Lisbon (30 page)

“Rowan cannot forgive me for breaking our betrothal at the last minute and—”

“Yes, why
did
you do that?” Charlotte cut in smoothly. Katherine looked vexed, but she answered. “Eustace pursued me and I was swept off my feet, ” she ground out. “And
you
should be glad I was,” she added crushingly, “else you would never have had a chance at Rowan. ” Charlotte permitted a look of polite amusement to cross her face and be replaced by her same cool questioning stare.

Katherine leaned forward, intent on her adversary.

“I came to ask you to take Rowan away—take him
anywhere,
back to England, but somewhere else.”

“And why should I do that?” wondered Charlotte.

“Isn't it obvious?” exploded Katherine. “Don't you realize that husband of yours is trying to goad Eustace into challenging him to a duel
so he can kill
 
him
?”

Charlotte came to her feet. “Rowan wouldn't do that!”

 “Would he not?” Katherine's face went haggard, and for a moment Charlotte was almost sorry for her. “You know nothing about Rowan,” she said bitterly. “You do not know his
depths
!”

“I think I may know a bit more about Rowan than you do,” countered Charlotte. “After all, I am his wife. And I say to you that Rowan would do no such thing. ”

“Oh, he would, he would!” Katherine's hands were clenched.

“Then if you believe he would,” Charlotte countered fierily, “why don't you persuade your own husband to leave Portugal?”

Katherine's hands found a chairback. She leaned upon it with a groan. “Do you think I have not tried? I beg him every day to leave this accursed city! Eustace considers Rowan's presence here in Lisbon to be a constant affront— and especially the way you both hound us. He very nearly assaulted Rowan today—and of course that would have 
brought on a duel, which is exactly what Rowan wants, he just wants to make sure that Eustace challenges
him,
he wants the world to believe Eustace to be the aggressor. Oh, I know how Rowan’s mind works!”

“I doubt that you do,” said Charlotte distantly. Katherine was not disposed to argue the point. She raced on. “Eustace will not go because he considers that if he left at this point it would be an act of cowardice, so it is Rowan and you who must leave!”

“I do not think Rowan will care to leave Lisbon just to convenience you,” said Charlotte coldly.

Katherine straightened up and gave her an exasperated look. “If you do not,” she warned, “I will have to find some other way of dealing with the matter. ” Before Charlotte could say, “Just what do you mean by that?”, Katherine had spun on her heel and gained the door. She turned to fling back over her shoulder, “And one more thing. I would appreciate it if you would stop these ridiculous attempts to seduce my husband. Making eyes and simpering —you are making fools of us all!”

She was gone through the door with that parting shot, and Charlotte sprang forward and slammed the door after her, then stood against it breathing hard.

Katherine was waspish, she was selfish, she had a cold heart—but in this case she was right: Charlotte and Rowan
should
leave Lisbon—or at least leave this inn— before the trouble between the two men worsened so that neither could in honor extricate himself.

And Charlotte
did
feel that she had been making a fool of herself by covertly smiling at Eustace when they met and coquettishly waving her fan. She had done it only to please Rowan, but it was wearing rather thin. Surely this affair with the Talybonts had gone far enough.

Charlotte feigned sleep when Rowan returned home, for she had no desire to be clasped in his arms and told on brandy-laden breath that whatever was between him and the Talybonts did not concern her. She wanted to confront him with Katherine’s visit in the sunlight, and in sunlight the next morning she brought up the subject.

It was another beautiful day in Lisbon, with gulls and 
cormorants wheeling in a cloudless sky and a fresh tangy salt breeze blowing in from the Atlantic. After breakfast Rowan had engaged an open carriage and they were driving in leisurely fashion along the waterfront. It was Rowan’s habit to drive slowly up and down the waterfront when the tide was in, noting the passengers arriving from the ships that dotted the harbor.

"Who knows?” he would say lightly. "Someone we know might be arriving—your uncle perhaps.” And he would chuckle.

Charlotte did not join him in mirth over that private joke. She hoped sincerely that she would never see her uncle again.

Today she had other things on her mind. She spoke boldly.

“I think you are driving Eustace Talybont too far in your efforts to get back at Katherine.”

A shadow of grim amusement passed over her husband s mouth. “Do you now?”

"Yes. Katherine visited me last night to implore me to make you see reason and leave Lisbon.”

Their carriage was now weaving through groups of fishermen in bright-colored shirts and darting
varinas
with gold earrings swinging from their ears, their raucous voices calling out that they had fresh fish for sale. Rowan waited until they had broken through before answering, and by then his grim smile had deepened.

"Did she indeed?”

"Yes. Don’t mock me, Rowan. This has all gone far enough.” Charlotte was becoming irritated with her sardonic husband, who seemed to be watching her in dark amusement through narrowed eyes. "Throwing myself publicly at Eustace Talybont in the way you desire makes me feel like a . . . like a . . . ” She sought for a word and found none.

"Whore?” he suggested mildly.

Charlotte flushed. "Don’t joke about it. Katherine accused me of trying to seduce him in public, and I am ashamed to say that there was some truth in that. She insists I am making fools of us all.”

“Really? Your desire not to thrust yourself upon Talybont becomes you. What else did Katherine say?”

“Just that we should leave Lisbon, since her husband will not because he feels it would be backing down somehow and he doesn’t wish to appear to be a coward. She feels it will all end in a duel if we stay. ”

“And she fears for her husband, I take it?” was Rowan s sardonic comment.

“Yes, she is afraid you will goad him into challenging you and that you will then kill him. I told her you wouldn’t do such a thing. ”

“You told her that?” Rowan looked mildly astonished. “Of course! You have nothing against bim other than that he married Katherine.”

