Savage Surrender Page 7

  "I'm in no mood for your fussing today, Elise," he said brusquely. "If you can't settle down and behave yourself I'll tie you up, is that clear?"

  "You wouldn't—"

  "Oh, no?" He shifted in his seat and faced me squarely. "Perhaps you would care to test my patience, Madame."

  The hardness in his voice and the dangerous glint in his eyes silenced me momentarily. I could hear distant bird-song. As the darkness melted away, the shapes of farm houses and trees and rocks became more apparent.

  "How rocky it is here," I remarked. "It looks more like Normandy than Orleans."

  The wheel hit a rock and the curricle bounced and tilted. I clutched at the side to keep from falling out. Now that daylight was almost upon us, Valadon had whipped up the horses and we were flying over the ground so quickly that the roadside was only a blur.

  He is certainly in a hurry, I thought to myself. Is he really that eager to introduce his new bride to his mother and sisters? Does he have a mother and sisters? I didn't know. I didn't know the first thing about him. I was tempted to question him, but the thunder of the horses' hooves on the roadbed and the rattle of the wheels made such a deafening din that I decided to save my voice. Then I noticed that the sun was at our backs. We were heading west, not east, towards Paris.

  "Where are we going? Tell me!" I grabbed his sleeve and shouted into his ear. "Why couldn't we wait for Honoré and Philippe? Why are we rushing so? We're not going to your home at all. We're going west—"

  He shook me off. "Sit still!" he roared. "Do you want to upset us?"

  "Tell me!" I insisted. "What's going on? I have a right to know."

  "We're taking a little detour, that's all. Now for God's sake sit back and hold your tongue, Elise. I'll explain later."

  Suddenly I was terrified of this man. He was a stranger to me. We were fleeing together like common criminals. Why? Suppose—suppose he wasn't the Marquis de Pellissier at all? What if he was the English spy the soldiers were looking for?

  I wet my lips. "Where are you taking me, sir?" I asked in my halting schoolgirl English. "Do not try and deceive me further. I know who you are now."

  He glanced at me briefly, his mouth curled in the faintest of smiles, then he turned his attention to the road. We careened madly through the countryside, traveling faster than I had ever traveled before in my life, it seemed. If one of the horses should stumble, if one of the wheels suddenly came loose—I closed my eyes and prayed for deliverance. This maniac was riding to his death, and he was taking me with him.

  The sun stood high in the sky when we finally stopped to change our lathered horses. Before we climbed down to stretch our cramped legs, the Marquis put a heavy hand on my arm and looked intently into my face. When he spoke his voice was low and humorless.

  "Listen to me, Elise. You are not to say a word to anyone while we are stopped, is that clear?"

  "I—" I began to protest.

  "If you disobey me you will die, instantly," he said. "I promise you that. If anyone asks you how you feel you may smile and simper and blush prettily, but you may not speak. If you do—" He paused to let the full dangerous meaning of his words sink in. "Your life depends on this, Elise. Do you understand?"

  I was desperate, terrified, and angry. He was actually threatening me! His hand tightened on my arm. It felt like an iron claw. His mouth was hard and tight, and it seemed to me that his eyes were red and hot, shining like livid coals in his face. He was serious. He would not hesitate to kill me, I knew. I gulped and whispered, "Yes, my Lord."

  He released me. "All right, you may get down."

  "Pretty well done in, these animals are." The hosteler eyed our horses critically. "You folks must be in a hurry to get someplace."

  I felt the Marquis' arm slide around my waist. I looked up at him. He was smiling down at me, but his eyes were cold. "We are in a hurry, Monsieur," he said tenderly. Oh, the liar! The villain! I opened my mouth to denounce him but he placed a warning finger on my lips. "Oh, my sweet precious, don't worry. You see, Monsieur, we are eloping. This lady's family does not approve of me, and I fear her father and brothers are after us."

  The man clicked his tongue sympathetically. "It's a bad business, this marrying in haste. You know what they say." He looked at me sharply. The arm on my waist tightened viciously until I thought I would be cut in two. I managed a weak smile. "Still," the man went on, "it's a shame her family's not agreeable. I never saw a handsomer couple, if you forgive me saying so. You so tall and fair, Monsieur, and the lady small and dark. Ah, it's a strange world, isn't it, Monsieur, when two people can't be allowed a little happiness."

