Chapter 10 #2
But this was a Raphael she’d never seen before.
He barely glanced at her except to ask if she’d been hurt.
At her murmured denial, he returned his attention to the man standing three feet away, who was rapidly sobering up.
‘I was jus’ bein’ friendly to the lady,’ he protested, taking a step backwards and holding his hands up in a conciliatory gesture.
‘She has no interest in the type of friendship you are offering,’ Rafe bit out, without taking his eyes off the assailant.
The man was larger than Raphael by far, and Henrietta could tell the second he realised it too. With a sneer, the brute stepped forward, drawling, ‘I think we should let the little lady decide that.’
Henri had no idea what happened next, except that a moment later her would-be attacker was rolling on the ground holding his stomach and moaning.
Eyes wide, she turned to Raphael, who looked barely winded.
She just had time to notice that his eyes were like flint before he took hold of her hand and marched her towards the lighted area of the quay.
He was walking so fast that Henri struggled to keep up with him.
For a second, she didn’t realise he was speaking, but eventually, his stony voice pierced the fog in her mind.
‘What the devil did you think you were doing wandering around Torquay harbour at this time of night?’
‘It’s hardly night,’ she protested, running to keep up with his long strides. ‘I wanted to speak with my father.’
‘I doubt he has the time for a conversation with a foolish chit who doesn’t know when to stay out of harm’s way,’ Rafe retorted through gritted teeth.
‘Err… excuse me one moment,’ Henrietta snapped, yanking her hand from his, causing him to stop with a muttered oath.
‘What qualifies you to decide whether I should or shouldn’t speak with my father?
Or indeed what I should speak to him about?
The last time I checked, you certainly hadn’t developed any divine attributes. ’
Raphael stared at her as though she were some kind of rare species he’d never observed before.
‘You could have been hurt – or worse,’ he finally said at length. The censure in his voice was gone, replaced by… in truth, Henri wasn’t quite sure. But the look in his eyes was unmistakable. Fear.
Abruptly, her heart slammed against her chest for an entirely different reason. The Frenchman had been terrified for her. She told herself it meant nothing. He’d have come to the rescue of any woman in her position – and been equally concerned for their welfare.
Biting her lip, she looked down towards her feet.
She was well aware that she’d been above foolish, and not only that, she’d told herself a complete Banbury story on her way down to the harbour.
She looked up at Raphael, who was now regarding her much as he would a wild animal he was seeking to preserve.
‘I think I owe you an apology,’ she murmured, looking anywhere but into his eyes.
‘You are perfectly correct; my actions today have been those of a sulky child.’ She gave a small sigh before continuing matter-of-factly, ‘Will you believe me if I say that anxiety has turned me into the mutton-headed harpy you see before you.’
‘Mutton-headed harpy?’ Raphael raised his eyebrows at the term, and after a second, they both started to laugh. At length, shaking his head, Rafe held out his arm. ‘Please allow me to escort you to the Faith and Fortune. I believe your father is still onboard.’
‘That will not be necessary,’ Henrietta answered. ‘I merely wanted to share something that happened this morning.’ In spite of her words, she took his arm and allowed him to walk her towards the main quay.
‘Is it something I can help with?’ he asked carefully. ‘I was heading towards the ship to speak with your father myself.’
Henrietta glanced sideways at him. She was finding it difficult to concentrate on anything other than the feel of his hard warmth. Finally, with a grimace, she described what she’d seen that morning.
‘It’s probably not important,’ she finished. ‘It’s just that when I saw a man wearing Fortune’s colours, I thought it was strange he was waiting in the garden rather than coming into the house.’
‘Would you recognise the man if you saw him again?’ Rafe asked after a moment.
She pursed her lips for a second, then shrugged. ‘I doubt it – I only saw a side view of his face. Why? Do you think it important?’
He didn’t answer immediately, and when he finally spoke, his tone was carefully neutral. ‘In truth, I’m not sure, but those men you overheard at the hotel were getting their information from somewhere. I suspect there might well be a traitor aboard your father’s ship.’
Henri looked at him sharply. ‘Most of the crew have been with the Fortune for years,’ she protested.
‘Not all of them,’ he answered pointedly.
Henrietta gritted her teeth – the fact that she’d found the sailor’s presence in the garden unsettling was what had brought her to this point, so how could she disregard Raphael’s comment?
