The Highwayman's Mistress Read Online Free Page B

not ready I will insist you come away without them. The
danger is real Diamonta, and I cannot and will not have you take any more risk
than we already have. We must away, for those lights are no more than a quarter
mile distant. Who ever those men are, they have hounds and it would seem the
beasts have a scent. They were baying, and too damn close for comfort.”
      “You think they’ve picked up the scent of .
. . Oh my God. But of course, Francois was a joint master of the king’s hounds.
They will know him, and follow him wherever he may go.”
      She rushed to the door, which adjoined hall
to large inner room. There, a carved staircase ascended to second floor, fire
ablaze in the hearth lighting her way. At the foot of the staircase she called
for Francois, but he came in such a rush it was obvious he’d heard the hounds
in the distance.
      “They are ready,” he said, donning
gauntlets. “Take both of them with you for now, and I will rendezvous with you
somewhere along the way, presupposing I survive a contretemps with the handlers
of the hounds. I fear soldiers are intent on arrest of I, a known fugitive
along with Angelica and Anna Marie. If I leave this instant I can lead the
hounds away and afford you more time to get clear of the forest and safe en
route to the coast. He kissed her on the cheek, and further said, “Do not stop
in villages, and be wary in Vernon.” He then turned and took leave by way of a
dark passage with candelabra in hand.
      She touched her cheek, his kiss as though
having branded her flesh. But his words of warning started ringing in her ears.
No stopping in villages, people too nosy. Be careful in the town, but food . .
. They had to eat, drink. No, no matter how hungry they must try to survive on
meagre ration.
      Angelica appeared at the top of the
staircase devoid of powdered face and rouge, well-worn cloak over her arm and a
small cloth-wrapped bundle in hand. She was sensibly wearing a very plain gown
of dark blue cotton, no frills, no bows, no pretty trailing ribbons, and little
black buckled slippers on her feet. “Will I pass as a servant?”
      “My goodness, your hair. What have you
done?”
      “I cut it off a little and tied it back,
see.”
      She rushed down the staircase, swirled
about, and true enough her dark locks were now no more than shoulder length and
secured with a cotton cord. Anna Marie, on the other hand in stark contrast to
Angelica’s dark hair and dark eyes, quite fair of face and fair of hair and had
obviously refused to have her hair cut. It hung in a coil draped over her
shoulder almost to her waist, and her silk gown though hanging straight it was
still a little flamboyant for a mere servant.
      Angelica laughed, which seemed so at odds
with their present circumstance of soldiers and or militiamen on their trail. “ You ,
Miss Whitaker,” she said, a sweeping curtsy, “will have to say Anna Marie is a
little simple, and likes to pretend she is a princess.”
      “I hope we can evade any questions, for
Francois has given warning to avoid villages and to be very careful in Vernon.”
      Anna Marie muttered something indiscernible,
and Angelica turned on her for she was sufficient close to hear what was said.
“I am in two minds to leave you here, you ungrateful good-for-nothing.”
      “Good-for-nothing,” screamed Anna Marie. “I
am a Duke’s granddaughter, and will have you treat me with . . . “
      “All the more reason to keep your mouth
shut,” said Angelica, cutting her short, “and it is most wise to play the
simpleton if you wish to keep your head.”
      “Ladies, please ,” interjected
Richard, the door held wide. “We leave now or we may all be minus our heads by
morning.”
      His outburst worked, for Anna Marie flew
past him and out into the hall. By the time they reached the coche she was
already settled inside and quite impatient to be off. Richard assisted Angelica
to climb up beside the coachman, her