The Highwayman's Mistress (9 page)

~

Francois had alighted
from the coach and ridden off, his excuse that of going ahead to alert the
household to her imminent arrival. What house, and where? They were still in
Pembrokeshire, and she had little idea of where the coach was headed now that
it had turned off the highway.

 
With two hamlets behind them she
was absolute sure she had spied a seascape through trees. Eyes peeled to her
left she sought that same distinctive deeper shade of blue, and there it was
again.
 
Her heart soared, for as the
coach rounded a bend and the trees fell away downhill, a small harbour came
into view.

 
Where were they? What was this
place? She shuffled along the seat to the far side of the coach in order to
peer out through the window at the grass verge. Surely there would be a road
sign, perhaps, a milestone with name.
 
But
there was nothing, and soon the coach veered to the left and up a slight
incline and then down again. She could no longer see the harbour, for there
were trees both sides of the very narrow byway.

 
Patience was the greater virtue,
but with sweet memories of their indulgence and recent coupling patience proved
impossibly frustrating. Nonetheless, her reward was soon realised as the coach
veered to the right through a stone gated entrance, for there, merely a short
distance along a winding driveway a house appeared.

 
She thought it beautiful and
very old, and where it was situated was breathtaking for it overlooked the sea.
She could imagine how it would be to stand at a window the far side of the
house and look out over the waters of the bay. While the coach negotiated a
tight turn to come alongside the main entrance of what appeared to be a small
castle, people spilled forth to greet her and she recognised Angelica and
Richard alongside Francois.

 
There was no Charles, no Leohne
and no mother, and for the first time since leaving Lady Fortnum and Hugh,
sense of loss overcame her. She had, effectively, run away from all them to be
with her lover.

 
Francois stepped forward and
opened the coach door. In a thrice he lifted her off her feet and into his
arms, and kissed her before letting her stand on her own two feet. “See who has
come to help you settle to your new home.”

 
She flew to Angelica, hugged
her, the enormity of Francois’ declaration hitting her as she hugged Richard.
“New home, this is our new home?”

 
Richard grinned, wrapped his arm
about her shoulder, and said, “The luck-ridden devil came across this by the
good fortune of a great friend of the family. My family, that is.”

 
Francois laughed. “The family
friend who drove a hard bargain.”

 
“Good at the price, dear fellow,
good at the price.”

 
She hated having to spoil the
joyous reunion, but needed to know. “What are we to do, when mother finds out
what has happened?”

 
“That could be sooner than any
of us would wish for,” said Angelica. “There was a last minute change of plan.
Your mother and sister decided to travel over to fetch you, and that is why
Richard is here. He rode ahead to warn Francois, and Francois had to act
swiftly if you were to be together.”

 
“It’s true, Diamonta,” said
Richard. “I fear your mother will never forgive Francois for luring you to his
arms. That is how she views the situation. And I foolishly left papers lying
around and Leohne must have read them.”

 
“She told your mother,” said
Francois, catching up her hand. “Never fear, we will face her together if she
comes for you.” He drew her hand to his lips. “I will not let you go, not
ever.”

 
Fear and dread of her mother’s
wrath crept over her like a dark shadow, but anger gripped her, too. “Why would
Leohne tell mother? Why be so spiteful?”

 
“As much as I love your sister,”
said Richard, his expression that of deep sorrow. “She can be most infuriating,
and oft proclaims honesty to be a virtue, and then fibs to her heart’s content
when it suits her.”

 
“A mischief maker, if you ask
me,” intoned Angelica, whilst fanning her face in furious manner. “I cannot
understand your affection for the girl.”

 
Richard glanced at Angelica, a
smile to his face. “Nor I yours for Charles.”

 
“That is different. We are mere
friends, not secretive lovers.”

 
“You and Charles?” exclaimed
Diamonta, quite taken by the idea of her brother and Angelica as a couple. “And
mother
 
. . . does she approve of this
mere friendship?”

 
Richard laughed. “She seems to
have mellowed somewhat and positively encourages the pair of them.”

 
“Enough, enough” said Francois,
taking her hand and leading off. “The house awaits.”

 
She had to know. “Where is this
place?”

 
He laughed, wrapped his arm
around her shoulder. “Amport House. You’ll love it. There’s a beach beyond the
garden. We can ride through woodland, ride along the beach, and ride all the
byways.”

 
She glanced up at the stone
façade of the house before making her way past the solid oak door and into the
hallway. Its panelled interior suggested the house was built sometime in the
sixteenth century as its fortressed exterior implied. It was a dream house, not
unlike Oakley Manor, though heavenly in its elevation, but perhaps hell around
the corner very soon.

~~

She had not
thought she would one day wake in his arms his mistress, for that’s what she
was: the highwayman’s mistress. Nor had she imagined his daring feat of
yesterday, but how else were they to be together. Her mother would never
sanction a marriage between them, and if this was to be the only course ahead
she had to follow her heart. Francois had promised they would be wed in due
course, but such things took time to arrange and he’d barely had time to secure
a house, this house, and as far distant from her mother as possible. Though not
so distant at present, with her mother merely ten miles further west.

 
She nestled against his shoulder, his arm
loose about her, and mused the intimacy they’d shared throughout the night. The
passion of it all embraced in a warm glow, and the unending desire indulged at
will gave no fear of being discovered, no haste to re-clothe and scurry away
from scene of a secret liaison. Bliss indeed.

 
How oft she had left Francois to tidy a
chaise, a bed and sometimes make sure nothing was left in a meadow close to
Oakley to say they had made love there, for she once forgot a wrap, another
time a hair ribbon lost, and worst of all, a pendant necklace given to her by
her mother.