“And made sport of me in London,” he added in a hard voice. “Rehind my back, of course. ”

There was a chill in Rowan’s manner that made Charlotte suddenly afraid for Eustace Talybont. She realized that Katherine’s assertion might have some basis after all.

“You
won’t
kill him, will you?” she asked anxiously, and was aware that he was no longer looking at her, but that his vision was focused with sudden intensity upon a wiry fellow whose travel-stained brown clothes stood out against the clean white or vivid red cross-stitched shirts of the men around him. He was not one of them, that was clear, and his quick darting eyes were scanning the crowd about him from beneath a shock of unruly black hair topped by a dirty brown tricorne.

Rowan’s gaze was fixed for a moment.
The man was here, had followed him, this fellow who had dogged his trail across half of England. Rowan had not lost him in Scotland after all. .. .

“Do you know that man?” asked Charlotte, impelled by the intensity of Rowan’s gaze.

“No.” Rut those roving eyes would soon find
him,
and the travel-stained fellow would fall in behind their carriage, pacing them. For this was no ordinary pursuer; this man would be a skilled assassin. And even if he did not strike now, his very presence would endanger Rowan’s mission.

They were just then passing a flower vendor carrying a great basket of red and yellow flowers. Suddenly Rowan leaned out of the carriage and scooped up an enormous bunch, dropped coins generously into a damp brown palm, and brought the flowers up just in time to shield his face and Charlotte s from the roving eyes of the travel-stained man.

Startled by having what seemed like a wall of flowers suddenly thrust upon her, Charlotte felt she was being somehow bribed by their loveliness to abandon this discussion. But she could not help exclaiming, “Oh, Rowan, they’re lovely!” and burying her face in their petals, drinking in the heady fragrance of the blossoms. Beside her Rowan s dark face too was half-buried in the blooms, screened from sight of the dark wiry man whose head swung about so alertly.

The carriage moved on. A heavy dray hauling wine barrels now obscured the view behind them. Rowan brushed aside the flowers and sat back.

“You have complained that our room, having but one window, is stuffy,” he observed. “Now you will have something to scent the air.”

Charlotte looked up. “And you promise you won t. . . ?” The dray had now been replaced by a coach whose driver was shouting impatiently. They were drawing away from the waterfront. Rowan took a quick glance behind him. The wiry dark man in brown was nowhere in sight.

“No, I will not kill Talybont, Charlotte, since the thought gives you such pain,” he said in an absent voice. “And you will no doubt be glad to learn that the Talybonts are nowhere near us at this moment. They are out on the Tagus seeing the Tower of Belem and other sights and are not expected to return until tonight.”

“Did Annette tell you that?”

He turned to give her an ironic look. “Does it matter how I know? I am not planning to take you out upon the river today, if that is your concern. ”

Charlotte felt relief well through her. For a moment she had thought . . . But of course that was ridiculous. Rowan was not planning to kill Eustace Talybont, he had never 
intended to kill him. It was just her vivid imagination that had made her think . . . She turned to Rowan again, her words spilling out breathlessly.

“And you
will
change inns, will you not? So that we will not be constantly brushing up against the Talybonts?”

She made a lovely picture sitting there, her violet eyes filled with mute appeal, her soft lips parted, her golden hair turned to flame in the hot sunlight beating down over Lisbon. Rowan smiled down at her. “That I will do this very afternoon,” he declared.

Charlotte’s worried face broke into a smile.

At that moment she felt herself to be both loved and cherished.

They promptly returned to the Royal Cockerel, with Rowan leaning forward urging the driver to go faster. But he did not immediately pay the landlord and whisk Charlotte away to another inn. Instead he hurried her upstairs and told her that with the city so crowded he must needs prowl about and find what accommodations he could. She was to wait for him up here, not down in the common room—he was very specific about that.

Charlotte, her arms full of red and yellow flowers, nodded happily.

Time passed. In the afternoon heat Charlotte unloosed her bodice and drowsed upon the bed.

She woke with a start. Dusk was gathering outside, a long bluish light. How long had she slept? She leapt up and realized she must have been waked by an insistent knocking on the door.

“Madame?” It was Annette’s voice, coming to her through the door panels.

Charlotte threw the door wide and Annette came in quickly without being invited and closed the door behind her.

“Rowan has asked me to escort you to your new inn.” She spoke with soft urgency. “Please do not ask questions— just come with me.” And when Charlotte hesitated, “It is his
wish.”

Somehow that quiet sentence had the force of a command. Charlotte gazed at this lithe sharp-faced Frenchwoman with the bitter dark eyes and wondered what she was to Rowan—really. A mistress out of his past perhaps? No, she was not pretty enough. Rowan liked beautiful women.

Charlotte sighed and capitulated. “Very well, Annette. I will get my boxes.”

“No, I will get them, madame.” Annette stepped forward. “Rowan has not yet settled the bill,” she explained. “There might be questions if you appear to be leaving the inn with all your possessions. But
I
am always to be seen about carrying boxes for the Talybont woman, who spends half her time shopping. No one will notice me. ”

Charlotte could see the sense of that. What she could not understand was this unwonted hurry, this haste to get out before the bill was even paid, and most of all she could not understand Rowan’s not coming for her himself.

Annette already had Charlotte’s boxes in hand, along with Charlotte’s bronze gloves, which she had snatched up from the bed, and was gesturing her toward the door.

“We will go down separately, madame. Please use the side stairs and go out the side door into the alley below— you can see it from your window. A carriage is waiting for you there. Get in it and I will join you.”

Charlotte frowned. It was one thing to be assisted in her removal by a woman who was an old friend of Rowan’s— and quite another to steal out of the hotel like a thief. Still, it must be Rowan’s desire, for this Frenchwoman seemed to be more in his confidence than was his wife!