Tallie's Knight Part 22

The carriage rumbled to a halt and they fell apart as the door was pulled open by a footman. Magnus stepped out and held out his hand to help her down, his eyes burning into hers. Blushing, she descended the steps and entered the house with her hand still clasped firmly in his.

As the front door closed behind them he swung her into his arms and took the stairs, two at a time, seeming not even to notice her weight.

She clung to his neck, delighted with his pa.s.sionate impetuosity, so unlike her Icicle. He kicked open the door of his bedchamber, stepped inside, kicked it shut and laid her carefully on his bed.

He took the neckline of her gown in his long, strong fingers, saying, "You'll not wear this blasted thing in public again," and ripped it open in one dramatic move. Tallie was utterly thrilled. His eyesdarkened as they moved over her partially revealed body. He wrenchedoff his beautifully arranged neck cloth and flung his shirt away.

"I.

think, madam wife, any engagements you have made for this afternoon will have to remain unfulfilled. "

Tallie smiled naughtily up at him.

"Yes, but I doubt whether I will."

He looked startled for a moment, and then eyed her hungrily.

"Nor will I, my dear. Nor will I," he muttered hoa.r.s.ely, and lowered his mouth to hers.

That night, Magnus took her out vagabond ising--after ensuring she was m.u.f.fled to the ears and b.u.t.toned to the neck. He directed the carriage to a part of the city Tallie had never seen, where the streets were narrow and dark and vaguely threatening.

They were, nonetheless, full of people dressed in all sorts ofcostumes: gaudy women with painted faces, beggars and cripples,elegantly dressed gentlemen, shopkeepers, soldiers. Tallie almostslipped on the oily cobblestones, and Magnus held her clamped tight tohis side. Claude loomed in the gloom several paces behind them, andfor once Tallie was glad of his fearsome visage.

"After you, my dear," said Magnus, stopping at a doorway lit by paintedlanterns. He ushered her down the stairs into a dark and mysteriousplace called a cabaret. They found a table and called for drinks.Tallie's was bright green. She eyed it with suspicion.

"Does it not meet with my lady's favour?" Magnus said, quirking an eyebrow.

On her mettle, Tallie sipped it cautiously, then smiled.

"It tastes of peppermint."

Magnus's white teeth glinted in the candlelight.

Setting down her gla.s.s, Tallie looked around her. All sorts of peopleof all walks of life rubbed elbows and mingled in the smoky gloom.Grimy crimson curtains hung across a small stage."What do the curtains conceal?" she asked.

"Wait and see."After a few moments a dwarf came forward, dressed as a Turk, with a redfez. With a shout of something unintelligible, he pulled aside thecurtains and scattered applause filled the room as a sultry,exotic-looking woman came forward. She was dressed, quite indecently,in red satin and black lace. She sang several songs which had all thegentlemen chuckling, including Magnus.

"She has a lovely voice," whispered Tallie, 'but I can hardly understand a word. Will you tell me what the songs are about? "

Magnus looked at her, a faint smile on his face, then shook his head. Tallie opened her mouth to argue, but suddenly a group of scantily clad dancers whooped onto the dance floor, twirling glittering scarves and performing some exotic dance to the rhythm of drums and wailing music. Their movements left Tallie in no doubt of what the dance, at least, was about. She stared, wide-eyed, feeling her cheeks warming. Magnus stood up, frowning, and said brusquely, "It's time we moved on, I think."

Tallie's face fell.

"Oh, no, it cannot be time to go home already, can it?"

He looked down at her and his frown softened.

"No, there's plenty more to see, little vagabond. Only not here, I

think."

"Oh, I suppose you are right," said Tallie reluctantly.

"Those dances are vastly improper, aren't they?"

Her husband gave a choke of laughter and took her arm.

"Outside," he said.

"Now."

They took a carriage to a place beside the Seine, where a crowd of people were gathered in a large circle, watching. Magnus, keeping Tallie safe in the circle of his arm, shouldered his way to a place where she could see. Tallie felt as if there were just herself and Magnus in the world, as if everything else was just a magical many-splendoured rhapsody whirling around then, binding them together in a spell of enchantment.

