He turned to Tessa.“We’re leaving,” he said curtly.
Tessa gaped at him.“But what about this little one?”
He held out his arms.“Give her to me.”
Her eyes riddled with doubt, she handed the child over.“But—”
“Mount up,” he said.The boy held her horse still so she could mount, and Marcus flipped him a coin.The lad caught it, glanced at it and grinned.“Merci m’sieur.”
Tessa gave Marcus an unhappy look but, seeming to realize his temper was on a knife-edge, obeyed.With one hand he boosted her into the sidesaddle, the little girl clasped against his body with the other.“Now take the child.”He held her up and Tessa settled her onto her lap.
“Eh, what you doing, Englishman?”There was a spate of swearing from the door of the smithy.Marcus ignored it.
The smith staggered out toward them.“You can’t take that child.”
“Not your blood, not your problem,” Marcus said in an icy voice.
The smith spluttered for a minute, then a cunning expression spread over his face.“You can have her for ten gold Louis.”
Marcus ignored him.
“Five then,” the man shouted.
Marcus inclined his head to the woman.“Get yourself and your children to safety, madame.Ride on, Tessa.”He swung up onto his own horse and they rode out of the village together, the little girl clasped, wide-eyed but otherwise unperturbed, in Tessa’s arms.
“Filthy thieving Anglais!”the smith shouted after them.
As they reached a bend in the road, Marcus glanced back and was glad to see the woman and her children had vanished into their cottage.The smith stood swaying in the middle of the road, shaking his fist and roaring with frustration.
#
THEY AMBLED ALONG ATa steady walk.Any faster and little girl’s head would have jiggled on her skinny little neck.Besides, they weren’t in a hurry.She seemed quite content to be sitting on Tessa’s lap, gazing all around her with bright-eyed interest and occasionally glancing up at Tessa as if in reassurance.After a little while the child relaxed and wriggled back to lean into Tessa’s arms as if perfectly content to be there.
And oh, the feeling of holding the small, warm body in her arms.Tessa had never held a small child before, had never had the chance, and the feeling was indescribable.The trust, the acceptance.The surge of protectiveness she felt.
After so many years failing to conceive, she’d thought she’d learned to accept her barrenness, but now all the yearning for a child of her own returned.
From time to time, she felt Marcus’s gaze upon her.“All right?”he asked, one time when she’d noticed him watching her.
“Perfect,” she said.“I think she’s enjoying herself.”It was remarkable how quickly the child had adapted to being on horseback, how quickly she’d accepted being held by Tessa.
Marcus reached into his saddlebag and drew out a wrapped parcel.“Leftover bread and cheese,” he said.“A bit stale, but she won’t mind that.”He passed a slice of bread and a piece of cheese to Tessa who gave it to the little girl.
She sniffed each cautiously, then fell to chewing with a blissful expression.Marcus waited until she‘d finished, then passed Tessa a water flask.“She’ll be thirsty too.”
She drank the water thirstily.“Is there any more food?”Tessa asked.“I think she’s still hungry.”
“A bit, but who knows when she last ate.She’ll be sick if she eats too much too fast.It had better be small meals and often until she becomes used to not feeling hungry.”
They rode on.The further they got from the village, the more Tessa began to worry.What would become of this little scrap?It was all very well to have rescued her from the dreadful situation they’d found her in, but what now?She held the child close as they moved along.A convent with nuns?If there were any convents and nuns left after the revolution.
An hour or two out of the village, a brisk breeze sprang up.The little girl snuggled closer to Tessa.Goosebumps formed on her skinny little arms and legs.“Marcus,” Tessa said, “she’s getting cold.”
Marcus glanced across at her.The little one was shivering.Those rags were totally inadequate.And Tessa’s fashionable riding habit was designed to closely fit her slenderness.His coat was not so tight.“Pass her over.”He unbuttoned his coat, moved his horse closer and held out his arms.
The child stared at him in faint suspicion and clung to Tessa.“It’s all right,” Tessa said softly.“Go to Marcus.”
But of course the child spoke no English.
