Patricia Veryan - [Sanguinet Saga 05] - Nanette (27 page)

He managed to respond appropriately. But in his mind's eye was
the dusty ribbon of the lane that afternoon, and Mr. Fox plodding along
it, while Nanette said, "… it sounds as if you've never met the right
one." To which, like a total knock-in-the-cradle, he had replied, "…
and if I do, I'll probably be too stupid to realize it in time and
she'll be snatched from under my nose by someone else…"

Dinner was a memorable feast. The brisk air whetted appetites
and the fire painted its dancing light upon faces aglow with good
fellowship. Henri had wrought a magnificent repast of roasted chickens,
crusty hot loaves spread with butter and sprinkled with cheese, and to
wash it down, a hearty ale.

Nanette was a faerie creature that night, sparkling with
gaiety and seeming to draw an answering happiness from all about her.
Harry's attempt to sit beside her was thwarted when Mitchell slipped
into that favoured position and Yves occupied the space to her left.
Betraying no trace of the hot flare of his irritation, he turned his
attentions towards Lady Nerina. Even the nervous Beauty could not but
be charmed by the adulation of the men who surrounded her, and having
been promised she would be taken home as soon as they had eaten, she
cast off her fears and entered into the conversation willingly, if
somewhat inanely.

Harry ate little and tried not to notice the admiration with
which Mitchell watched Nanette, nor how expertly the girl used every
possible trick to ensnare him. The studious Mitchell's acquaintance
with ladies had been slight. He was comparatively new to the art of the
shy, upward glance, the soft voice, the demure sweep of downcast
lashes, the innocent, parted-lip smiles. But Harry was not, and as the
meal wore on, became so infuriated it was all he could do not to seize
Nanette's hand and drag her aside to where he could properly spank her.
He had thought he was concealing his rage until he tore his eyes from
her animated face and found Mitchell watching him with a trace of
anxiety. Shocked to realize that this brother he had only a few hours
since mourned as dead he now devoutly wished at Jericho, he forced a
grin. Relief came into Mitchell's eyes, and he turned eagerly back to
Nanette.

My lady was boring on about the friendship between her Dear
Papa and the Stirling-Armstrongs. Sir Harry was, of course, acquainted
with that noble family? He replied politely, appearing to hang on her
every word but with his thoughts elsewhere. What right had he to resent
Mitchell's attentions to his shrew? In point of fact, he deserved it,
for he had done everything wrong from the start. Having shamefully
ignored her while he mooned and yearned for the beautiful rattlepate
beside him, he'd been so idiotic as to tell Mitch he had fallen in love
with Nerina. He'd been interrupted before he could complete his remark,
but Mitchell could not be expected to know that, and naturally imagined
himself with a clear field. If only the cub wasn't so blasted handsome!
He thought defensively that he
had
helped in the
matter of the bull, but on the heels of that hopeful recollection came
the memory of his clumsy proposal, and he all but groaned with
mortification. To think that, in his blind arrogance, he had dared
offer her a marriage of convenience! Well, he would offer again! And
his brother had better stay clear! He needn't think—

A hand slipped onto his shoulder. Mitchell bent over him
solicitously. "Arm troubling you,
Sauvage . .
?"

Harry looked into those concerned eyes and felt wretched. "A
shade tired," he mumbled. "Nothing to fret about, but—" And he stared,
astounded, at the smugglers, who were scrambling madly away from the
fire and into the trees. In a flash the clearing was bare of Frenchmen,
and Harry was on his feet and rasping, "Quick! Get the girls out of
this!"

Mitchell stammered a bewildered, "What . . ? Why the—"

"Now!"

Nanette was already standing, eyes big with fear, and Harry
fairly dragged Nerina to her feet. Ignoring her outraged squeals, he
propelled her into the trees, then whipped her behind him as two dark
shapes blocked their way. Her shriek rang in his ears, and Mr. Fox let
out a shattering bray that set all the other animals snorting and
whinnying with fright.

"Who are you?" Harry demanded, and as Mitchell sprang to his
side, a dagger gleaming in his hand, added, "And what do you want?"

"It'd serve you right," drawled a familiar voce, "if I was a
Exciseman! I counted twenty kegs, Harry! Downright illegal!"

"Diccon!" Weak with relief, Harry placed a restraining hand on
his brother's arm. "It's all right, Mitch."

