlike her usual calm self. It had not always been so; when they were younger there was only ease between them. Aude had liked him then and she liked him still. Except…well, there was that inauspicious encounter early this morning. She had heartily disliked him when he had taken it upon himself to remove her baggage from the other barge!
Hugh lifted a brow. ‘Wise man, your brother.’
His voice was dry. Deep. Surely it had not always been as deep? And his mouth—when had that begun to fascinate her? Hugh had a full lower lip which hinted at a sensual nature; his upper lip had a slight dip in the centre. On his cheeks there was the slight shadow of an incipient beard. Heavens! Why ever was she examining Hugh like this? A kiss. What would his kiss be like? It was an extraordinarily compelling thought, it would not be pushed to one side. She would enjoy Hugh’s kiss…
Jerking her gaze away, Aude stared at a tree past Hugh’s shoulder, painfully conscious that her eyes wanted to linger on his face, to study that nose, so strong and straight, to memorise the exact curve of those high cheekbones. Her eyes wanted to learn his features in a way that was new to her. It was extremely unsettling, not unpleasant exactly, but deeply unsettling.
Fond though Aude had been of Martin, she had never felt the slightest inclination to learn his features; her eyes had not wanted to linger on him. This reaction to Hugh Duclair was baffling. It must be because she was so worried about him. The future of a man with a day to get out of the Duchy and only a small purse between him and penury could only be bleak. Fortunately, Hugh did not appear to have noticed either her interest or her confusion.
Some swallows were diving low over the river. As they swooped up past the white cliffs on the opposite bank, Aude forced herself to concentrate on the patterns they were tracing in the air.
‘I would not want you to court your brother’s displeasure on my account, particularly when he is in the right,’ Hugh said softly.
Slowly, as though he were fighting himself, he touched her hand. Tingles raced up her arm.
‘Take care, Aude. The river has taken a bite out of the path here,