Acrobats dressed in glittering finery leapt and tumbled on a tattered cloth of red and gold, while a one-legged man played merry tunes on an organ. Then a pair of young girls came out, looking as innocent as schoolgirls. They twirled and tossed burning brands, leaving trails of fire hanging in the dark night air. And finally, to the gasps of the crowd, they swallowed the fire, then spat out whooshing bursts of flame, bowing and smiling afterwards, apparently quite unhurt. Tallie clapped her hands until they hurt.

Then there was a puppet show about a young girl lost in the forest, and a dragon and a brave bold knight, and Tallie's heart was in her mouth. She knew they were just puppets, but she clasped Magnus tight even so and was glad of his warmth.

They watched until there was no more to see, then strolled on beside the silently flowing Seine. They ate hot nuts cooked on a brazier before their eyes, and Magnus had to lend Tallie his handkerchief to wipe her greasy fingers. And he kissed her in the darkness and tasted salt on her lips.

Later, following the sound of music down a dark lane, they came to a small, open courtyard, where gypsies sang and leapt and gyrated under flaming torches, their heels tapping out a frenzied tattoo, their guitars and throats sobbing with tragic pa.s.sion. Tallie found them very moving, even though she could understand none of the words, and she clutched her husband's arm and watched the gypsies with tears in her eyes.

And Magnus dried Tallie's eyes and took her home and made love to her, first with an urgency and pa.s.sion that left her gasping with ecstasy, then later with such tenderness she found herself weeping again. Only this time he did not dry her tears, but kissed them away, and held her in his arms until they both fell asleep.

The next evening they went to the Theatre Francais to see Fleury, the most famous actor in all France. It was Tallie's first visit to a theatre, and though it was hot, stuffy and crowded, she found it quite wondrous and fantastical. Her husband found he could barely take his eyes off her enraptured face, and when he brought her home that night he made slow, sensual love to her, marvelling at her pa.s.sionate response, fearing and hungering for her to say it again. / love you, Magnus.

But she didn't say it.

Magnus accompanied her everywhere. He took her to the new Palais Royale, which contained libraries, gambling houses, coffee houses, p.a.w.nbrokers, jewellers, ice shops, exhibition rooms, theatres and even a chess club. They attended b.a.l.l.s and masquerades. And each night they made magical, tender love.

And she seemed happy, Magnus thought. She told him once in sweet exhaustion that she imagined two people could feel no closer than when making love. He wanted to tell her it could also be the loneliest feeling in the world, that it had been for him--until her. But he couldn't.

And she never again said the words he both craved and dreaded. I love you, Magnus.

"Milady," said Monique one morning while she was arranging Tallie's hair.

"When do you think your baby will be born?"

Tallie stared in surprise at the reflection of her maid in the looking gla.s.s.

"Baby? What do you mean, Monique?"

"Oui, you are enceinte, are you not, milady?"

"Enceinte? I have no idea."The maid frowned."But, milady, I 'ave been with you more than seven weeks now.""Yes, it would be about that. But what does that signify?""In all that time you 'ave not 'ad your monthly courses."Tallie's eyes widened."No, that's right," she said slowly."How clever of you to notice. But what has that to do with a baby?"Monique explained."Really?" exclaimed Tallie."So that's how one knows... And you really think I am increasing?""Oui, milady. Unless your courses are always irregular?"Tallie shook her head."No, never. I just thought I had missed them because of being married or travelling or something." She felt a quiver of excitement ripplethrough her. A baby. How wonderful.Monique smiled at her mistress.

"Lord d'Arenville will be very pleased, yes?"Tallie froze. Once her husband discovered she was increasing, he wouldwant to take her home to England and d'Arenville Hall. He had said soin no uncertain terms.

And then she'd never get to Italy.

And getting to Italy was almost as important to Tallie as her baby was.

She had delayed too long in Paris as it was. There was something much

more important at stake here than mere pleasure. She had been selfish and thoughtless and had allowed herself to be seduced by pleasures and entertainments.

