Page 40 of The Dueling Duchess

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Cecile heard the door open and looked up from the trunk she’d been digging through to see Marianne had entered the room they shared.

“Ah, there you are,” Cecile said. “I need a bag from our caravan. Do you know where Sin is keeping them?”

Marianne laughed as she stripped off her gloves. “I thought you’d had Guy bring up every single bag you brought on the journey, whether you needed it or not.”

“I thought I had, too,” Cecile admitted.

Marianne grinned. “You’re quite cruel to him.”

“You’re one to talk! You had all three of them cleaning chamber pots and scrubbing floors.”

Rather than look guilty, Marianne only chuckled.

“Do you know where the caravans are?”

“Guy will know. He’s downstairs in the coffee room—I just saw him talking to the innkeeper. If you hurry, you might catch him.”

Cecile ignored the foolish fluttering in her chest as she hurried down the stairs. Since that night in the dining room, she and Guy had scarcely exchanged a word outside of her performances. She avoided him and, to her chagrin, he seemed to have stopped seeking her out.

The man in question was just getting to his feet when she entered the coffee room, and she heard him say something that sounded like, “I’ll move it tonight, then?”

The innkeeper winced and nodded.

Guy’s face lit up when he saw her, and he smiled down at her. “Hello, darling.”

“You know, if you have business to conduct in French you might want to have Barnabas, Marianne, or me help you. Our two countries are already verging on war—having you slaughter the French language might not be the best thing to do at this point.”

“Ha! You are so amusing, Miss Tremblay. Instead of shooting at people for a living, you should be on the stage in comedic productions. Now, what can I do for you—other than serve as a scratching post for your claws?”

“I need to get a small trunk from our caravan.”

His eyes widened in mock surprise. “You mean there is a piece of luggage that you haven’t had me tote up three floors? How shocking!”

“Well, this should be the last one. Unfortunately.”

“If you can wait a bit, I’ll bring it to you, my queen. I actually have to move both caravans to a closer location.”

“Are you going right now?”

“Why?” he asked, looking interested. “Would you like to come with me?”

“You know that Barnabas told us we shouldn’t go out alone,” she chided. “Especially those of us who are so very, very English.” Already some of the crew had encountered hostility from the locals. Even without a declaration of war, relations had quickly worsened.

Guy gestured to her. “But you have no weapon; how will you protect me?”

Cecile reached through a slit in the side of her skirt and extracted a tiny pistol from the pocket in her petticoat.

“Good God!” He glanced around the coffee room, which was empty at this hour of the afternoon. “Can you put that away, please.”

She shrugged. “You asked.”

“Run along and fetch your cloak,” he said. “In addition to your bodyguard duty you can drive the second caravan so I only have to make one trip.”

* * *

Guy watched Cecile disappear up the stairs and couldn’t help smiling.