Nanette ran to welcome the Trader, and the second newcomer
proving to be Daniel, they all proceeded to the warmth of the fire
where the necessary introductions were performed. Diccon complimented
Nanette on her 'fine feathers' but said to Harry in a low voice, "A
fine bumble-broth you've made of it! Letting Miss Nanette get herself
all pretty and sweet so anyone chancing to ride by might recognize her!"

This aspect of the situation had slipped Harry's mind, and he
said uneasily, "This ain't exactly St. James's, you know."

"And putting both the ladies in with a scurvy crew of free
traders!" Diccon went on remorselessly. "What it's the duty of a
law-abiding man to hand over to the Watch!"

The French contingent was slinking back into view, and it
dawned upon Harry that if Diccon should prove a staunch supporter of
law and order, they might be in a very sticky situation. There was a
reward for informing against smugglers, and it would be logical enough
for the man to be tempted.

"You are very right," Nerina proclaimed righteously. "They are
smugglers!"

"That they is, ma'am," nodded Diccon, casting a scornful
glance at the motley crew. "And a more clumsy, bungling lot I never
hope to see!"

"At the least," frowned Yves, folding his arms, "
we
were where we were supposed to be!"

"Then why the devil didn't you stay there 'til I could come up
with ye?" demanded Diccon. "Why didn't you lie low like I've allus told
ye, and—"

"Because
this
one," said Yves,
indicating the flabbergasted Mitchell, "have spoil Gaston so we cannot
bring him to show us the way. And he have say he know Sussex, so when
you do not come he say he will take us to the Inn of the Black Garter.
Instead of the which, he meet a pedlar, and buy a book from him, and
ride along reading it, so that we get most into the pickles until we
find Mr. Fox and think you must not be far away, so have at the last
arrive here!"

Nanette gave a gurgle of laughter. Harry grinned, "Devil take
you, Diccon! You nigh scared the wits out of me!"

Eyes alight, Mitchell said, "Fine company you keep, revered
gaffer!"

"But," Nerina puzzled uneasily, "Sir Harry said you was a
Trader…"

Harry shot his brother a warning glance, but Mitchell was
already chuckling, "So he is, my lady. A Free Trader!"

Nerina gave a small scream, and admitting the justification
for her dismay, Harry said, "The ladies must be escorted to East Bourne
at once. Can you guide them, Diccon?"

"No. Sorry I am to say it, but I got to get my clumsy lot here
to "The Black Garter.' " His keen eyes fastened upon Harry's rather
drawn face. "Don't look like you're up to a long ride, neither. What
happened?"

Harry's attempt to make light of the incident was drowned by
Nanette's swift and glowing account of his heroism, which was in turn
cut off by Nerina's wailing plea to be conveyed home. Mitchell, who had
remained silent, his thoughtful gaze on Nanette, offered to escort the
ladies, whereupon Nanette promptly reiterated her determination to go
on to Devonshire.

"Obliging of ye, Mr. Redmond." Diccon's gaze flickered over
him doubtfully. "But—you'd best let Daniel take ye, ma'am."

"Oh, but—no. Thank you," said my lady swiftly. "We shall be
quite safe with Mr. Redmond, I'm sure."

"Doubt it," Diccon argued. "The roads is fair swarming with
men hunting fer the poor stole heiress, and—"

"Heiress?" said Harry. "I thought it was a child who was
stolen."

"Someone's child, I s'pose," Diccon shrugged. "One o' the
wealthiest women in all Europe, they say. Stole from the boozum o' her
family, what's offering five hundred pound fer news o' the poor
creature."

Harry and his brother exchanged interested glances. Nanette
breathed an awed, "Five… hundred… pounds . . ?"

"Aye," confirmed Diccon. "And if we don't get Lady Tawnish
back to her relations, we'll have the hue and cry up fer her, like as
not!"

Nerina was wholly in agreement with this, but when Nanette
firmly refused to accompany her, she uttered a wail of distress and
implored Harry to "make her see reason!"

Nanette turned a frightened gaze on him. "You will not force
me to go with her, my tyrant?"

"No one," he answered, in a tone that brought Mitchell's eyes
flashing to his face, "shall force you to do what you do not wish to
do, little one. Mitch, do you know the way?"

"Daniel knows," said Diccon stubbornly. Mitchell's frown was
not lost upon him and he sighed, "He's a fine fighting man, Mr.
Redmond."

