Regency High Society Vol 3. Elizabeth Rolls
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Bridie embroidered it. She was my nursemaid when I was a child,’ she explained when he raised an enquiring brow. ‘Now she’s my personal maid … housekeeper … you name it.’
‘What does the “F” stand for?’
A moment’s silence, then, ‘Fairchild.’ She grimaced. ‘I’ve Bridie to thank for that too!’ she informed him, her disgruntled tone evidence enough that she wasn’t best pleased. ‘Apparently she took one look at me and announced that I was the fairest child she’d ever set eyes on. My mother, much struck by this, as it happened to be her maiden name, decided it would be most appropriate, and as Papa had chosen my Christian name he allowed her to have her way.’
‘Fairchild,’ he echoed. ‘Yes, it suits you. It suits you very well.’
Half-suspecting him of mockery, Katherine paused in her tying of the makeshift bandage to cast him a suspicious glance. ‘There, that should hold,’ she announced, reaching for his shirt. ‘Hurry and get dressed. I don’t want you taking a chill on top of everything else.’
The garment was stained with blood, but he had no choice but to put it back on. Neither of them had a change of clothes, which, Katherine mused, didn’t appear to trouble Daniel to any great extent; but she knew it would begin to irk her unbearably if she was forced to remain in the same garments for any length of time. She wasn’t accustomed to going without meals either. Not a morsel of food had passed her lips since the previous evening, and she was now beginning to feel decidedly peckish.
Refraining from bringing this to his attention, she merely seated herself on the fallen tree. Despite the fact that Daniel’s injury was, as he had stated himself, only slight, and she didn’t suppose any complications would arise as a result of it, he was still looking slightly flushed, so it could do no harm to let him rest for a while.
Evidently he was of a similar mind, for he made himself more comfortable, and very soon afterwards closed his eyes. Katherine sat quietly beside him for a while, content to gaze at their pretty surroundings, which were thankfully betraying clear signs that spring had arrived. Then her stomach elected to remind her quite noisily that she required something to eat, and she decided it was time to do something about it.
Chapter Eight
The glade was pleasantly sheltered from the gusty wind that earlier had gathered strength across the open countryside, hindering their flight from the village. The March sun too was surprisingly warm, and Daniel had found little difficulty in dozing. The slight dizziness that had induced him to rest for a while seemed mercifully to have passed, and he was sufficiently restored now to recommence their cross-country trek to Normandy.
He turned his head, expecting to see his darling companion once again sitting on the trunk of the tree beside him, and was faintly surprised to discover no sign of her. Earlier, when a slight sound had disturbed him, he had opened one eye to catch her slipping quietly away. He had resisted the temptation to call out and ask where she was going. She might be a damnably brave little soul to have come to his aid, he reflected, but he suspected that, for all her innate courage, she would find it acutely embarrassing to admit that she was forced to answer a call of nature.
Women! Smiling to himself, he shook his head. He would never understand them. A jumbled mass of contradictions was what they were. At least, he silently amended, that red-haired little darling most certainly was. One moment snapping a fellow’s nose off for absolutely no reason; the next a ministering angel, touchingly concerned and tending to his every need. Yet, for all her contrariness, he could think of no other female of his acquaintance whom he would prefer to have with him on this assignment. Come to that, he could think of no other woman, with the possible exception of his late grandmother, who would have possessed sufficient courage to do what Katherine Fairchild O’Malley had done that morning. Not to put too fine a point on it, she had in all probability saved his life—foolhardy, perhaps, but worthy of the utmost admiration.
And where the deuce had the damnable little firebrand got to? Sitting upright, Daniel consulted his pocket-watch. How much time did it take a female to perform some simple bodily function? She had been gone twenty minutes or more, for heaven’s sake!
He rose to his feet and began to scan the surrounding woodland area, his sharp eyes searching for any slight movement that could not be attributed to natural rustling resulting from the wind. All seemed still and silent, except for the singing of birds, and occasional scurrying noises in the undergrowth.
His first instinct was to go in search of her, but wiser counsel prevailed. If she returned to find him gone, he very much feared that she wouldn’t hesitate to go wandering off again, looking for him, and get herself hopelessly lost or, worse still, walk straight into the hands of those whom they were trying their utmost to avoid, if indeed she had not done so already.
Concern increased with every passing second, and he had almost reached the point where he felt he had no choice but to search for her, when his sharp ears caught the sound of humming, and a moment later he glimpsed her weaving a path through the trees, appearing as if she hadn’t a care in the world.
‘Where the hell have you been?’ he demanded, resorting to the fierce tone he had adopted when dealing with any foolhardy, raw recruit under his command. She regarded him in mild surprise, but didn’t appear unduly chastened which, perversely, only served to stoke the fires of his wrath. ‘Haven’t you more sense, girl, than to go wandering off by yourself? You might easily have walked straight into the hands of those villains engaged to capture us!’
Intrigued rather than incensed by this display of ill humour, Katherine held the hard-eyed gaze. She strongly suspected that this surprising show of annoyance on his part stemmed from anxiety over her well-being, and she was faintly moved by his evident concern.
‘Oh, come now, Major Ross, be reasonable,’ she urged gently, in an attempt to placate him. ‘How many spies do you suppose there are in France? It was highly unlikely that I would have come across any more.’
‘God give me strength!’ Daniel clapped a hand over his eyes. ‘You don’t imagine for a moment that those four villains we encountered back there were spies, do you?’
‘Were they not?’ Katherine couldn’t in all honesty say that she’d given the matter much thought. ‘Who were they then, do you suppose?’
‘Rogues hired to search for us, you damnable little idiot!’ he snapped, which clearly proved that her soothing manner had not achieved the desired result. He removed his hand to glower down at her yet again, as she calmly seated herself on the trunk of the fallen tree. ‘Be under no illusions, girl,’ he warned. ‘Should you fall into their hands, they won’t be over-nice in their dealings with you.’
Her shrug of indifference wasn’t likely to improve his state of mind, but Katherine was beyond caring. She considered that she’d had reason enough to venture forth on her own. ‘Well, I don’t suppose it’s very likely that any others who might be in search of us would be able to pick me out amongst the throng.’
For a moment it was as much as Daniel could do to stare down at her in open-mouthed astonishment. ‘Not be able to …?’ Words failed him, but not for very long. ‘I’ve been unfortunate enough to come across several harebrained females in my time, Katherine Fairchild O’Malley, but without doubt you reign supreme! You’ve a head of hair on you like a flaming hayrick, girl! You stand out like a beacon!’
If there was one subject guaranteed to stir her own uncertain temper, then it was someone passing a disparaging remark about her hair. ‘I didn’t ask to be cursed with auburn locks, Major Ross!’ she flared. ‘And might I remind you that had you permitted me the few seconds it would have taken to collect my bonnet, instead of dragging me away in that odiously cavalier fashion, I might have been in a position to keep my cursed tresses well hidden!’
She watched the anger fading from those dark, masculine eyes as he cast them over her hair, which she had managed during her brief venture alone through the French countryside to confine neatly at the nape of her neck by means of a further strip torn from her