"No, Monique," she slowly.

"I will not tell my husband just yet. It will be our little secret,agreed?"Monique looked troubled."If you say so, milady.""I do," said Tallie firmly."And now, if you please, we must make preparations to leave Paris.""Leave Paris?" gasped Monique."Yes, in three days, I think," said Tallie firmly."You will come with us, will you not? To Italy?"Made shrugged."Of course, milady. Why not? I 'ave never been to Italy. But mil or--will 'e wish to go so suddenly?"

Tallie smiled.

"You may leave mil or to me."

Chapter Twelve.

Oh," said Tallie, stretching luxuriously in her canvas seat and gazing contentedly at the pa.s.sing scenery. They had left Paris three days before by coach, but had transferred to a barge that morning.

"This is indeed much more agreeable than I had expected it to be. How pretty those fields and vineyards are. And how smooth the water slipping by."

Magnus smiled. The barge trip had been suggested by Luigi Maguire, the major-domo hired to make arrangements for the journey, a Frenchman with an Italian mother and an Irish father. Maguire was already proving his worth.

"I did tell you it would be easier on the bones than a carriage, but you wouldn't have it, would you? Now confess-you thought you would get seasick, didn't you?"

Tallie nodded.

"You are right, as usual. Oh, the Rhone is such a pretty river. How long do you think it will take before we reach Italy?"

Magnus frowned. There was something peculiar about her sudden rush to get to Italy. Of course, she had told him once that she wished to go there--to visit her parents' graves, or some such thing--but he'd thought she'd forgotten about it. Certainly one would have thought the delights of Paris would more than compensate for what could only be a duty visit, after all. But she was adamant, and he was finding it more and more difficult to refuse his wife anything these days. He pushed aside the unwelcome thought. But if they wanted to get to Italy, they had to cross over the Mount Cenis Pa.s.s. Magnus repressed a shudder. He hated heights, and would infinitely have preferred to go by ship, but with his wife's tendency to seasickness there was no question of it. It had been difficult enough to persuade her to travel down the Rhone in a flat-bottomed boat. Besides, there was always the danger of pirates in the Mediterranean.

"According to Maguire, we will remain on this barge for at least five days," he said.

"Until we reach Avignon. And I thought we could rest there for a week or so. You will want to visit the Palais des Papes, and several other sights."

"Oh, no, I do not think that would interest me very much," responded Tallie mendaciously.

"I have seen a great many palaces now, and one more, even if it belonged to a pope, is no great thing. I am not greatly interested in popes."

Magnus regarded her thoughtfully.

"I did hear," he said casually, 'that some people prefer to view the Palace des Papes by moonlight. "

"Moonlight?" Her eyes lit up, as he had known they would. Tallie thought for a moment.

"Perhaps if we stay in Avignon for just a day or two, then."

Magnus repressed a smile. It was becoming easier to calculate his wife's tastes. He watched her as she turned her head back towards the riverbanks. He had found so much of his life dull and tedious before his marriage. But Tallie's open fascination with all sorts of things had opened his eyes to a host of small pleasures and interests and he was beginning to see the world differently. It was probably a sign of weakness, he knew, but there seemed nothing he could do about it.

After Avignon, they returned to their coach, which had also been transported on the barge. The roads were a little rough, and Magnus had been worried his wife would be sickened by the incessant jolting.

Instead, she spent most of the journey peering out of the window and deriving great enjoyment from the way the postilions leaped out of their enormous jackboots at every stop, leaving the boots in the stirrups until a new man came out and leapt into the same boots.

Finally the roads narrowed and their pace slowed as they climbed higher into the foothills of the Alps. Tallie called to Magnus, who was riding.

"Magnus, I don't think these poor horses can pull us any more. It's getting terribly steep. Whatever shall we do?" She stared up into the mountains.

"They cannot possibly pull us over those mountains."

"We stop at the next village," he called back.

"The coach will be dismantled and mules and men will carry it, and us,