The Travellers by J Howard Shelley

The Travellers by J Howard Shelley

Author:J Howard Shelley [Shelley, J Howard]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, thriller, historical romance, regency romance, historical novel
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter 10

They fell easily into the routine of travel again and although she missed the parties, the dancing and the conversation on matters other than politics there was a certain comfort as well. In Reims she had felt always on her guard and even when she was enjoying herself, there was always a feeling that she would be exposed as a fraud. On the road she had no such qualms.

There was also a development which gave the journey a little added interest. When Sergeant Guay had reported as fit for duty that morning he greeted the Duke and Miss Leighton and confirmed that he was now fully recovered but, although his manners were as well-bred as ever it was apparent he was somewhat distracted. He kept turning as if he was looking for something. The Duke was about to ask if there was anything wrong when Véronique appeared carrying some small item of Sarah’s luggage and, over her shoulder, berating one of the hotel porters in her idiomatic French. Upon seeing Guay however she stopped dead and smiled so broadly that no-one was in any doubt where her affections lay. Guay’s smile was equally broad and he started across to her.

“Bienvenue Monsieur,” Véronique’s welcome was so provocative that it was apparent Guay was having some difficulty in retraining himself from taking her into his arms there and then. At that moment, Véronique noticed that everyone in the yard was watching them, she blushed bright red and scuttled off to the carriage as fast as she could to an accompaniment of kindly laughter.

“Will it do?” The Duke asked Sarah. “I wouldn’t want her to be hurt again.”

“I think so,” Sarah said thoughtfully, “but you will have to explain a bit of her history. Technically, it would be a mesalliance but if you were to give her a small dowry I doubt his father would mind. A third son of an impoverished baronne will not be able to look too high for a bride.

At the inn that evening the Duke took Sergeant Guay aside and explained what he knew of Véronique’s history. Guay listened carefully,

“Thank you for telling me all this Your Grace,” he stood to attention, his face mask-like, “Am I forbidden to pay my addresses Mademoiselle Ricard? Do you have an objection to the marriage?”

The thought that Guay might think that he would intervene to prevent the marriage or even that he could, had never occurred to the Duke and he hastily reassured the sergeant.

“No. No. You misunderstand me. I am not responsible for Véronique, you will have to apply to her mother or, possibly, her uncle. I am merely pointing out that, as the son of a gentleman, your father might not regard the match with a kindly eye. Also, if you do marry her, in view of the activities of Monsieur Hainaut you may have to be a little .... sensitive. For me, I like you both very much, and I hope you will be happy.”

“I thought....,” Guay’s face was the picture of relief.



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