  He unhitched our poor horses and led them away. "You're doing beautifully, my dear," said the Marquis encouragingly. "Just keep it up."

  "You swinish villain," I said under my breath. "You'll pay for this, I promise you. Let me go this instant."

  I wriggled in his grasp but he held me firmly. "Later. Be patient."

  The hosteler promised not to tell anyone he had seen us. As we drove out of the courtyard I dropped my reticule over the side of the curricle. I hoped my brothers would see it when they came after us. I was sure I would be rescued, and as we drove I kept turning my head to see if Honoré and Philippe were in pursuit.

  "Don't bother to look for your brothers," the Marquis said with a grim chuckle. "At this moment they're probably chasing us along the Paris road."

  I bounced painfully at his side, and gradually the hope began to drain out of me. They would never find me. When this monster had finished with me he would surely slaughter me and roll my body into a ditch. The birds and scavenger animals would pick my bones clean. My brothers would abandon their search and forget me. The picture that came to my mind was so horrible and pathetic that I stifled a sob.

  The night promised to be moonless and hazy, and the Marquis conceded that it would be impossible to travel after dark.

  "Thank heavens," I sighed. "I am longing for a bath and a decent bed. And some real food."

  "That won't be possible," he said. "We shall spend the night in the fields, far away from towns and inns."

  The idea was so ludicrous that I laughed in his face. "You can't be serious!" I said after a moment. "You are mad! You must be an escaped lunatic, a raving idiot. I tell you right now, Monsieur le Marquis or whoever you are, I will not sleep on the ground like some—gypsy! In fact, I shall not go any further. Kill me now. I would rather die than spend one more minute in your presence."

  "Don't tempt me, Elise," he said half-seriously. "I might forget that I need you."

  "Need me? What do you mean, need me?"

  Darkness began closing in and he was forced to slacken his speed. We drove into a grove of acacia trees near a stream.

  "With you beside me and my highly plausible tale of romance and elopement," he said, "I can be fairly inconspicuous."

  "You'll never get away with this," I told him. "They'll find you and hang you, and when they do I shall be right there, under the scaffold, cheering them on. Your face will grow purple and your eyes will pop out of your head, and I shall laugh!"

  He raised his eyebrows. "Bloodthirsty little bitch, aren't you?" he remarked. He hopped down from the curricle and unharnessed the horses. When he had led them towards the stream and his back was towards me, I climbed down and raced for the shelter of the trees.

  I ran until I thought my heart would burst, and when I heard him pounding along behind me I sank to my knees in despair and covered my face with my gloved hands. Without saying a word, he picked me up and carried me back to our campsite, and I was too weak and sad to resist him. He set me on my feet and wrapped his long cloak around me.

  "We shall sleep side by side tonight, like husband and wife," he said. "Be certain, Elise, that if you try and escape in the night I shall know it."

  I backed away from him. "You wouldn't dare touch me," I said in a low, furious voice. "Haven't you done enough to me already? You have brought me low, ruined me, wrecked my life. Isn't th
at enough for you? I will not sleep with you tonight, you—you cur. Kill me first."

  He sighed. "You only make yourself more desirable when you are angry, Elise. Lie down and go to sleep, or I won't be held responsible for my actions."

  I sat down on the grass and folded my arms around my knees. "I will not sleep at all, then. I will not lie with you."

  "Suit yourself," he shrugged. He squatted down and opened the food sack. He hadn't eaten a thing all day, and now he ate the stale bread and cheese greedily, as it it were caviar and hummingbirds' tongues. I watched him stuffing the food into his mouth, and at that moment I hated him more than ever. I was cold, hungry, and tired; and there he sat, gleefully filling his jaws, oblivious to my suffering. I couldn't take my eyes off him and his damned bread and cheese. "Have some?" he offered when he saw the sick longing in my eyes. I shook my head vigorously, turned my back on him, and lay down on the ground. My hollow stomach rumbled mournfully.

