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Authors: Jackie Williams

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BOOK: Running Scarred
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A greying veil of algae covered the mighty Chateau walls. She stretched her arms along the arcing curve of a huge corner tower and she had to cling on hard to the cold stone to stop the sensation of upside down vertigo as she stared up at the overwhelming sight.

She took a massive, calming breath. She
stepped backwards again to take in the spectacle, nearly falling into the rhododendrons she had just escaped from, and surveyed the length of the wall before her. It was a fairytale castle of vast proportions, the towers scrapping the sky on each corner. She was lost in its beauty as she stood gasping in delight. And then the dark grey clouds parted and a soft moonlight skimmed the walls and turrets.

It was a sorry sight.
Certainly no fairytale. More like gothic horror. The roof had obviously collapsed in places and slipped tiles littered the ground. The massive walls gave way to drooping shuttered windows along its length, the frames soft with rot and spilling shattered glass that crunched under her feet as she walked along the surrounding path.

“Wow!” She breathed aloud, her awestruck whisper echoing off the stone. “What a fantastic find. It’s nowhere on the maps.” She was talking to herself as she dragged her fingers along the wall towards a wide set of stone steps that led her up to the high front door.

There was a small sign tacked to the wooden doors that filled the impressive stone arch.

“Entre Interdit. Danger!”

She pressed her forehead against the glass panel still hanging in the rotten wood at the side of the huge door, and tried to see through the filth. It was impossible. The light had faded so fast that it
was becoming hard to see her hand in front of her face, let alone anything else. She stepped back and her foot slid on what she at first thought was a moss covered flagstone, but her foot kept sliding and she realized she was standing on a smooth sheet of damp cardboard. She staggered slightly, nearly slipping down the steps. She lifted her foot, but the cardboard had stuck to the mud on the sole of her boot and she ended up picking it off and throwing it back towards the floor, shaking sticky earth from her fingers. The cardboard caught on the hem of her jeans and tumbled down the steps, coming to land on the grass below.

She watched it fall and was about to turn away when she noticed the big white lettering, still clearly visible in the gloom, on the cardboard

“A Vendre”

My God!
She thought wildly, as her imagination kicked in.
This place is for sale!

She jumped back down the steps and grabbed the piece of sodden card. Her own muddy footprints obscured the name of the agent, making it too difficult to read in the ever-decreasing light. She wiped the card on the scrubby grass at her feet. “
Agence Le Cam” There was a number beneath the name, small and ingrained with dirt. She folded the card across the middle and shoved it inside the neck of her jacket. She would decipher it later and then come back when she could see properly. She stood back to gaze up at the ruined Chateau once again and then turned back towards the forest, ready to face the rest of her walk.

The thick shrubbery gazed back at her impenetrably. She had no idea of where she had come from and it was now so dark she could barely see at all.

She stood contemplating the leafy shrubs for a few moments and then walked along the edge of the line of rhododendrons, trying to spot a footpath marker or even where she had blundered through previously. There was nothing on this side of the Chateau and she squinted into the darkness as she came to the corner arcing tower of the vast building again. She turned and looked back towards the front door, momentarily confused.

Had she come from this side at all?
It was all so symmetrical she really had no idea of which way to turn. She went back to the steps of the front door and stood very still, trying to get her bearings.

The dusk was fast becoming full dark and the near silence of the woods surrounded her, whispering tired sounds as the day came to an end. The only other sound came from
her own jagged breathing and the loud thumping of her heart. She knew it was irrational. Even if she did have to stay here until the morning, it wouldn’t be so bad. It really only meant a chilly, damp night camping and she had had plenty of those in her youth, when she had been a girl guide.                     

She would miss her fabulous dinner and
Justin might be worried, but as she had stormed off, leaving him standing open mouthed beside the stunned estate agent, she could hardly expect him to have mounted a search party. He was probably sitting, relaxed at the hotel bar, starting on the first of his vodka and tonics. She put her hand in her pocket to find her phone, but then stopped as she clearly remembered leaving her mobile in the car because there was no signal

“Damn, what a fool!” She muttered to herself crossly, but she secretly knew that she probably wouldn’t have telephoned Justin for help. She wouldn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

She rubbed the patch of filthy glass again and pressed her face close, wondering if she wouldn’t be better off inside the Chateau, but she could only make out a tiny patch of damp floor before it gave way to impenetrable inky black. She could see shards of shattered windows winking in the moonlight and then nothing. She suddenly felt that she would rather stay outside than attempt to get in. At least she wouldn’t be in danger of cutting herself out here.

She squatted and then eased herself down onto the top step, staring away from the doors, into the darkness. The hard flagstones were cold under her backside and it wasn’t long before she was shivering almost uncontrollably. She thought again about trying to find her way through the trees, but she had no idea of where to start, and short of
stumbling through the forest all night long, without any guarantee of finding civilization, she was better off staying put, cold or otherwise.

She tried to make herself more comfortable, pressing her back into the corner of the stone doorway where it met the outside wall and rubbing the tops of her arms briskly, she attempted to regain some of the heat of her march. She closed her eyes, tucked her chin into her chest and wished the hours away, not thinking of the luxurious mattress and fluffy quilt waiting at her hotel.

But the thought of the warm covers was too much and, in a sort of waking dream, she pulled the fluffy down duvet over her now freezing shoulders and huddled into the Chateau entrance.

It was only as she heard the heavy
breathing, breathing very unlike Justin’s that she realized that somebody was right beside her and that a thick coat had been thrown across her body.