Instead of dismissing the idea, she nodded thoughtfully, just as they reached the Poulton’s Hotel, standing imposingly on the other side of the road.
‘Would you permit me to walk you back to Redstone House?’ he asked, to her surprise.
As much as Henrietta wanted to tell him she was perfectly capable of taking herself home without an escort, somehow the words stuck in her throat. The truth was that the incident had shaken her badly.
‘Unless, of course, you would prefer me to have my carriage brought round from the hotel stables?’
Henrietta smiled and shook her head. ‘Thank you, but the walk will undoubtedly do me good, and I would be grateful for the company - providing you can spare the time, of course.’ She ignored the small voice in her head that told her the walk would also keep him with her for longer…
‘I’ll wait at the house to speak with your father. I doubt he’ll be long - we all have an early start tomorrow.’
They subsided into a surprisingly companionable silence as they crossed the road and turned back in the direction of the harbour.
After a few minutes, Raphael looked down at her thoughtfully, but her face was in shadow.
Full dark had descended during the confrontation on the quayside, and the number of people abroad had decreased significantly along with the temperature.
A couple of minutes later, they reached the bottom of the steep hill leading to Redstone House, and as they began their ascent, Rafe finally spoke.
‘Forgive me if I’m overstepping, Miss Carew,’ he murmured, ‘but I cannot not help noticing that you are unusually astute…’ He paused and left the words, for a foolish young woman, hanging in the air.
Nevertheless, Henrietta didn’t miss the implication.
Eyebrows raised in echo of his earlier expression; she couldn’t help it – she burst out laughing.
‘Have I said something amusing?’ he quizzed her, trying to keep the testiness from his voice.
‘If that is a compliment, Mr Augustin, I can only say that your technique most definitely needs work.’
‘It was not a compliment,’ he growled in response, ‘it was simply an observation.’
‘Ah,’ she responded as they began walking again. ‘What can I say? High accolade indeed from a man whose very life might well depend on observation.’
‘More often than not,’ he agreed, beginning to enjoy the conversation despite his initial irritation. ‘Observation is everything.’
‘So, since I am particularly astute – your words,’ Henrietta continued as they started up the hill, ‘I can only assume you wish me to refine my burgeoning observation skills.’ She favoured him with a mischievous grin. ‘In other words, you wish me to cultivate my nosiness.’
His mouth quirked. ‘Perceptive too, I see. Is there no end to your accomplishments, Miss Carew?’
She looked up at him, another quip on her tongue, only to fall silent as a sudden light illuminated his face.
She was vaguely aware of the lamplighter continuing up the hill after lighting the streetlamp ahead of them, but the look in the Frenchman’s eyes as he stared down at her stole her breath.
She couldn’t have spoken if her life had depended on it.
Without thinking, she turned her body just enough to face him, leaning closer as she instinctively sought the heat of his body.
For a second, he didn’t move, simply stared down at her, eyes almost glittering in the dancing light.
Then, with an incoherent murmur, his hands slid upwards to grip her arms, and he crushed her to him, his lips coming down on hers.
A white-hot fear gripped her for the briefest moment, then, with a small moan, she surrendered, sinking into his heat as she’d wanted to do since he first walked into Redstone House.
Then all thought fled as his lips slanted across hers, his mouth setting fire to her nerve endings with every stroke of his tongue.
Sensation shot through her, centred at the juncture of her thighs, where physical evidence of her need gathered even now.
Unconsciously, she sought to relieve the pressure, grinding herself against his hardness and rubbing her peaking nipples against the exquisite roughness of his jacket.
She had no idea what she was reaching for, just that it was there, and there…
Then, just as the sensations began to intensify, Rafe suddenly, shockingly, tore his mouth from hers, sliding his hands down to grip her hips, holding her still. With a muttered, ‘Merde,’ he continued to hold her hips captive, bending forward to rest his forehead on hers.
‘Pardonne-moi - forgive me,’ he whispered raggedly.
Henrietta squeezed her eyes shut, mortification flooding through her. A tightness gathered in her throat, and for one horrifying second, she thought she was going to cry.
