She broke his eye contact. “I am strange,” she said with a smile before letting it fade from her lips as she spoke her next words. “It is not the same thing.”
He watched her, still pressing closer, unable to stop. “A man would be lucky to have you,” he said.
She laughed away his words. “You are being kind,” she replied. “But now it is my turn to ask a question.”
Why didn’t she believe him, he wondered. Did he not seem sincere? He wanted to press further but instead acquiesced, still afraid of pushing her too far. “Alright,” he said finally.
With his assent, her brashness returned. “Why,” she began with a teasing smile, “do you wait for me to go to bed each night in the towns? Do you fear I will run off with your horse?”
He stared at her for a long moment. “I thought it was obvious,” he said, looking into her eyes as bright as the stars. “I want you to see that I go to bed alone.”
She had come to the end of the pool by then, and they both stopped moving. The air around them was swollen and thick with moisture. Her hair glistened, her skin shimmered. Philippe watched her chest rise and her lips come apart. He ached with want. It hurt how badly he wanted to touch her. But his desire was far beyond physical. He wanted to kiss her, to wrap her legs around his waist, to be inside her, but more so he wanted to confess he felt things for her that he couldn’t describe. He didn’t know what was happening between them. He only knew he didn’t want it to end.
When he could fight it no longer, he moved to make some kind of contact. He edged closer to her, desperate to touch her. She was cornered now and couldn’t back away any further.
As if by reflex, her hand shot out, and she pressed the tips ofher fingers against his chest to stop him. They looked at each other for a long moment, and he felt his breathing deep and heavy. His heart thumped arrhythmically in his chest.
“Stay there,” she said, her voice soft but persistent, like the mist on the water.
He didn’t move closer, but nor did he back away. Instead, he grabbed her hand and pulled it tight against his chest, against his pounding heart. “Alex,” he whispered. He wanted to say everything he felt but could think of no words that would be right. Instead, he brought her hand up and touched her fingers to his lips. “I shall do anything you ask of me.”
The water grew too warm, and soon, they decided it was time to leave. They dressed quickly, enough words having already been said. It was a pleasant walk, though the moisture on their skin and cool evening air urged them not to linger. Some great wall had been broken, and there was an ease between them that hadn’t existed in a very long time.
As they approached the town and slipped through the streets once again, they spoke for the first time of their childhood, of the days when Alex chased Philippe through the gardens of Chevalerie. Soon they were on the doorstep of the inn, and it was time to end the night. The next day would take them to their final destination and require their wits to be intact. They passed through the tavern, unnoticed by the men loudly engaged one way or another and stood before the hallway that led one way to Philippe’s room and the other way to Alex’s. Philippe faced her.
“Well, goodnight,” he said. Suddenly, he leaned in and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before she could protest. Then he turned and disappeared into his room.
Alex stood in the hall alone, looking after him, her hand to the spot where he had kissed her. Her body was still damp and her clothes were heavy with moisture, but her heart was light. She smiled a private smile, still stroking her cheek. She turned to her room, her heart content. For the first time in many years, she could not think of one thing wrong with that man.
Chapter Fifteen
They set out to Ponce before the sun was up. The ride was furious as Philippe wanted to get there with daylight enough to see the positions of the outlying farms that had been attacked. They traveled a well-established road, everyone at the ready in case they came across the rebels. But Alex was sure they were in hiding now. The rebels wouldn’t be so carefully covert just to force a confrontation on the road now.
When they arrived in Ponce, with the sun just starting to move back down towards the horizon, Alex was struck by how quaint the town was. She’d spent little time in Ponce, her travels always leading her around or quickly through the town, but it had a picturesque charm to it. Like Aliette, it was built for hard winters, but lavender and white poppies hung in pots on every shop window making even these unpredictable days seem cheerful. It was a larger town than most and it served as a trade post with many of the northern cities. Ponce was headed by a Marquis who had fought beside the Duke many years ago. Together, the Marquis in the North and the Duke in the South typically kept tight control of the region.
