RETURN TO THE MANOR
Sleep came to Fraser late that night. He kept thinking about Bernadette, his thoughts straining to reach her through the wall.
He recalled the warm plumpness of her lips as he kissed her, the feel of her sweet, curvy body pressed against his as they rode together, her form held safely in his arms. He wanted her so badly. He tried to quell his desire, but, perversely, that only made it worse.
I want that woman so badly. I need to do something.
He stood and walked to the window, gripping the sill. He fought the urge to walk straight through to her bedchamber and kiss her again. He knew how wrong it would be, how he couldn't impose himself on her like that. It was wicked.
Sighing sadly to himself, he got back into bed and tried to sleep.
Light shone through the window onto his eyelids and he woke, groaning. He was tired. He doused his face in water from the ewer and dressed, albeit sluggishly. He woke up slowly and was feeling better as he headed down into the front-room of the inn, the smell of fresh-baked bread wafting through on the cool morning air and making his stomach clench with hunger.
“Good morning,” he called cheerily to the innkeeper. “How are...oh.” He stopped, staring, as Bernadette walked down the stairs.
She was dressed and awake, with her long dark hair loose about her shoulders and her skin pale with weariness. She looked at him with her plump lips parted in a little “o” of surprise, and she was lovely.
“My lady,” he said, sweeping a low bow. “A lovely surprise to see you here.”
She smiled. “Good morning, my lord.”
He walked to the table and gallantly drew out a chair for her. “I see you rise early, too. Please, join me for breakfast.”
She smiled. “Thank you; yes...I'd welcome some company.”
He sat down opposite her and tried not to let his eyes go to the sweet sight of her full cleavage at the v-neck of her low-cut dark-green gown. She had such lovely pale skin, and her eyes were big and serious. Under the table, he could just feel her leg, a soft warmth that didn't touch his own. He moved his foot so that his leg rested against hers. She gave a little gasp.
He tensed and moved his foot back – not entirely, but just enough to be able to justify the contact as accidental, should she comment on it. She said nothing though.
“You slept?” he asked politely.
“Yes, milord. A little.”
He nodded gravely. “Good. I too. Though not as much as I would have liked,” he added.
“Oh?” she asked. “Was your bed uncomfortable?”
“No,” he said. He felt his mouth lift up in a smile and hoped she wouldn't ask him what had kept his mind so occupied that he couldn't sleep. Luckily, she didn't, and he gave a little sigh of relief.
“We will return to Evreux today? Bernadette said softly. “I need to reach it as soon as possible...Claudine and Francis are there.”
“We'll return as soon as Honore comes down and breaks his fast with us.”
“Yes.”
“Milord. Sorry for the delay,” the innkeeper said, appearing at their table with a tray containing fresh loaves, cheese, butter and milk. “Breakfast.”
Fraser felt his mouth water as he caught sight of the food. None of them had eaten dinner yesterday and the smells caught at his stomach, making it tight with hunger. “My lady,” he said, waving a hand at the boards of food. “You start.”
She fell on the food with ravenous hunger and he looked away, letting her have the privacy to break her fast with the urgency it needed. He helped himself and was soon eating as ravenously as she.
His leg touched hers again and she didn't flinch this time. He leaned closer and let his knee gently probe between hers. This time she did flinch.
“My lord,” she said. Her voice was strained, but oddly, it didn't sound angry, merely wistful. Did she feel the same longing as he did? Strangely, the idea had never occurred to him. He had thought that she was indifferent. Then again, it didn't feel that way when they kissed, did it?
He cleared his throat. “I'm sorry,” he said gently.
“Don't be,” she said. “I just...you know.”
He nodded. “I do.”
He didn't, not really. It could be that she still found him repellant, or perhaps she was worried that the innkeeper would see them. It could be any number of things. He looked down at his plate.
“My lord?”
“Yes?” he asked. Honore had appeared in the dining room.
“May I?” he asked. He was looking at his boots, clearly unsure as to whether or not he would be welcome to join the lord and lady at the table. Fraser nodded.