 
She smiled at a memory of Francois on hands
and knees feeling through long grasses in search of the pendant. And how
relieved they were when it came to light. She’d fled then as soon as it was
clasped about her neck. They had, without doubt, taken huge risks to be
together for snatched moments of wild passion.

 
She sensed him awake, for his arm came about
her and clasped tight. His fingers then drifted through her tousled hair,
pushing it back from her face. “You know that this is forever. No going back,”
he said, a tentative smile. “We will remain outcasts. Your mother will ensure
we receive no invites to formal or informal gatherings.”

 
“I shall miss Bath for the season, perhaps.
But in the time of my banishment I never missed it once, but we were so busy,
Hugh and I. There was so much to see, to do, and I fell in love, hopelessly in
love with Pembrokeshire.

 
“I believe you, and I can see this Hugh
fellow has a very small part of your heart, the rest mine.”

 
“He is sweet, and I wish him well in finding
a new love, for he, unlike you, cannot realise his passion for his lady love.
Hughe and I rode together a lot, just as I used to with Richard, and unlike
Leohne, I’ve always preferred horseback riding in the country than carriage
rides around Bath City streets and, I did hate promenading in the Pump Room. It
was so tedious, and one had to be polite and converse with terribly boring people.”

 
He laughed, hugged her tightly, his lips to
hers in fleeting kiss. “Then we are most suited, my darling girl, for I hated
dallying at royal court for days on end and greatly enjoyed riding to hounds
when able.” He danced his fingers down her bare arm, and slipped his hand
beneath the coverlet. “What say you to a morning trot, my wicked mistress?”

 
Her leg suddenly hauled over his
outstretched legs, his idea of a morning trot was not quite the same as she had
in mind. “Francois, you are simply outrageous in what you expect from a woman.”

 
“True, for I know women derive immense
pleasure from having the leaping head of a side-saddle between their thighs.
I’ve heard it said it’s much like having a fat cock in one’s crotch.”

 
“It is not, it’s nothing of the . . .”

 
A pistol fired outside on the lawn stole
their attention.

 
“What in the devil.” Francois pushed her
away, and clambered from the bed.

 
She watched as he strode to the window
brazen in naked glory, and she could not help but feel afraid as to who might
be out there. After all, her mother was an excellent shot.

 
Francois opened a window, and she heard
shouting, much of it incoherent for the man below seemed enraged. Thank God, it
was not her mother. Perhaps it was some neighbour venting spleen over some long
held grudge against the previous owner of Amport House. But she knew it was no
stranger when she heard, “Come out and show yourself, you libertine. Come out
and fight like a man.” It was Hugh’s voice.

 
“Go home boy, go home to your mother,” said
Francois.

 
“Francois, he’s no boy,” she said, leaping
from bed to floor. “Pray do not insult him, he’s a good man at heart.” She
pulled the coverlet from the bed and wrapped it around her shoulders. “He’s
little younger than you are.” Reluctant to show herself to Hugh she stood back
from the window. “Please, be kind to him.”

 
He turned to face her, his expression
unreadable. “You think I
want
to fight with a man such as he? A
country
 
. . . How do you say . . .
pumpkin?”

 
“Bumpkin,” she corrected, annoyed at
Francois, “and Hugh’s no bumpkin, he’s well-educated and I think you do him
great dishonour.”

 
She feared him when he looked the way he
looked now, for there was sense of malice in his dark eyes, and dark thoughts
were probably reeling in his mind. “This fool, love-sick fool deigns to
challenge Francois de Boviere. And you, did you not claim you and he were
friends, mere friends?”

 
“We were. We are. That is all we
ever
will be. I
swear
.”

 
Francois waved
her away. “Pity your mother had not the good sense to warn him of the danger of
throwing a gauntlet at a de Boviere.”

 
“I see you, Francois de Boviere,” declared
Hugh, as report of his pistol once again rang out across the bay. “Come down
here, choose your weapon and fight. Fight to the death.”

 
Francois turned back to the window. “Swords
it shall be.”

 
“So be it,” said Hugh.

 
Five minutes, allowance of five minutes and
I will be down to pluck your heart from your chest.”

 
“You cannot do this, Francois. He’s no match
for you,” she said, grasping at his arm.

 
He brushed her aside. “I did not seek this,
Diamonta. He came to me, and I presume your mother wished me dead, and this
fool man seeks to win your hand in marriage.”

 
“He doesn’t love me, he’s in love with
someone else.” Francois ignored her and hauled on his breeches. “Please,
please
,
don’t do this.” His boots were next, and he didn’t bother with a shirt. She
grabbed his arm. “Listen to me, Hugh’s sweet, and I would not want him harmed,
not for any thing, and certainly not over me and you.”

 
Francois prised her fingers from his arm,
and cast her hand aside. “You expect me to walk away a coward?”

 
“No, I want you to ignore his insult, let me
get dressed, and I shall talk to him. I can get him to see reason, that to be
with you is what I want, and that I love you. I know I can make him understand
and make him go home.”

 
“It is
too
late, Diamonta,” he said,
striding toward the door. “The challenge taken I duel. No more to be said.”

 
Oh God, this could not be allowed to happen.
Francois was too skilled in swordsmanship for someone like Hugh. She
frantically searched the room for clothes discarded on the previous evening.
There was no time to don a corset, nor could she fuss with her appearance, for
getting dressed in order to appear decent before other men took longer than
anticipated.

 
Francois voice suddenly drifted on the warm
morning breeze. “You intend to duel a coat on your back? Come, dear fellow, do
me the honour of a fair fight. As you see, I come prepared for your blade to do
its worst.”

 
His words caused iced shivers to ripple down
her spine, for he was naked from the waist up. Hugh, a big man with powerful
arms, might not appear much of a threat but a lucky thrust could see him the
victor, though it would have to be a miracle thrust.