  After a while he came and lay down beside me. I gasped and started to get up. He pulled me back down.

  "In the interests of precaution," he said, throwing his arm over me. "I need sleep and I won't get it if I have to play zookeeper all night. Just lie still and go to sleep, Elise."

  "Filthy, lying vermin," I said passionately. I twisted around and tried to spit in his face. "Scum of the earth! Wretched mangy fly-covered dog! I hate you, Armand Valadon, I hate you so much that—that—" Words failed me. Quivering with fury, I clenched my fists and strained against him, trying to free myself.

  He rolled over on top of me. My screams split the night. "You were warned, lady," he said huskily. "Now let us have no more of your childish whining and complaining."

  "Let me go!" I shrieked. "Let me go! I'll—I'll be quiet, I swear it, only don't—don't do this to me. I won't try to run away."

  His warm breath fanned my face. I could feel the steady persistent thunder of his heart—or was it mine?

  "Please," I said softly. Tears of weariness and self-pity ran down my cheeks. "Please don't hurt me, Monsieur. I'll behave, I promise."

  He gave an exasperated grunt. "You know how to try a man's patience almost beyond endurance, Madame," he said. He slid off me. I hastily wrapped myself in the cloak and turned on my side, sniffing pathetically. "Goddamn it," he growled, "stop that noise."

  I noted carefully that at least he was no different from other men I had known in one respect: he couldn't bear the sound of a woman's weeping.

  Crickets and cicadas began their tuneless night songs. Heavy darkness absorbed us. I lay for a long time waiting for his breathing to become slow and deep, which would mean that he was asleep. As far as I could tell, there was no change in its rhythm or tempo, and finally, cursing him, I fell asleep myself. Towards morning the September air grew chill, and when I awakened I found that I had pressed close to him in the night. My head was resting on his shoulders and my knees were drawn up under his. His arms encircled me and the soft wind of his breath ruffled my hair.

  I untangled myself and stood up. "How dare you!"

  He stirred sleepily and grumbled, "On the contrary, Madame, how dare you?"

  Shivering, I stumbled towards the stream. Every bone, every muscle throbbed painfully. The icy water on my face and neck made me shudder. When I searched my valise for my comb and brush I discovered I had left them at the inn. I sighed unhappily. It was going to be another dreadful day.

  I was ravenously hungry and swallowed a portion of bread and cheese without complaint. We were on our way before sunrise. Only one incident made the second day of fast travel different from the first. On a little used country lane not far from a town called Veaux we encountered a pair of soldiers on horseback. I felt my companion stiffen, and he slowed our pace to a trot as we approached them. I saw his arm go to his side, and when his coat opened slightly I saw the butt end of one of Honoré's pistols sticking out of his belt. So this fine husband of mine had encouraged my ever-vigilant brother to drink himself into a stupor and then had relieved him of his pistols. He was dangerous and desperate, and all the more dangerous because he was clever. If I could give the soldiers some sign, some indication—

  The Marquis saw me looking at him. "This is no time for heroics, Elise," he said icily. "If you behave yourself those soldiers will live. If you betray me to them, they will die and so, I am afraid, will you." He halted the curricle.

  A sergeant trotted up and lifted his hat to me. I pulled myself together and snuggled close to the Marquis." Bonjour, Messieurs!" I called gaily. "And where are you going on such a fine morning?"

  He laughed. "Somewhere, anywhere, my Lady. Today Belgium, tomorrow Russia. Who knows?"

  "Oh," I marveled, "is this the road to Russia?"

  "No," he said with a loud guffaw, "it is only the road to Veaux. And where are you bound?"

  "To visit my in-laws," I said brightly. I looked up adoringly at my husband. "We are newly married, Messieurs. Isn't it wonderful?"

  "Be quiet, chatterbox," said the Marquis fondly. "These good men are not interested in my troubles."

  The soldiers roared, and I blushed and smiled. They rode away, wishing us good day and Godspeed.

  The Marquis urged the horses on. "Well done, Elise. You have missed your calling."

  "If you mean I would make a good spy," I said coldly, "I am not interested."

