Chivalrous Captain, Rebel Mistress Read Free Page A

was preferable to showing ourselves as women.’
    He rubbed his face. ‘I dare say you are correct in that matter.’
    She glanced away. ‘I am so worried about Domina.’ Turning back, she gestured dismissively. ‘I quite agree with you that it was a foolish idea. We became lost, and our horse almost wandered into a French camp. I fell off when we galloped away.’ Her stomach twisted in worry. ‘I do not know what happened to Domina.’
    He gazed at her a long time with those intense hazel eyes. Finally he said, ‘Surely your parents and Domina’s must be very worried about you by now.’
    She gave a wan smile. ‘My parents died a long time ago.’
    Allan Landon took in a quick breath as his gaze rested upon her. At this moment Marian Pallant looked nothing like a boy. He could only see a vulnerable and beautiful young woman. Even though her wealth of blonde hair was now hidden, he could not forget the brief moment the locks had framed her face like a golden halo.
    ‘Your parents are dead?’ he asked inanely.
    She nodded. ‘They died of fever in India when I was nine.’
    He noticed her voice catch, even though she was obviously trying to disguise any emotion. It reminded him anew that she was a vulnerable young woman, one trying valiantly to keep her wits about her.
    ‘Is Sir Roger Fenton your guardian, then?’ he asked.
    ‘No.’ She glanced away. ‘My guardian does not trouble himself about me overmuch. He leaves my care to his man of business, who knew I was a guest of the Fentons, so I suppose you could say, at the moment, I am in Domina’s father’s charge.’ Her worried look returned. ‘I should have talked Domina out of this silly scheme instead of accompanying her. I am so afraid for her.’
    She seemed more concerned for her friend than for herself. He could give no reassurance, however. The French were not known to be gentle with captives, especially female ones—although Allan well remembered one instance when British soldiers were as brutal.
    ‘I suspect the Fentons are frantic over the fate of both of you, then.’
    She nodded, looking contrite.
    He felt a wave of sympathy for her, even though she’d brought this on herself with her reckless behaviour.
    Again her blue eyes sought his. ‘Do you have anyone frantic over your fate, Captain?’
    Odd that his thoughts skipped over his mother and older brother at home on the family estate in Nottinghamshire and went directly to his father, who had been so proud to have a son in uniform and who would have cheered his son’s success, his advance from lieutenant to captain and other battle commendations.
    His father had been gone these four years, his life violently snatched away. He had not lived to celebrate his son’s victories in battle, to lament the horrors he’d endured, nor to shudder at the times he’d narrowly escaped death himself.
    Miss Pallant’s brows rose. ‘Is it so difficult to think of someone who might worry over you?’
    He cocked his head. ‘My mother and brother would worry, I suppose.’
    She gave him a quizzical look, making him wonder if his grief over his father’s death showed too clearly in his eyes. It was his turn to shutter his emotions.
    She glanced away again. ‘It must be hard for them.’
    Was it hard on them? he wondered. He’d always imagined they were used to him being far away. He’d been gone longer than his father.
    A German voice shouted what could only have been an order. The tramping of feet and cacophony of men’s voices suggested to Allan that the French must be closing in on the farm.
    ‘What does it mean?’ she asked, her voice breathless.
    He tried to appease her alarm. ‘I suspect the Nassauers have been ordered out of the château. That is all.’
    Her eyes flashed like a cornered fox. ‘That does not sound good. I wish I had stayed in Brussels.’ Her expression turned ironical. ‘It is too late to be remorseful, is it not?’
    ‘My father used to say it is better to do what one