“Please, Honore. You're part of our party. Sit. Eat. We ride as soon as our fast is broken.”
“Yes, my lord.”
While they ate, they discussed the ride back. Fraser noticed that Bernadette went quiet, looking at her plate. He guessed something was worrying her and wondered what it was. As they stood to leave, he let Honore go out first and joined her. “Milady? You are distressed. What troubles you?”
She looked up at him. “I...so many things,” she said, her voice wobbling. “Fraser! How can you ask that?” she added. “I'm here, alone with you – well, Honore is hardly a suitable chaperone. And those men...they were going to kill me! They might still be out there. Why would I not be worried?” she said hotly.
Fraser looked at his hands, straining to find the words. He felt stupid. How had he failed to remember that it was only yesterday she had been abducted by brigands! He was a fool. “I'm sorry,” he said quietly. “I let my own...concerns...override my better sense. Of course you're worried. And rightly so.”
“Oh, Fraser,” she said, a little sadly. “I...I need to know who it was.”
He guessed who she meant – the men who’d abducted her. He saw Honore turn to face them with a question in his eyes and lowered his voice. “I'll tell you what I think on the way back. For now, I think Honore needs me to settle our account here with the inn.”
“Yes,” Honore said, hearing the last part. He looked relieved.
“Well, then.” He stepped forward, reaching into his belt, where he had a pouch of silver coin. He felt a slim hand on his arm.
“Let me,” Bernadette said softly.
“No, milady!” he said, gently but firmly. “I insist. Allow me.”
She nodded. “Very well. And, thank you.”
“No thanks needed, milady.” He paid and then they were heading out to the stables to mount up.
When the groom led out the two horses, Bernadette frowned. “Do you hire out horses at this inn?”
The groom nodded. “We do, milady.”
“Good. Then saddle me one of them. I'm riding alone.”
“Very good, milady.”
Fraser raised a brow, but nodded, He understood. He would make the same choice in her position. Besides, it meant the group could go faster.
“Thank you, milady,” he said. “But only if you're certain..?”
She nodded briskly. “Riding is one of my greatest pleasures,” she confided. “Of course I am!”
He chuckled. They all set off together.
Watching Bernadette ride was a pleasure in itself, he discovered. It was almost comparable to the joy of having her ride with him, though not quite. He found himself staring at her, admiring the firm back, the ready hand on the reins, her beautiful profile.
And her figure! He tried not to stare. She had full breasts that filled the bodice of her dress, and a narrow waist above a generous hourglass of a figure. He couldn't draw his eyes away. He wanted her so much. He wanted to feel those breasts fill his hands.
“My lord?” she said, interrupting his involved fantasies about her.
“Oh! Sorry, milady. Miles away. What was that?” he asked, feeling his cheeks heat with shyness.
“Not at all,” she smiled. “I wanted to ask you about what you divulged earlier – the information you have about my...assailants,” she added carefully.
“Oh. Yes. I think – I cannot be certain of course – but I think they were sent by the count of Corron.”
He had not expected such a galvanic reaction. She stared at him. “The count of...no,” she whispered. Her face was white, her eyes dark holes in the fabric of it. She looked horrified.
“I'm sorry, milady,” he said, feeling a genuine concern that she might collapse. “I didn't mean to scare you.”
“That man!” she said, shaking her head. She shuddered like a horse trying to throw off flies. “He's cruel.”
“I know little of him,” Fraser admitted.
“He tried to murder my lady, Claudine,” she said. “He has no conscience, no morals.”
Fraser stared at her. “He tried to murder her? My lady! How...when...”
“He's her uncle. He wished her to be dead, or at least as near to death as makes no difference, so that she could not wed and produce heirs. With no issue from her, he himself would become the duke of Pavot, after her father. However, we found out. And now, well...when they have a son, he'll be the duke.”
Fraser nodded. “I understand. But, my lady. You're in awful danger.”
“I know,” Bernadette said. “I don't know what to do.”