She sat bolt upright and tried to catch her breath as she saw the shape of a well-built man looming over her. He staggered
backwards, surprised at her sudden movement and the darkness disguised his features for a moment. Then the moon appeared from behind a cloud and she caught a glimpse of an almost familiar, handsome but ragged face, pale in the moonlight, shadowed or perhaps wrinkled strangely on one side, with glinting sapphire eyes peering at her from under long dark hair.  Another cloud raced across the moon again and everything was plunged into darkness.

She scrabbled back into the corner as far as she was able, but he leaned in towards her, tall and heavy across the shoulders. She felt his breath, warm and garlicky, waft over her. He reached out his hand as she opened her mouth to ask who he was, and put a warm palm gently across her trembling lips. He muttered in a hoarse whisper.

“Shhh. I’m not going to hurt you. Come with me. I’ll take you to the road.”

He waited for just a moment, checking that she had understood him, before he took his hand away from her mouth again and grappled at the top of her arm. She swallowed dryly as he pulled her gently upright. She caught another hint of garlic and something that smelled like fresh herbs.
Rosemary maybe? It wasn’t unpleasant. It was delicious. She was so caught up in his scent that she didn’t realize for a moment that he had spoken to her in English.

He towered over her, the dark shadows of the Chateau masking his true outline, his forceful presence electrifying the air all around her. And then she noticed he was
favouring one side as he dragged her, with a slightly uneven lope, down the stone steps. She twisted away from his grasp as they reached the rough grass and she stared towards him, willing the clouds out of the way.

She wanted to see him clearly. She wanted to know who this Englishman was. The clouds moved across the sky in a thick blanket of darkest
grey. Ellen was about to turn across the front of the Chateau, but he caught hold of her again, his huge hand encircling her upper arm firmly, fiery heat penetrating through her flimsy jacket.  He began pushing her towards the even darker leaves of the forest. It was several seconds before she found her voice.

“Stop!
I’m fine, you don’t need to hold me. I don’t need your help.” She could hear the slight tremor in her own voice, though she wasn’t afraid.

The man gave a
gravelled grunt, and then what may possibly have been a laugh. He let go of her arm suddenly and caught the edge of the coat still draped around her shoulders then, in another hoarse whisper, he growled.

“If you want to stay out in the cold all night then fine, I’ll leave you here, but I guess you’d rather go back to your hotel.” His voice was deep, rasping in the back of his throat, his words punctuated with breathy swallows, but she noticed the accent.
Very much like her own, often mistaken by the French for London, but really Essex.

She was so taken aback that she stopped struggling and let him pull her through the undergrowth. It took her a few more minutes of being dragged along through the now pitch black forest, before she had the breath to speak again

“I need to get to Plestin. I know it’s not far but I have to admit that I’m slightly disorientated. Do you know the way?” She kept her eyes on the space above her. Although she could see virtually nothing, she looked at where she could hear the sound of his breathing, steady and firm.

There was a low throaty laugh at her ear and the man let go of her entirely. For a second she was lost in the inky dark, she whimpered as she stretched out her hands, blindly batting air until he caught her arm again. He laughed once again. His tone was more normal now.
Not nearly so gruff. It was as though he was getting used to using his own voice.

“I know the way better than you, and you obviously do need my help. I said I’d take you as far as the road. We’re nearly there. Can you see the lights yet? You’ve got about another half mile after you reach them, but if I point you the right way you should be able to manage that on your own even with your terrible sense of direction.” As insulted as she was she kept
quiet. Something in his tone made her thrill and shiver and want to hear him again. His voice was warm and as deep as his breathing, but he was silent now as he guided her further onwards.

She caught the hint of a perfume, rich and spicy. She breathed it in deeply and closed her eyes. And then a sudden feeling of complete arousal nearly overcame her. A feeling that she hadn’t had for years and with
an intensity she had never experienced before. She clamped her lips together as incredibly erotic sensations shot through her body. She balled her hands into tight fists, almost afraid that she would say something or even do something regrettable. She felt almost faint as his muscled arm brushed past her cheek as he pointed in front of her.

He spoke again, this time his voice melted over her, thick and velvety.

“There, see them now? The lights along the road.”

She couldn’t answer and she didn’t look at his hand, she didn’t want to see the lights. She could feel her heart pounding against her ribs and she knew that she wanted to stay with him here in the dark forest.

What the hell was the matter with her? He was a complete stranger.
A hobo, obviously living rough in these woods, maybe a tramp who sheltered in the Chateau. Not some Prince Charming about to sweep her off her feet. And why would she want a Prince Charming anyway? She had Justin. Her heart plummeted and she shook herself back to reality, pushing this strange man’s husky, secret tones into the back of her mind as she stared ahead, straining her eyes into the endless darkness and seeing nothing at all. He guided her further along the path, his body so close to hers that she could feel the heat pulsing from him.

Another twenty paces she could see pinpoints of light in the distance. Relief surged through her. She wasn’t sure if it was relief to see the lights or relief that she could now move away from his intoxicating presence. She breathed out a huge lungful of air.

“Yes, I can see them now. I knew I was near the town. I was just disorientated. Thank you so much.” She turned towards the man at her elbow, but his warmth was no longer at her side and she realized that he was already gone. She stood still for a few seconds, feeling horribly empty and cold, listening to the small, whispering sounds of the forest moving gently as someone pushed their way through the undergrowth, and then there was complete silence again. “Thanks Essex boy!” She yelled playfully out into the dark.

From further away than she would have imagined possible in the few short moments he had left her, she heard a faint.

“No problem, Essex girl. Night.” There was a slight laugh in his deep tones.

BOOK: Running Scarred
12.1Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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