He grinned, acknowledging the hit.
‘Very well, I will admit that it is in most men’s nature to be a tyrant if they are not checked.’ He turned slightly and raised his glass to her. ‘A truce, Lady Cassandra?’
She returned his salute. ‘A truce, Monsieur Doulevant.’
They returned their attention to the food, but the atmosphere had changed. Cassie no longer felt at odds with her companion and she was a great deal happier.
A basket of logs had been placed near the fireplace, but the size of the hearth was such that it was soon emptied and by the time the farmer’s boy brought over their bedding and carried away the empty dishes the room was growing chilly.
‘We should get some sleep,’ said Raoul. ‘We will have another busy day tomorrow.’
There were two sacks of straw. Raoul placed one on either side of the kitchen table and handed Cassie one of the two blankets that had been provided.
‘Your bed awaits, my lady.’
She tried to make herself comfortable, but the sack was not well filled and the straw flattened quickly beneath her. She could not help a sigh that sounded very loud in the quiet, echoing kitchen.
‘Is it not luxurious enough for you, my lady?’
Tiredness made her irritable and she snapped back.
‘This is not what I expected when I left Verdun.’
‘I am surprised your husband agreed to your travelling alone.’
‘He did not agree. He’s—’
She bit off the words.
‘He what?’ Raoul asked suspiciously. ‘He does not know?’
‘That is true.’
It was not exactly a lie. Cassie knew it would sink her even further in his estimation, yet she was unwilling to admit she was a widow. She clung to the belief that there was some small protection in having a husband.
‘But of course. You told me yourself that you grew bored at Verdun. Tiens, I feel even more sympathy for your spouse, madame. You have quite literally abandoned him, have you not?’
The darkness was filled with his disapproval. It cut her and she responded by saying sharply, ‘That is not your concern.’
‘No indeed. Mon Dieu, but you are a heartless woman!’
‘You know nothing about me!’
Tell him, Cassie. Explain how you remained with your husband, endured the pain and humiliation of knowing he only wanted your fortune.
Pride kept her silent. Better Raoul should think her heartless than a fool. She turned on her side and pulled the thin blanket a little closer around her. ‘Oh, how I pray there will be a ship in Rouen that will carry me all the way to England,’ she muttered angrily. ‘The sooner we can say goodbye to one another the better.’
He gave a bark of bitter laughter.
‘Amen to that, my lady!’
It took the best part of the morning to repair the chaise. Discussions with the farmer elicited the information that their meandering route, chosen to minimise the chances of encountering soldiers on the road or passing an army garrison, meant that they were a good half-day’s drive away from Rouen and he doubted they would reach the city before nightfall, but Cassie was as anxious as Raoul to press on and echoed his refusal to remain another night.
She climbed into the chaise and watched Raoul scramble up on to the long-tailed bay. She was thankful he was not in the carriage with her, she did not enjoy travelling in the company of one who disapproved of her so blatantly. He saw her as a rich and spoiled lady who had run away from her marriage when the novelty had begun to pall. It would be useless to explain, because she knew that men saw these things differently. A wife was a mere chattel, was she not?
Cassie looked up as the chaise slowed. The road was winding its way between dilapidated cottages at the edge of a village. Through the window she watched Raoul exchange a few words with the postilion before bringing his horse alongside the carriage. Cassie let down the glass.
‘This is Flagey, it is very small and the post boy tells me there is a much better inn about an hour from here where we may change horses and dine,’ he informed her. ‘If we do not tarry he thinks we may still make Rouen tonight.’
‘Very well, let us push on. I—’ Cassie broke off as a loud rumble, like thunder, filled the air. It shook the ground and the carriage jolted as the horses sidled nervously. ‘What on earth was that?’
Raoul was already looking towards the cluster of buildings ahead of them. Above the roofs a cloud of dust was rising, grey as smoke. The bay threw up its head as the church bell began to toll.
‘An accident of some sort,’ he said, kicking his horse on. Cantering around the bend, he saw that a large building had collapsed on the far side of the village square. People were already congregating at the scene. Some of the women were wailing, a few holding crying babies, but most were helping the men to drag away the stones and rubble.
Raoul threw the horse’s reins to a woman with a babe in her arms and immediately ran forward to help, casting his jacket aside as he went.
‘How many men are in there?’ he demanded as he joined the rescuers.
One of the men stopped to drag a grimy sleeve across his brow.
‘Eight, ten, perhaps more. ’Tis the tithe barn. They were working to secure the roof before the winter when the timbers collapsed.’
Raoul joined the group, scrabbling at the wreckage. The dust was still rising from the debris, making everyone cough. It was clear that the roof had collapsed inwards, bringing down parts of the old walls. Muffled shouts and screams could be heard, so there were survivors, but Raoul knew they must reach them and quickly.
The first man they pulled out had a broken arm, but the next was badly crushed and groaning pitifully. An old woman standing beside Raoul crossed herself before trying to drag away another rotted timber. There would be more crushed bodies, more broken limbs.
‘You will need a doctor. Or better still, a surgeon.’
‘Dr Bonnaire is ten miles away, monsieur.’ The old woman took a moment to straighten up, pressing her hand to her back. She nodded to a group of young men working frantically to pull away more stones. ‘Jean can go, he is the fastest runner.’
‘Take the horse.’
Raoul heard Cassandra’s voice and turned to see her leading the bay forward.
She said again, ‘Take the horse. It will be much quicker to ride.’
‘Then let me go,’ said an older man, stepping up. ‘I can handle a horse and Jean’s strength would be better used getting those poor fellows out.’
‘Good idea,’ agreed Raoul.
He watched the man mount up and gallop away, calculating how long it would take the doctor to get there.
‘What can I do?’ asked Cassandra.
‘Where is the carriage?’
‘I have told the post boy to drive to the auberge at the far end of the village. What