“Let me come back with you,” Fraser said quickly. “If you have houseguests already, I can join the party. There is naught immoral in that,” he added, and a smile lifted his cheeks.
“I know,” Bernadette agreed. She was looking at him with a sweet expression that mirrored exactly how he felt for her. He felt his heart melt a little.
“Well,” he said, clearing his throat and drawing his attention briskly to the moment. “We should catch up with Honore.”
He saw her look up, surprised. Their companion was at least thirty paces ahead, striking out across the fields. She laughed.
“Yes, we must. You want to race?”
“My lady! I...”
She was off. Fraser chuckled and found himself so caught up in watching the lithe beauty that was Bernadette galloping on horseback that he came in a nose behind her.
“You see? I won!” she laughed. Her face was flushed with triumph. Her eyes sparkled.
She looked, Fraser noted, impossibly lovely. “You did indeed.”
Honore turned in the saddle and looked from one of them to the other, seemingly entirely confused. “We're almost there,” he said. “Another ten miles.”
“I know,” Bernadette sang out cheerfully. “I look forward to it.”
“Indeed,” Fraser nodded. He looked at Bernadette.
“I suppose I should invite you to join my house-party,” she said with a smile. “I would be pleased to have you join.”
Fraser looked at her. Her lips were slightly parted, moisture wetting the full bottom lip. He felt his loins tense and gripped on the pommel of his saddle, trying to control the intense longing.
She smiled at him and he coughed, noticing that he was staring at her. He tore his eyes away and she laughed.
“Come, my lord. Another ten miles and we will have luncheon.”
“Good!” he said, realizing that he was still hungry. With the three of them at breakfast, the bread and cheese had not gone quite as far as it should have. “I look forward to it.”
“So do I,” she said.
Her eyes twinkled as she turned her horse and rode ahead again and he wondered, fleetingly, if it was the luncheon she looked forward to, or his company.
Then he had no more time to think about it because she was setting her horse to a canter and he was trying his best to keep up.
They reached Evreux at lunchtime.
Fraser watched as Bernadette hailed the guards on the wall. “Henri! Gerard! It's me. Open, please.”
“Milady!” The walls were suddenly a flurry of activity as the men ran to open the gates, and Fraser noticed that the cheeks of some of them were wet with tears. It surprised him. He hadn't known how well-loved Bernadette was.
“Thank Heaven you're safe!” one of the men – Henri or Gerard, he had no idea – called out.
“Thank you,” Bernadette's sweet voice called out. “I am pleased to be back.”
They both grinned at her and Fraser reined back his horse, not wanting to interfere with the private reunion as she rode up to the gate. She was met by a white, gaunt Francis and a Claudine whose blue eyes stretched wide with amazement and tears.
“Bernadette!” Claudine shrieked. She ran to her, and in a most unladylike display of affection, wrapped her arms around her friend and held her close.
Fraser, too, dismounted. He stood about ten paces behind, watching as Claudine and Bernadette wept, grinned at each other happily and Francis, also blinking, shook her hand. Then he noticed Fraser.
“Fraser?” he said, frowning, his grin lopsided, expression utterly confused. “What are you doing here?”
“He rescued me,” Bernadette said.
Fraser heard fondness in her voice and his heart swelled with pride. “Oh, my lady,” he said softly. “It was nothing.”
“No, it wasn't,” Bernadette said warmly.
Their eyes met and Fraser swallowed hard, feeling his loins ache. He looked down, cleared his throat. Looked up again.
“Well,” Francis said, looking between them and breaking the tense uncertainty. “I think we should all go in. I'm sure Lady Bernadette is hungry. And much as we'd love to hear more, we can defer it till then.”
“Very sensible. Of course. Come, my dear,” Claudine said, her soft face softened with compassion. “Let's go in.”
“Yes,” Bernadette nodded briskly. She looked around to Fraser. “Come,” she said softly. He felt her voice spiral down to his toes.
He gestured to Honore, and Bernadette nodded. The two of them followed the party inside for luncheon.