fastened the stays and then stepped away to resume dressing. ‘I don’t intend to lose another English operative to Fouché’s men.’
She donned her petticoat and reached for her gown. ‘Why burden yourself with me since I cannot please you in any way?’
‘You pleasing me or not is irrelevant.’
She sighed. ‘Look, I know you mean well …’
‘I mean to get you back to England.’
‘You can’t; not without my co-operation.’
‘Your co-operation would be useful, but it isn’t essential.’
Claudine stared at him. ‘I’m not sure I care for the implications of that.’
‘You’re right; you wouldn’t care for them at all.’
The words were casually spoken but something in his expression gave her pause. She had no idea what he was capable of and somehow didn’t care to test the matter. He saw her uncertainty and nodded.
‘You’ll come with me, Claudine.’
Unsettled by that steady gaze she looked away and glanced round for her hairpins. They were strewn across the floor, scattered in the haste of undressing. She knelt and began to retrieve the nearest ones. Although fully dressed now he made no attempt to help. Claudine, quietly fuming, continued the search, only too aware of the booted feet in her line of vision and the powerful figure above whose gaze seemed to burn into her back. The symbolism of their current positions didn’t escape her. She was equally sure it hadn’t escaped him either. Gritting her teeth she concentrated on her task. Eventually, when she had located enough pins, she got to her feet and moved away to the small mirror above the washstand.
For a moment or two she was startled by the face reflected there; by the rosy flush along her skin and the new sparkle in her eyes. Her lips were redder too and slightly swollen now. She could still feel Duval’s mouth on hers, the touch of his hands on her naked flesh. Those five minutes in his arms had left her with an aching need, with feelings she could not afford and dared not pursue.
Confused now, and annoyed with herself as well, she turned her attention to the task in hand. However, without a brush or a comb the options were limited. Moreover, she could still feel the weight of Duval’s gaze, intimate and unsettling. Hurriedly she drew her hair back and twisting it into a knot on the crown of her head, secured it there. The mirror revealed errant wisps curling around her neck and face. It was far from perfect but it would have to do.
Duval held out her cloak. He settled it over her shoulders and fastened it with unhurried deliberation. The gesture was both practical and quietly assertive. It was also unnerving, like his closeness now and the warmth of his fingers brushing against her skin.
He surveyed his handiwork and stepped back, meeting her gaze. ‘Come.’
Chapter Three
Having ascertained that the coast was clear Duval led her downstairs and through the house to the back door. Madame Renaud was waiting here. Duval dropped a kiss on her cheek.
‘Thank you. You were magnificent.’
‘From what I could see, you weren’t so bad yourself.’ She raised an eyebrow.
He grinned. ‘I take that as a compliment.’
‘So you should.’ She glanced at Claudine and her eyes gleamed. ‘I knew I was right all along.’
‘Right about what?’ asked Duval.
‘She can tell you later. You must get out of here while you can.’
Claudine paused on the threshold. ‘Thank you for what you did today.’
‘All part of the service.’ Madame Renaud jerked her head towards the deserted street. ‘Now go.’
The night air felt like an icy slap and Claudine shivered, clutching the edges of the cloak tighter. As soon as she and her companion had crossed the threshold, the door closed leaving them alone. Hearing it, she let out a long breath, never more thankful to leave a place in her life. Now all that remained was to get rid of Duval and put her own plans into execution. She turned to face him.
‘I’m truly grateful for what you did in there, but this is where we part.’
For answer he resumed his grip on her arm. ‘You’ll do as you’re told, my girl. We’re not out of this yet, not by a long way.’
There was no way of knowing how far away the police were, and, without making the kind of scene that might attract unwelcome attention, Claudine had no choice now but to go along with Duval. They set off down the street, she almost running to keep pace with his longer strides. Neither one spoke. Once she tested his hold but it was like a vice. The physical contact was also a tangible reminder of what had passed. Every part of her being resonated to it and filled her with conflicting emotions. She pushed them away ruthlessly. What was past could not be altered. Just now she needed to focus all her attention on removing herself from the sphere of his unwelcome presence as soon as possible.
As they neared the end of the street she saw the waiting carriage. There was no way she was going any further.
‘Please, you must listen to me …’
He might have been stone deaf. She was bundled unceremoniously into the waiting vehicle and pushed on to a seat. She heard him speak to the driver before climbing in and taking the place opposite hers. The carriage moved away. Claudine glared at her companion.
‘How dare you do this?’
‘You appear incapable of rational thought,’ he replied, ‘so I’m doing the thinking for both of us.’
‘I don’t need you or anyone else to think for me. I told you I had my own plans.’
‘Well, now you’re going to follow mine instead.’
The cool arrogance of this assertion was breathtaking. It was on the tip of her tongue to deliver a blistering reply but she bit it back. The words would roll off him like water from a duck’s feathers. Instead she met his gaze.
‘Where are we going?’
‘St Malo,’ he replied.
‘St Malo! But that’s days away.’
As if he hadn’t heard the interjection he continued, ‘From there I will arrange a passage to Jersey and thence to England.’
She knew that the Channel Islands were a favoured route into France for the British intelligence services. Even so, the thought of being shut up for the best part of a week with this man was beyond bearing.
‘I’ll be safe enough once we are out of Paris. I can …’
‘You’re coming with me. Get used to the idea.’
The tone was implacable, forbidding. Further argument would be fruitless since he was clearly impervious to reason, so Claudine lapsed into fuming silence, directing her attention to the window instead, watching the blur of streets and buildings as they sped past.
‘Don’t try giving me slip either,’ he continued. ‘I would find you very quickly and you wouldn’t enjoy the consequences.’
She lifted her chin. ‘No, but I’m sure you would. However, I have to tell you that you’re doomed to disappointment there.’
‘It’s reassuring to know you have that much sense anyway.’
‘I’m glad to have set your mind at rest.’
He surveyed her curiously. ‘By the way, what did Madame Renaud mean when she said she was right?’
A wave of warmth flushed her neck and cheeks. ‘I … it was nothing. A private joke.’
‘Yet she said you would tell me.’