She felt him pull back and set her away from him, oh so gently, and she wanted to scream. Blindly, she started to turn away, wanting nothing more than to escape. In answer, he tightened his grip and for a second the fear returned. Opening her eyes she looked up at him in panic… and gasped.
His eyes revealed his regret, but not only that. They exposed a longing – fierce and unmistakable.
‘I can offer you nothing at the moment, chérie,’ he murmured, staring down at her.
‘And I can make no promises that the future will be any different.’ He closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them again, she saw clearly for the first time just how much he was torn between his unwavering sense of duty and the desire to live a different life.
‘All I ask is that you wait until this thing is done,’ he finished hoarsely.
She stared back at him, swallowing the sudden lump in her throat - there now for a different reason. She sensed his pain, his isolation and, above all, his overwhelming desire for peace.
A peace she knew she could give him.
Hesitantly, she lifted her hand and cupped his cheek. ‘I will wait as long as you wish me to.’
‘Oy, you in trouble, miss?’ They had entirely forgotten the lamplighter, who’d finished lighting the lamps to the top of the hill and was now on his way back down again.
With a mischievous grin, she turned round and gave a small curtsy.
‘I am perfectly well, thank you, kind sir. I fear my husband is a trifle disguised and consequently a little befogged. We are minutes from home, however, where a large bucket of cold water is ready and waiting.’ She ignored Raphael’s incredulous look and, tucking her arm in his, urged him forward, murmuring, ‘Come along dearest, not far now.’ As they passed, she smiled at her would-be rescuer, who gave a bemused shrug before continuing down towards the harbour.
‘He thinks you a light skirt,’ Raphael declared flatly when they were out of hearing distance.
‘Quite likely,’ agreed Henri. ‘But I doubt he would recognise me again in broad daylight, so no harm is done.’
‘I should not have…’ Rafe started but got no further as Henrietta stopped and shook her head.
‘There is nothing more to say,’ she declared bluntly, facing him. ‘At the moment, our focus must be on the task at hand. What comes after…’ She left the sentence unfinished and gave another smile, this time wistful. ‘We will see.’
‘Wise, as well as perceptive, observant and astute,’ he declared drily.
‘Don’t forget nosy…’
Fifteen minutes later they arrived at Redstone House, and as Raphael pushed open the gate, Henrietta immediately felt the earlier, easy familiarity begin to slip away. Instead of the light-hearted teasing that had felt so natural, their approach to the front door felt awkward and stilted.
‘I think perhaps it would be better if I speak with your father onboard the Fortune,’ he suggested ruefully as they faced one another on the doorstep.
‘Running already?’ Henrietta quipped, then could have bitten out her tongue.
To her surprise, his lips quirked. ‘I can assure you, Miss Carew, I have no intention of running anywhere. But your altercation with the lamplighter brought home the precariousness of your situation, and I do not wish to risk your reputation any more than I already have. In truth, I was not thinking straight when I offered to walk you home.’
‘Neither was I,’ Henri sighed after a moment. ‘Clearly, I’m not quite as astute as you imagined.’
‘Where matters of the heart are concerned, it’s very difficult to be objective,’ Raphael responded quietly, staring down at her.
‘Very,’ she repeated faintly, wondering if he was going to kiss her again.
Instead, he drew in a ragged breath. ‘Speaking of astute,’ he finally went on huskily, ‘I don’t believe we finished our conversation earlier.’
‘No, I don’t believe we did,’ Henri answered, her own voice barely audible. ‘What was it you wished to say?’
‘I would very much appreciate it if you would keep your eyes and ears open, Miss Carew,’ he murmured. ‘Even the smallest of incidences can make a difference when put into context.’
‘Especially when one is both astute and observant,’ Henrietta returned with a quirk of her lips.
He bent his head in acknowledgement. ‘My thoughts exactly. If you see the man again…’
‘…I will provide you with everything from the colour of his eyes to his shoe size...’
‘…And of course, his tailor…’
They stared at each other, the absurdity of their conversation abruptly knocking down the unexpected barrier.
‘So, you wish me to be your eyes and ears, Mr Augustin,’ Henrietta murmured at length. ‘Will I receive a salary?’
At that, Rafe laughed out loud. ‘God help me if you ever decide to become a spy, Miss Carew,’ he chuckled. ‘I suspect the rules of espionage might have to be rewritten…’