The group traveled through the smooth-stoned streets, a happy bit of comfort for the horses no doubt, and past an ornate clock tower at the center of the city. It was at least twenty feet high and made of a vivid blue-grey granite typical to the region. As they approached, the clock struck the hour, filling the air with chiming bells.
The square was bustling with trade and several merchants offered Alex their wares as the party passed. Trade seemed good, but Alex noticed several empty stalls and some of the permanent shops had their windows boarded up. The main part of the town had indeed been protected from the rogue rebel attacks, probably at the vigilance of the Marquis and his guards, but the farms had proven vulnerable and the effects were seeping through the town walls. In fact, it was likely the rebels traded here and used the very city as their base.
Coming upon the tavern at the far end of the square, the men had a moment to rest and tend their horses, but as there was still daylight, they had work to do. Maurice and Daniel stayed near to help arrange lodging. Auguste and Sébastien went with Philippe to meet with town officials and tour the victimized farms, while Laurent took the brothers, Luc and Bernard, to speak with the captain of the guards. Henri was tasked with drawing up corrections to the maps for areas they had passed. The rest of the party were sent to replenish supplies. Alex alone hung back, having not been given a task, with nothing much to do.
At first, she was irritated that she had not been given a duty, but her moment would come the following day when they entered the caves. The plan was to map and track the series of caves at the base ofMont Verte. With any luck, they could isolate these men before they knew their hiding spot was compromised. If Philippe’s crew wasn’t lucky, they would have to flush the men out and hunt them. From what Alex knew, there were three entry points to the cave system. None were far and they each could be reached in less than half a day coming directly from Ponce. On the inside though, the trails split out like an ant hill, going in a myriad of directions. How quickly they cornered the rebels and how easily they were taken down would be based on how successfully they navigated the complex system of caves.
But that was tomorrow. For now, she headed to the tavern and dug in her bag for her old, tattered copy ofDiscours des Armesthat the Duchess had given her many years ago. She settled into a quiet corner and flipped through the familiar pages.
The tavern was a timbered building with high ceilings. There was one large fire pit at the center and two smaller ones at the edges of the room,but only the central one was burning. There were four heavy plank tables lined up two by two, and smaller tables against stone seating at the walls. The room itself was large and rectangular, with several open windows that allowed in plenty of light and a fresh breeze. Alex was tucked away with her knees up to her chest and her face in her book. There were few people in the tavern at this time, as the dinner hour was not yet upon them, but she could smell the beginnings of the stew for the night wafting out of the kitchen. The maid brought her a mug of cider and left her with a funny look. Alex was aware that she stuck out more during the day, but she shrugged it off.
Soon, she became engaged in a section about complicated swordplay between one rapier and two poleaxes to the point that she completely missed the figure standing before her. But her concentration was broken when she heard a voice she hadn’t heard in years.
“Look who it is,” a feminine voice trilled.
Alex looked up into the amused eyes of none other than Emily. Her childhood nemesis, Emily.
She was as beautiful as ever, but with a new maturity about her. Her hair was pulled back and she wore an elegant wine-colored gown, the cut suggesting herMadamestatus. Her blue eyes were just as crystal, her lips just as pouty as they had always been. She had grown but remained quite a vision to behold.
“Emily.” Alex tried to hide her surprise, causally putting her book down and standing to offer a proper greeting. She instantly felt a fool in her breeches in front of such a splendid creature. For a moment, the two stared at each other, Alex unsure of how to act. Then, most unexpectedly, Emily broke into a huge smile and took Alex in a warm hug.
Alex, surprised by the embrace, patted Emily’s back awkwardly. Emily broke the hug and stood back, still gripping Alex’s arms. “Look at you,” she said, looking Alex up and down with an approving gaze. “Simply amazing. I never would have guessed that you’d actually pursue a life on the road.”