  As we drove on, I thought I could smell the sea. "We're going to Nantes, aren't we?" I asked him. He made no reply except a noncommittal grunt. "I suppose this is where our journey will end," I said. "You think you are safe, and you can plunge a knife into my breast and toss me into a ditch."

  "If we're going to Nantes I can just throw you into the harbor," he said innocently. "It's much more convenient."

  Nantes reeked of rotting fish and the sea and humanity. The dark narrow streets were clotted with sailors—French, Portuguese, American, Spanish—and swarthy, dirty women and dirty children, burly stevedores and fat, prosperous-looking merchants, ragged beggars and uniformed soldiers. A row of inns and brothels and public houses rose up along the waterfront. We stopped in front of what appeared to be the worst of these and went in.

  I wrinkled up my nose at the foul air and drew my skirts up. The landlord accepted the Marquis' money, rather surily, I thought, and bade us follow him up a flight of dark, narrow stairs.

  "I'm not going up there," I whispered at the Marquis' back.

  "Then stay down here," he said over his shoulder.

  I glanced through a doorway at the tavern, with its rough types, foul women, its dirt and stench. I hurried after him.

  When we were alone in the tiny room he said, "I asked for a room that could be locked. Here is the key. I suggest you lock the door after me and don't let anyone in. A servant will come with some water and food, but if you want to be safe don't admit anyone else." He paused with his hand on the doorlatch. "Oh, I have my own key, so don't think you're safe from me, not yet." And he was gone.

  I quickly turned the key in the lock and examined our quarters. The landlord had left us with two short candles, and in the dim light the room looked dingy and not too clean. It smelled of liquor and sweat and stale pipe smoke, and I hated to think what else. I wondered if I had been deliberately abandoned here. But no, the villain had left his traveling bag, which signaled his intention to return.

  I knelt down and opened the bag. Perhaps I could find some clue to his identity, or to the purpose of his mission. But there was nothing out of the ordinary, only a few shirts, some handkerchiefs, one neckcloth, and a set of brushes with plain silver backs. I sat back on my heels with a sigh. Well, at least I could make good use of his brushes.

  I knew that this was my chance to escape him. But I didn't relish being on my own in Nantes at night. I had no money to pay for a room, and I was not so naive that I believed men would respect me simply because I was a noblewoman and Napoleon's darling. And if I ran away now I would never find out who this person was and what he was doing masquerading as the Marquis de Pellis
sier. I could best serve France, I told myself, by biding my time and trying to find out all I could about him. I was suddenly filled with patriotic fervor, and in the back of my mind lurked the knowledge that society would not be too hard on me for being forced into marriage with a scoundrel if I could somehow bring about his capture.

  By the time he returned I had washed my face and hands in a basin of tepid water, dined on an omelet and fish stew, brushed some of the dirt out of my hair, and put on a soft muslin nightgown with bands of lace at neck, cuffs and hem.

  I stood watching silently as he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off his boots, then lay back with a sigh and threw his arm over his eyes.

  "Well, you came back," I said lamely. I couldn't hide the resentment I felt towards him, and I told myself I would have to do better if I wanted to get any information out of him. I needed to play along with him, get him to trust me, lull him into a false sense of security. I would even have to pretend to—to like him. I would need all my wits and all my courage. I gave a nervous little laugh, which sounded false and hollow even to my ears. "I thought you were going to desert me."

  "You're still here, too, I see," he said. "We're both out of luck tonight."

  I sighed plaintively. "What will become of me?" I wondered aloud. I crossed the room and sat on the corner of the bed farthest from him. "You have no feeling for me at all, do you?" I asked softly.

  He thought a moment. "Feeling? What do you want me to feel? I suppose you're an attractive, desirable girl, when you're not being a screaming bitch, which is most of the time. You'll probably outgrow your willful ways. Too bad I won't be around to see it. You'll meet some stalwart fellow who will cheerfully plow you ten times a day. When you're saddled with a half dozen brats you won't have too much time to think about yourself."

  I swallowed my anger with an effort. I wasn't getting anywhere, and time was growing short. I was sure he would make his move tonight. I forced myself to say evenly, "But you still think I'm—I'm desirable." I stretched out my hand and rested it on his leg.