Chapter 12 #2
It was dark when the coach pulled up in front of the inn where they had arranged to meet Jervis.
A freshly painted sign featuring a red woolen liberty cap hung over the door, creaking and swaying in the evening breeze.
Victor stepped down from the coach with them, watching as Rafe’s trunks were carried inside.
He reached out and clasped Rafe’s hand. “Have a safe trip my friend.”
“Are you sure you won’t join us for dinner?”
Victor shook his head. “I thank you for the offer and for the pleasure of your company today, but I’ve promised an old schoolmate in the next town over that I would pass the night with him” He winked.
“It saves the taxpayer’s money, and he swears his wife is a better cook than any chef in Paris.
” Then raising Alix’s hand to his lips he said, “Do not let your new husband make you a stranger to France, citizeness.” He turned and climbed into the berlin, the light of the carriage lanterns wavering across the red of his sash like coursing blood.
He’d been so kind, Alix thought with anguish, and yet, it was not Rafe but young men like Anton Doret and Victor de Poix who had made her an outcast in her own country. As if sensing her pain, Rafe tucked his hand under her elbow and led her into the inn.
Jervis met them inside. He looked travel-stained and tired, but wore a satisfied grin.
“The inn’s about full up, Captain, but I was able to get you and the missus a cozy little room on the third floor.
” He chuckled. “There’s a wine merchant quite put out that he’ll be sharing a common room with the likes of me, but Lord, you should’ve seen the landlord’s eyes pop when he seen all them flourishes and seals on Monsieur, I mean, Citizen de Poix’s letter.
There’s a nice little fire going in the hearth and I’ve spoken to the kitchen maid about sending up some warm water for a bit of a wash, knowing how particular you are about your cleanliness.
” Jervis rubbed his long nose with his sleeve.
“Though what harm a bit of dirt does a man, I’ll never know.
Would you be wanting something to eat, or would you rather wait?
It’s amazing, for all the talk of food shortages, they’ve got a lovely supply hereabouts. ”
Rafe raised a hand to interrupt Jervis’s disconnected flow of information. “Jones, first tell me what you’ve been able to find about the Xanthus, is she still in port?’
Jervis’s smile grew even broader, and for the first time Alix noticed he was missing several teeth in the back.
“Indeed she is, Captain, and Williams is set to sail at ten o’clock tomorrow night.
You and the missus can have yourselves a nice rest this evening, sleep in a bit and then we’ll all take a nice ride to Calais.
I’ve got the carriage and a sweet foursome of bays hired and ready to go. ”
Rafe grinned back. “Good man, Jervis. We should be in London the day after tomorrow.” He turned to look at Alix. “If it’s all right with you, I’ll have Jervis bring up a light supper in about an hour’s time.”
She nodded; her stomach’s needs the farthest thing from her mind.
“So then, shall we go and inspect the wine merchant’s former room?”
The stairs were narrow and crooked, but the walls and floors of the inn appeared clean and well kept. Reaching the top of the staircase, Jervis led them to the last door down the hall.
Jervis turned the key in the lock and swung the door open to reveal a small room tucked under the eaves.
As he had promised a fire was burning on the hearth.
A small settee and an armchair were set before the fire, a low round table between them.
A colorful woven carpet covered the broad planks of the floor, and a bed was set into an alcove, draped with red and white patterned curtains.
A fabric screen in the corner concealed the washstand and commode.
Alix stepped inside, Rafe following, and his presence seemed to fill the room.
Even though he wasn’t touching her, it seemed any direction she turned he was brushing up against her.
Jervis was right, Alix thought, it was cozy, far too cozy.
She glanced quickly about looking for a door that might lead to a sitting room, but found none.
“Well,” Rafe said, stepping in front of the fire and rubbing his hands, “this is certainly better than last night’s accommodations.” He glanced at Alix and couldn’t resist adding, “Though the storeroom wasn’t completely without its comforts.”
Alix flushed and Rafe wondered why he couldn’t leave well enough alone.
“As you see, I’ve had your trunks brought up already, Captain. Is there anything else you might be needing?” He pulled the end of his nose. “There’s a dice game on in the tap room, and I was doing rather well for myself before you arrived.”
Rafe chuckled. “Go on then, you’ve earned a bit of fun.”
As the door closed behind Jones, Rafe glanced at Alix. “I always have Jervis make sure there’s plenty of hot water and clean towels waiting for me at the end of the day. If you’d like, you can wash up first before dinner arrives.”
Alix nodded, as she untied the bow of the bonnet Henriette had given her. Hanging it on a hook behind the door, she went behind the screen. The water in the pitcher was warm and there was a thick bar of soap on top of the towels.
“After we dine, I’ll need to check up on a few things with Jervis,” Rafe called out to her. “If you’ll pull an extra blanket off the bed and a pillow, I can make up a comfortable place for myself with the settee and the chair pulled together.”
Alix squeezed her washcloth so suddenly a stream of water ran down the front of her chemise.
You see, she told herself, he’s being a perfect gentleman; indeed he had been all day.
She draped the washcloth carefully over the bar at the side of the washstand, feeling an odd sting of disappointment.
A wave of embarrassment swept over her. Perhaps her behavior in the shed last night had disgusted him.
But when he touched her, she’d felt uncontrollably drawn to him, had been unable to think of anything but touching him back, running her hands through his hair, along the strong lines of his arms, his back.
Madeleine said a lady should always resist, particularly if she was unmarried. But they were married, she reminded herself. Alix stood, suddenly confused and unwilling to step from the behind the screen and face him.
“May I borrow your hairbrush,” she asked, stalling for time.
‘Tell you what, you give me a turn with the hot water before it goes cold, and I’ll brush out your hair.”
It was a simple request, he didn’t wish to make do with cold water, and yet the thought of him so close, touching her hair worsened the chaos in her head. “By all means,” she said more resolutely than she felt.
A serving maid brought in a light supper while Rafe washed. He’d thrown his waistcoat and shirt over the screen and Alix tried not to notice that if she looked at the mirror over the mantle she could see his bare chest.
She poured herself a steaming cup of coffee, willing herself not to look at him.
The rich liquid scalded her tongue and she quickly put the cup down.
Her eyes were drawn irresistibly back to the mirror.
Mesmerized, she followed the path of the washcloth along the sculpted muscles of his arms and across his chest. Golden brown hair curled below his collarbone, wound around his nipples, tapered in a dark line down his flat stomach and disappeared into the unfastened top of his britches. Her skin felt as seared as her tongue.
She tore her gaze from the looking glass above the mantle and stirred her coffee, even though she knew the sugar had already dissolved, desperate for something to fill her hands. He stepped from behind the screen a moment later, in a fresh shirt and pale green waistcoat.