At first he wasn’t sure who the others were. Ah, it was his brother Bran! His closest friend, connected by a bond that was too deep for words. Were his parents there? Yes, they were. He couldn’t remember their names, but the caring and protection he felt was familiar and warmed his heart. He almost wept with the knowledge that he had people who loved him.
He felt his mind becoming clearer and realized that he had reasons to live. He must work his way out of this poisonous weakness.
The door to his cell opened and Bastien entered. He stopped and frowned, his eyes narrowing. “You’re connected to your friends by mind touch. Can’t have that.”
Bastien grabbed Cade’s wrist and sent a blast of pain into his prisoner. Cade gasped as the assault tore him away from his family and destroyed the sense of well-being he’d been given.
Then he felt Tamsyn’s power moving through him, cooling the pain and saving his sanity. He could see her very clearly. Petite and blond and achingly beautiful. She held his soul as he slid again into sleep . . .
It was still daylight when he woke again. Realizing that lying here like a lump of coal was doing him no good, he gathered his strength and sat up, then stood, the chain rattling. He couldn’t move far, but he began to improvise exercises within the range of what he could do. Stretching his limbs. Standing by the stone wall and doing push-ups against it to build his strength. He had a sense that exercising was a basic part of his nature. He had always been strong and fit, and even these simple exercises gave him more a sense of himself.
Bastien had said he was Caden Tremayne. Tamsyn called him Cade.
He must find his way back to her.
CHAPTER13
When Tamsyn returned to her room, she dug into her carry bag for the coded list of potential gifted allies. The list was divided into geographical regions with half a dozen listings for the Calais area. Frowning, she decoded the names. It had sounded as if Rhys was saying, “Bar . . .” when he reminded her to check this list.
There were two surnames that began with “Bar . . .”: Jacques Bardin and Marie Barriere. She gazed at the two names and Barriere’s drew her attention. She had a vague recollection that the name meant something like gatekeeper, which was appropriate for a gifted ally. Madame Marie Barriere.
She then decoded the address. Her brows arched when she saw that it was listed as Madame Barriere’s Tearoom, and it was on a nearby street.
Since Tamsyn was going to be moving about in public, she needed to make herself easy to overlook. Her carry bag contained a temporary color rinse that would make her hair an unremarkable brown. Her boring tan bonnet and brown mantle were good, but she also needed to get more boy’s clothing because she would be unable to ride around the country as a lone female without drawing attention.
The one male outfit she had needed to be augmented with more rugged clothing, suitable for riding, climbing, and possibly breaking into houses. There should be used-clothing shops in the town; she’d visit them with the explanation that she was buying for her young brother.
She also was going to need a horse to ride around the countryside. Madame Barriere might be able to point her toward a reliable dealer. At the same time, she would keep an eye out for a mount that would suit Cade.
But the first step was to call on Madame Barriere. She would dye her hair on another day. The most important part of going unnoticed was to think herself plain. It was a trick she’d developed to avoid the attention of annoying men. Cade had said once that when she wanted to be overlooked, it was as if she’d doused her candle.
Cade.She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting off a wave of painful memories. They had done so many things together for so many years. The thought of losing him put a hole in her heart.
She reminded herself sharply that he wasn’t lost, just in trouble. She would find him and heal him, and they’d go back to London, where life would return to normal.
Wouldn’t it?
She made her plans and a list of things she’d need to buy, then went to bed. She had much to do the next day.
* * *
After breakfast the following morning, Tamsyn went out in her plainest mode and did more exploring. She found a used-clothing shop and bought a sturdy outfit for her younger brother, who was about her size.
At the edge of town, she found a large livery stable that also sold horses. She told the owner that she was interested in buying a mount for her younger brother. He smiled indulgently. “Take a look around the stable, mademoiselle. The stalls of the horses that are for sale are marked, but be careful not to open any doors. A restless horse can be dangerous. If you need advice about which of the mounts are best, feel free to ask me.”
“I’ll be careful,” she said. “Horses are so large and frightening!”
She headed into the stables without mentioning that the male members of her family usually took her along when they were considering buying new mounts because she had very good instincts about horses. The dealer had a dozen or so full-sized riding horses for sale. She intended to look for a smaller equine since she was small herself, but she was drawn to a sizable white gelding called Zeus. He had a good temperament and a look of stamina, and he would be up to carrying Cade’s weight if necessary. There was a smaller chestnut that might do well for her later, but first the white gelding.
When she left the livery, she told the owner that the white gelding might do well for her brother, and she would send him over to look at it for himself in the next few days.
The owner’s brows arched. “You have good judgment. Zeus is the best mount I have for sale. Sound limbs and good conformation and very well trained.”
“I’ve always fancied white horses. So pretty,” she said artlessly, thereby persuading the owner that she didn’t know much about horses.
After dropping her clothing purchases back in her room, she headed to Madame Barriere’s Tearoom. It was a pretty, feminine space with colorful calico curtains, the scents of good baking, and small vases of spring flowers on each of the mismatched tables. It was well into the afternoon and there were only two other customers, elderly women who were chatting like old friends.
The tearoom was presided over by a competent-looking young woman who watched Tamsyn’s entrance with mild interest. Tamsyn approached her, asking, “Are you Madame Marie Barriere?”
