The Rake to Redeem Her. Julia Justiss
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waiting below to help me escort her home.’
‘Thank you, sir.’ Clara dipped Ransleigh a curtsy—the first sign of respect she’d accorded him. ‘I never expected such a thing, but I can’t deny it makes me feel easier.’
Surprised, touched and humbled, Elodie felt like curtsying, too. She should have realised it was necessary to guarantee Clara’s safety after their departure. Instead, this man she’d viewed as concerned only with achieving his own purposes had had the forethought—and compassion—to arrange it.
In her experience, aristocrats such as St Arnaud viewed servants as objects put on earth to provide for their comfort, like horses or linens or furniture. Her cousin would never have seen Clara as a person, or concerned himself with her welfare.
Ransleigh had not only anticipated the possible danger, he’d arranged to protect Clara after their departure, when the maid was of no further use to him.
She couldn’t prevent her opinion of his character from rising a notch higher.
Still, she mustn’t let herself be lured into trusting in his thoroughness, competence and compassion—qualities that attracted her almost as much as his physical allure. They were still a long way from Paris.
Before Elodie could sort out her tangled thoughts, Clara had wrapped herself in her cloak. Elodie’s previous high spirits vanished as she faced parting for ever from the last, best friend she possessed.
‘I suppose this is farewell, madame,’ Clara said, a brave smile on her face. ‘I wish you a safe journey—and joy, when you get to Paris at last!’
Unable to summon words, Elodie hugged her. The maid hugged her back fiercely, blinking away tears when at last Elodie released her. ‘I’ll try to send word after I’m settled.’
‘Good. I’d like to know that you were home—and safe,’ she added, that last with a meaningful look at Ransleigh.
‘Shall we go, fraulein?’ Ransleigh asked.
Smiling, Clara gave her a curtsy. ‘Goodbye, madame. May the blessed angels watch over you.’
‘And you, my dear friend,’ Elodie replied.
‘After you, fraulein,’ Ransleigh prompted gently as they both stood there, frozen. ‘Your soldier awaits.’
Nodding agreement, Clara stepped towards the door, then halted to look at him searchingly. ‘Maybe I was wrong. Maybe madame should trust you.’
Much as she told herself that after a lifetime of partings and loss, she should be used to it, Elodie felt a painful squeezing in her chest as she listened to their footsteps echo on the stairs. When the last sound faded, she ran to the window.
Peeping around the curtain, so as to be hidden from the view of anyone who might look up from the street, she watched three figures emerge from the inn: Ransleigh, Clara and a burly man who looked like a prizefighter. As they set off through the darkness, the thought struck her that Ransleigh, moving with the fluid, powerful stride of a predator on the prowl, seemed the more dangerous of the two men.
Elodie’s spirits sagged even lower as she watched Clara disappear into the darkness. The maid had been her friend, companion and saviour for more than a year.
Now, she’d be alone with Ransleigh. For better or worse.
She got herself this far, she’d make it the rest of the way, she told herself bracingly. And at the end of this journey … was Philippe.
With that rallying thought, she settled in to wait for Ransleigh’s return.
Chapter Seven
The maid conveyed safely to her lodging where, fortunately, there had been no one waiting to intercept her, Will left Heinrich on watch and headed back to the inn. Their room above the entry was dark when he glanced up at the window before entering.
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