‘I didn’t realise there would be cliffs,’ Thea observed as she reached his side. Thankfully her voice sounded perfectly normal, although she suspected she was blushing. It was strange to have intimate knowledge of his body like that, even more disconcerting than the fact that he had caressed her breast.
‘They are not as high as at Dover. We’ll be in Dieppe soon.’ Rhys sounded perfectly normal, too. He could not have realised that she had been awake as long as she had, or perhaps men were completely blasé about that kind of thing.
But he had not been indifferent about that hectic moment on the quayside in Dover. A sharp pain made her realise that she was biting her lower lip. The only thing to be done was to seem entirely unconscious of any reaction on either of their parts, and Rhys would soon realise that she had no interest in him as anything but an old friend.
Polly brought her tea and she leaned on the other side of the mast, scanning the coast for anything particularly foreign and exotic. ‘It looks just like England,’ she complained as they swung into the harbour.
‘That doesn’t.’ Rhys nodded to a life-sized crucifix set up to dominate the quayside. ‘And look at the costumes. Do you think they are fishwives?’
‘They are exceptionally clean if they are,’ Thea observed as the crowd on the quay came into focus. ‘Not like Billingsgate at all!’ The women had tight-waisted bodices with vast skirts billowing out and finishing well above their white-stockinged ankles. They wore snow-white caps with flaps hanging down to their shoulders and, as the sails came down and the ship lost way, Thea could see the glint of gold in every ear.
‘So many soldiers,’ she added as they glided closer. The crowd was full of men in greatcoats, military-looking jackets, cocked hats—all studying the ship and its human cargo with sullen faces. Thea was suddenly very grateful that she was not attempting this journey by herself. They had been at war with these people for years and, it seemed, peace had not made much difference. ‘I thought the army would have been disbanded,’ she added, trying for a note of bright interest and not apprehension. She had fought down her fears about leaving home, but it had never occurred to her to worry about dangers beyond escaping the shores of England.
‘It has, by and large. Those aren’t soldiers, at least not anymore. These are just conscripts who have returned home. Look around, virtually everyone is wearing some piece of cast-off uniform, even some of the women. They’ve been at war for years, poor devils, and they probably don’t have much else.’
‘Is there a hotel we will go to?’ Thea saw jostling porters, lads with barrows, and tried to start thinking in French. It had never been her best subject, much to the disapproval of her governess.
‘Of course. It is all arranged. We will be met—in fact, that must be the agent there.’ Rhys raised a hand and a tall, thin man in a dark suit of clothes lifted his hat in acknowledgement.
The ship bumped alongside, almost level with the top of the quay. Ropes were thrown and tied, a ladder let down the few feet to the deck and Rhys went up, then reached out to help Thea, who twitched her veil into place.
‘Monsieur le comte!’ The man was pushing his way to their side.
‘No earls in France,’ Rhys observed to Thea. ‘With or without their heads. It appears I have become a count.’
‘François le Brun, at your service, monsieur le comte.’ He whipped his hat off again as he saw Thea. ‘And madame la comtesse! I had not expected the honour.’
‘Non, monsieur. Je suis…’
‘This is Madame Smith,’ Rhys said firmly in French that was considerably better than hers. ‘A family friend I am escorting to Paris.’
‘But of course!’ Le Brun’s hands fluttered in urgent signals to indicate his total willingness to oblige. He was desperate to please, Thea realised. The returning English must offer employment and hope after difficult times. ‘It is as monsieur le comte says. Another chamber will be no problem. I have taken the entire hôtel for the convenience of monsieur le comte.’
He clicked his fingers and half a dozen men lined up beside him. ‘These will unload your carriages. I have engaged two post boys and hired horses of the best quality.’ He grimaced. ‘At least, of the best quality that is available these days.
‘If you will follow me.’ He turned, apparently unconcerned by the fight that had broken out between porters over who would load their luggage onto whose barrows. Hodge, in French almost as good as his master’s, was laying down the law to some effect and Rhys did not appear concerned, so Thea took his arm and allowed herself to be led through the crowd.
‘They are staring,’ she muttered in English.
‘Of course. We are still a novelty and no doubt they are studying us for the latest in English fashions.’
‘Then they will be sadly disappointed in me,’ she retorted. ‘How long are we staying? I must buy one new gown at the very least. I cannot bear this drab old thing for much longer.’
‘It is fine, surely?’ Rhys glanced down at her skirts, protruding limply between the openings of her cloak.
Either he was completely indifferent to fashion or he simply expected her to wear something dowdy. Probably the latter. ‘No, it is not fine. I chose it because it is so dull and worn. I had no wish to draw attention to myself in England. It is my gardening dress and the last thing Papa would expect me to be seen out in. I took the precaution of hiding some of my newest gowns so the description of what I was wearing would be wrong.’
‘You would make an excellent spy,’ Rhys observed. ‘But can you not endure your limp brown skirts until Rouen? I was intending to spend just the one night here, but two there. The shops should be better, too.’
‘Very well, it does seem sensible. But you are going to disappoint Monsieur le Brun when he has taken over an entire hotel just for one night.’ The Frenchman paused to wave them on with a flourish. Behind them, she could hear Hodge nagging the porters to take care with his lordship’s luggage. She had seen less dramatic circus processions.
‘Monsieur le Brun has been promised a generous fee, so he will be advised to put a good face on it whether I stay ten minutes or ten days.’ Rhys regarded their French guide’s flamboyant gestures through narrowed eyes. ‘This hotel had better be a good one.’
‘He did not believe I was just a friend,’ Thea murmured, tweaking her veil. ‘Perhaps the hotelier will not approve….’
‘The hotelier will approve even if we choose to hold an orgy for two, import every one of the Regent’s mistresses or spend the evening playing whist,’ Rhys said with an edge that startled her. ‘It is none of his damn business. I am Palgrave, and if he does not know what that means then he will discover a startling shortage of English visitors of rank over the next few years.’
I am Palgrave. He would never have said that six years ago, and certainly not with that cool threat behind it. He had never spoken to her in that way and suddenly she saw him as others did: an earl, a powerful man by inheritance and his own force of will. Unnerved by his irritation, she stammered, ‘I-it is just that I had not regarded what people might think, provided no one recognised me. And now I feel a trifle… I would not wish to cause you embarrassment.’
‘Cause me embarrassment?’ Rhys stopped dead and frowned down at her, six foot plus of exasperated masculinity. ‘I doubt anything would put me to the blush, but you are my responsibility now.’
‘Th-thank you.’ Thea had to take a little run to catch up with him as he strode off across the cobbles. ‘I had no intention of being a nuisance.’
‘We will talk when we are alone,’ Rhys said. ‘Here, give me your arm, these stones will turn your ankle.’
In other words, I am a nuisance. It felt very much like being summoned to Papa’s study