Return of the Runaway by Sarah Mallory

bed down in the chateau, my friend.’ He winked and gave the farmer’s arm a playful punch. ‘My wife has always considered herself a fine lady.’
    The man shrugged. ‘It will cost you the same.’ He added, as Raoul counted out the money on to his palm, ‘You’ll find it pretty bare, monsieur , but ’tis weatherproof, mostly. I’ll bring your dinner in an hour, as well as candles and clean straw for your bed.’
    Raoul added an extra coin. ‘Can you have our trunk brought in, too? I would not want it left at the roadside overnight.’
    â€˜With pleasure, monsieur . My boy shall help me with it as soon as I’ve told the wife to prepare dinner for you.’
    The farmer went off, gazing with satisfaction at the money in his hand.
    * * *
    â€˜We might perhaps have argued for a lower price,’ observed Raoul, ‘but I suspect the fellow will serve us well in the hope of earning himself a little extra before we leave here tomorrow.’ He turned to Cassie. ‘Shall we go and inspect our quarters?’
    He held out his arm and she placed her fingers on his sleeve.
    â€˜I am relieved that I do not have to sleep with the animals,’ she confessed.
    â€˜I could see that the idea did not appeal. However, I doubt the chateau will be much better. I expect everything of value has been removed.’
    â€˜We shall see.’
    Her optimistic tone cheered him. He had expected an angry demand that they should go on to find an inn and was fully prepared to ask her just how she thought they were to get there with no saddle horse. There was also the trunk to be considered; having purchased it he did not think she would wish to leave it behind. But instead of being discontented the lady appeared sanguine, even eager to explore the chateau. They went up the steps to the terrace and carefully pulled open one of the long windows. The glass had shattered and it scrunched beneath their feet as they stepped into a large, high-ceilinged salon. A few pieces of broken furniture were strewn over the marble floor, the decorative plasterwork of the fireplace was smashed and there were signs in one corner that someone had tried to set light to the building. He heard Cassie sigh.
    â€˜Oh, this is so sad, to think of the family driven out of their home.’
    â€˜It was no more than they deserved, if they oppressed those dependent upon them.’
    â€˜But you do not know that they did,’ she reasoned. ‘In England we heard many tales of innocent families being forced to flee for their lives.’
    â€˜What else would you expect them to say? They would hardly admit that they lived in luxury while people were starving.’
    â€˜No doubt you believe it was right to send so many men and women to the guillotine, merely because of their birth.’
    â€˜Of course not. But I do not believe a man’s birth gives him the right to rule others. Aristocrats like yourself are brought up to believe you belong to a superior race and the English are the very worst!’
    Cassie smiled. ‘You will not expect me to agree with you on that , monsieur .’ She looked around her once again. ‘But while I admit there are good and bad people in the world, I cannot believe that all France’s great families were bad landlords. Some will have fled because there was no reasoning with a powerful mob.’
    â€˜But before that the king and his court were too powerful, and would not listen to reason,’ Raoul argued.
    â€˜Perhaps.’ She walked to the centre of the room and turned around slowly, looking about her. ‘I grew up in rooms very like this. A large, cold mansion, far too big to be comfortable. I much prefer Grandmama’s house in Royal Crescent. That is in Bath,’ she explained.
    â€˜I have heard of it,’ he said. ‘It has the hot baths, does it not?’
    â€˜Yes. Many elderly and sick people go there to take the