be truthful with each other. I’m in need of amusement and you, I imagine, are a little adventuress who will take whatever comes her way.’
He grabbed her hand and pulled her towards him. In a moment his arms were round her waist, a gesture shocking in its intimacy. She shrank from him, but his nearness was making her senses falter. He pressed closer and she felt her body begin to tingle. For a moment they stayed body to body, then quickly she sprang away.
Her face was pink with vexation. ‘How dare you touch me!’
‘Very easily, I’ll think you’ll find. Women are made for pleasure and you’ll provide it amply.’
He made as if to recapture her in his arms, but was interrupted by the door opening. The landlord arrived bearing a ham, eggs, some devilled kidneys and toast. A servant followed with a large pot of steaming coffee.
‘There we are, sir,’ the innkeeper sang out, determinedly ignoring what he had seen as he came in the door. ‘Just the job for a chilly May morning. But good travelling weather, I’ll be bound.’ He continued to spill out words while Amelie retreated to a corner of the room, trying hard to quell her jumping heart.
When the landlord had left, Gareth sat down at the table and began calmly to carve slices of ham and place them carefully on the two plates.
‘Come to the table, Amelie, you must eat,’ he coaxed. ‘No point in starving yourself—you have a long road ahead.’
The glorious sense of irresponsibility that he’d known earlier had gone, but he was still enjoying himself. He had no idea who he was with or what would happen. But this beautiful girl had felt warm and tremulous when he pulled her close and he looked forward to repeating the sensation. It was escape that he needed right now and she had literally dropped into his arms, ready to furnish it.
Amelie resolutely refused even to look at the food.
‘Come to the table!’ His tone was now peremptory.
She remained sitting in the corner of the room. ‘I’m not hungry,’ she said in a freezing voice.
‘Don’t be silly. Of course you’re hungry. Come, I wish to eat the ham, not you. Sit down—or I’ll make you.’
Alarmed at any further physical contact, she abandoned her station and went with as much dignity as she could muster towards the table. Perching at the corner, as far away as possible, she nibbled at the ham and a slice of bread. The coffee was mercifully strong and hot and she gratefully downed two cups. He ate more leisurely as though he had the entire morning to finish his breakfast. And when he’s eaten his fill, she thought, I’ll be next on the menu.
She was going to have to make her getaway fast if she were to avoid another dreadful scene. She couldn’t rely on the landlord to come in so opportunely again. Indeed, he’d had an unpleasantly knowing look in his eye as he’d laid the food down in front of his patron. He would do nothing to help her; she would have to save herself.
She cleared her throat. ‘Why do you wish to go to Bristol, Mr Wendover?’
‘Why should that concern you?’
‘If we are to be travelling companions today, it might be sensible to get to know each other a little.’ She wondered anxiously if he would take the bait and relax his guard.
‘A change of tune? When I tried to get to know you, you weren’t too keen,’ Gareth said caustically.
‘I’m sorry for that, but I find this room a little overheated and when you pulled me towards you …’ her voice wavered at the thought ‘.I felt faint.’
‘Ah, that’s how it was. Well, I certainly don’t want a fainting woman on my hands, so I’ll open this window a little and then we can be comfortable. Come here, Amelie, and let me look at my prize.’
Steeling herself, she walked slowly towards him. He stood up, facing her, and smiled. She realised with a jolt that when he smiled, his whole face was transformed from a threatening harshness to engaging warmth. His blue eyes had lost their steeliness and smiled, too, suggesting humour and good nature. His white teeth were even and his lips full. She stared at him, enjoying the picture he presented.
‘I’m not surprised you’ve had trouble from your employers,’ he broke into her rapt contemplation. ‘You’re far too lovely ever to be let near the average young man.’ He laughed softly. ‘But I’m hardly the average man, so we need have no fears on that score.’
She woke abruptly from her dreamlike state and realised the danger she was in. Picking up her reticule, she fanned herself energetically. ‘I’m sorry, sir, but I’m still very warm in here. And I wonder if the ham was all it should be?’
‘And what exactly do you mean by that?’ he exploded. The moment was gone.
‘Just that the ham had a slight taint, I thought. But ham never really agrees with me, so perhaps it was fine.’
‘If it doesn’t agree with you, what the devil do you mean by eating it?’
‘You insisted, Mr Wendover. I was scared of you, so I ate it. But now I don’t feel at all well.’ She pressed her handkerchief artistically to her mouth and closed her eyes. ‘I think I might really faint this time.’
Gareth cursed under his breath and shouted for the landlord, who came suspiciously quickly. She was sure the salacious old man had been lurking outside the door, waiting to see what would occur.
‘My companion is unwell, landlord, your ham seems to be to blame,’ Gareth said tersely.
‘That can’t be right, sir, the ham was freshly cured. Mrs Fawley would be very upset to think that aspersions had been cast on her ham. It’s the best in the city. You won’t get better anywhere.’
‘Yes, yes,’ said Gareth irascibly, ‘that’s as may be. My friend here is feeling ill and needs to lie down. Do you have a bedchamber where she can be accommodated?’
‘Yes, sir, of course, I’ll call my wife immediately.’
Mrs Fawley soon appeared on the doorstep with a martial look in her eyes. It was obvious she had overheard the conversation and was ready to defend her ham. But when she saw Amelie, small and white, and looking decidedly unwell, she took pity on her.
‘I’ve got my own opinion as to what’s made the young miss faint,’ she sniffed, and escorted Amelie to a small but clean bedchamber on the next floor, overlooking the courtyard.
Once on her own, she locked the door and laid herself on the bed. She was exhausted by the morning’s adventures. It seemed that she’d thwarted one persecutor only to fall into the hands of another; she’d only very narrowly eluded her would-be ravisher. It was second nature for her to mistrust any man and she wondered at her stupidity in imagining that Gareth Wendover would be no threat to her.
When she’d first seen him he’d appeared no more harmful than a lively reveller returning from a night of pleasure—untidy and unfashionable and probably a little the worse for drink—but for some reason she’d trusted him. Only after he’d used her so roughly, dragging her along the street, throwing her into the hackney and then—certainly best forgotten—pulling her into his arms, had she realised what a foolish mistake she’d made.
And yet even then, she admitted shamefacedly, there’d been temptation to remain in his embrace, to let those strong arms encircle her. Of course that was simply a reaction to the alarms of the last few days, but thank goodness the landlord had come in when he had. And now her pretence of illness had saved her again, although for a short while only. She was sure that Gareth would be knocking on the door very soon and demanding admittance. And a bedchamber was an even worse place to meet him than the parlour downstairs. She had to be gone by the time he arrived.
She quickly washed her hands and face and tidied her hair in the tarnished mirror, which hung lopsidedly on one wall. She’d noticed as the landlady escorted her up to this floor that there was a second stairway leading