"I am well aware of that fact." Mitchell's head was high. "And
normally my brother is also. He's a trifle down pin just now, however,
and I think Dan should remain here."

"Doubt there's much we could teach Sir Harry when it come to
fighting," grinned Diccon.

Nerina wrung her hands and, outrivalling Diccon for
tactlessness, blurted, "
Tinkers
, dearest!
And—soldiers! And
gypsies
! To say nought of
smugglers
!"

Diccon and Daniel glanced at one another in covert amusement.
Harry, however, frowned worriedly; and echoing his brother's troubled
thoughts, Mitchell urged, "Lady Nerina is perfectly right, you know,
ma'am. Should your flight become common knowledge, you would be
completely ostracized."

"And—never," said Nerina in the voice of Doom, "receive
another offer for as long as you live."

Nanette watched the play of emotion over Harry's pale face,
summoned a smile, and contradicted, "I doubt that, dear. In point of
fact, I received another offer this morning."

The Beauty stared, then looked to Harry. Mitchell, having
given a slight start at Nanette's words, also turned to his brother
with an incredulity that was shattered when Nerina said, "Oh, but I
meant a
respectable
offer!"

For once even Nanette was rendered speechless, but Harry, the
ready laughter leaping into his eyes, assured my lady that his offer
had been refused. Seeing Mitchell about to explode with mirth, he
added, "However, I'm promised to see her safe to Devon, and Devon it
shall be!"

Lady Nerina dissolved into tears, and when Yves offered her
his hack, flatly refused to travel alone with a
gypsy
.
Very soon, therefore, she wept over Nanette, tearfully implored Harry
to protect her and, apparently made even more despondent by reason of
his quiet, "With my life, ma'am," sobbed her way out of the clearing
with Mitchell on one side of her and Daniel on the other.

Nanette had taken Harry's jacket to her tent to clean and
patch the sleeve; the smugglers quarrelled contentedly while loading up
their animals; and beside the fire Diccon and Harry sat talking
together. Not once did the Trader's remarks imply a mistrust, yet there
was that in his manner which kindled a spark in Harry's green eyes; and
at length, his piercing glare fixed upon Diccon's face, he demanded,
"Why do you sigh each time you look at your tent?"

Diccon regarded him steadily. "Why, things has changed a bit,
I think. When I left, Miss Nanette hated men. Or said she did. And you
was halfway in love with the other lady and not no way in love with
Miss Nanette. Or didn't think you was. Now…" And he sighed once more.

"Now . . ?" echoed Harry. Both eyes and tone held a warning,
and Diccon said softly, "Why, I do know as how you'm a gentleman. But
she's been put in my charge, don't you see? And—what with you
being—fond of her…"

"Well, I am not," said Harry, just as softly. "I love her."

"Aye. I thought that was the way of it. Still, you did once
tell me that you— er—fall in and out of love. Rapid-like."

Harry's eyes became deadly slits; then he flushed and looked
down. "That was because I was a prime idiot, for—to own the truth,
I—I've never really been in love before."

"But—excuse me fer asking—how does ye know as ye is now?"

Harry's gaze drifted to the tent and he murmured dreamily,
"Once you are, there can be no doubts. It is so—different. So—well,
it's sort of… holy." He knew he was reddening but, turning back to the
grave man beside him, said levelly, "I pledge you my word of honour,
Diccon. The lady will be as safe with me as though she were my sister."

For a long moment the anxious blue eyes held to the steady
green ones. Then Diccon stood. "Reckon my poor rattlebrained Frogs is
ready. How they ever got this far is beyond me! I never let 'em come
more'n a mile or two inland but what I meet 'em with me own train." He
put out his hand. "I'll be back afore dawn, but if for some reason I
don't come, you get on your way. And keep to the byroads, whatever you
do!"

Harry had also come to his feet, and their handshake was firm.
Diccon grunted, "You'd best get some sleep. You don't look up to snuff
at all, and—"

"Wait up a minute!" In belated recollection, Harry crossed to
the tent and called to Nanette. She came out in a few seconds and
smilingly handed him the small box. He returned to proffer it to
Diccon. "Please take it, though it is a very poor thanks for all you
have done."

Diccon opened the outer wrapping, and the snuffbox was
carefully removed. For a moment he stared at in silence. Then, slanting
a wondering glance at Harry, he said, "A… bloodhound…" He appeared
quite overcome and, without a word, crossed to mount up and soon rode
off at the head of the long line of ponies.