Thread: Au-delà du Temps: Beyond Time (LeatrixSage x SacrlettRose)

Adelaide was left to pick at the gloves Annette had insisted she wear while she waited for Roarke. It didnt take long for him to appear, but long enough that she was beginning to be really annoyed with being covered in clothing from her neck to her fingertips and toes. Hat, gloves, heels, stockings, chemise, petticoats, corset, the soft, mint-green dress, and then the russet brown travelers coat. God help her, but just breathing was something of a chore. Hell would freeze over before she wore it all on a boat, but just what else she was going to wear in its place was a damn good question. All in all, it was very English. French fashion wouldnt reemerge as the leading style until after Bonaparte declared himself emperor. At least the chemisette would soon be the very height of fashion. What I wouldnt do for a simple pair of jeans, though. She looked up when she heard the servants wishing their Lord farewell and was surprised to find Wessexs attention intently locked on to her. The lantern light made it appear like blue flames were dancing in his eyes, and in his long, dark coat, one could mistake him for a blue-eyed demon stalking through the shadows of the night. He reached past her to open the carriage door, and then offered his hand to help her up. Without thinking, she took it while she tried to gather her skirts with the other hand and get her foot on the little step meant to help her hop into the coach. Just as she was about to attempt it, Wessex bent down so that his breath fanned against her neck. Adelaide froze as a warm chill ran down her spine. He was only doing it because he knew it got under her skin, but that didnt stop her heart from tripping over itself, or the blush that rushed up her neck and into her cheeks as his lips brushed against her ear. She smiled as he whispered to her. She hadnt though her loose language might seem shocking to the man, but it was amusing to have him throw the word back at her. She felt his grin against the side of her neck, and her fingers twitched in his hand as he lifted her into the carriage. He pressed the door closed behind her, and Addie turned to watch him in surprise before slowly sinking down onto one of the bench seats. You arent riding with me, then? she asked indirectly, more afraid about what could happen to her in this day and age without some male benefactor or protector than what could happen to her at his hands. In truth, she was too amused by the man to be afraid of him. For all his bluster, all his threats, he had no idea how to respond to a woman that didnt act like the ladies he was accustomed to. His grin seemed to be the only answer he would give her as he left to speak to the driver and the footman. She watched the men speak, and then Roarke stepped away to accept the reins of the horse shed spotted him riding early that morning. She had to admire the striking figure he cut on horseback. The man really was quite handsome, and Addie absently wondered what might be hidden under the layers of finery he wore. Leaning over to peer through the window, he told her to make herself comfortable, to which she laughed. In this get up, comfort is wishful thinking, Giving him a little wink, Addie pulled the curtains closed, and then promptly fell over as the carriage lurched into motion. Adelaide had to fight with how the corset kept her back rigidly straight as she tried to sit up again. She had to learn how to keep her balance, and they were well on their way by the time she figured out how to lean into the corner to rest her head against the softly padded interior. As the carriage creaked along, gently rocking her back and forth all the while, her exhaustion began to creep up on her. Waking up to Wessex hauling her bodily out of the coach wasnt something she wanted to risk, but her eyes kept drooping closed against her will. At some point she was certain she dozed off, because when she closed her eyes, all there was to hear was the creaking of the carriage, the soft plodding of the horses marching at a quick canter, and crickets. When she opened her eyes, she could hear hooves eating up the earth at a quick pace. Uneasiness made her sit still as she listened, and then that unease threatened to become panic as she heard the driver shout, the crack of a whip, and the horses launched into a full gallop. The carriage bounced and jerked, tossing Adelaide onto the floor. She slid from the seat to land on her ass and was just pulling herself onto her knees when cold metal clanked against solid wood and she looked up right into the barrel of gun. Qui es-tu? a cold, muffled voice snapped in the most flawless French she had ever heard, and Addies eyes were drawn beyond the gun to the a pair pf piercing green eyes in a face that was hidden by a dark bandana. O est Wessex? Rponds-moi, femme! Je ne sais pas, telling people I dont know, was quickly becoming Addies catch phrase, and she was sick of it. Her eyes dropped to the gun, and then back to the man, as she braced herself for the tearing, searing pain of a led ball ripping through her flesh. Et je ne te dirais pas si je l'ai fait. The mans eyes narrowed in anger, and then a booted foot connected with his wrist, smacking it into the end of the window, and the dueling pistol clattered onto the floor in front of Addie. The woman had never handled a firearm a single time in her life, but she understood the principle point the gun at what you want to go away and pull the trigger. Addie tore the curtains back from the window and looked out in time to see Wessex struggling with the horseman. She could hear them yelling, but not what they said, over the thunder of the horses hooves. As they struggled together, the idea of trying to shoot the man died for fear of shooting Wessex instead. There was a spark, a pop, and then a bang like a thunderclap as smoke erupted between the two men. Ears ringing, Addie dropped the dueling pistol as she watched the other man fall and be trampled beneath the horses. A second later the carriage rocked hard as they came to a quick stop, but Adelaide had the door open and she was falling out of the carriage before it came to a stop. She hit the ground with a huff, dirt from the road puffing up around her while the footman hopped down to try to help her. She let him lift her to her feet, and then pushed him off of her as she went to the Marquee. Roarke, she shouted at him, her ears still ringing. Hed never actually told her his name, but she didnt care to be careful. Her heart was thundering away in her throat, and all she could think about was the need to make sure he was still in one piece. The man swayed a touch on the back of his horse, and Addie reached up to steady him. He winced when her hand hit his side, and while she was sure he was trying to tell her that she was fine, warm liquid had already begun to seep into her thing gloves. Get him down, she snapped at the footman. Both men meant to stop her, and then Addie turned to star down the footman, a wild light in her eyes. J'ai dit de le descendre du putain de cheval! He cant ride with lead in his side. Whatever protests Roarke offered, Adelaide outright ignored him. Dawn couldnt have been far off, not with the night sky so dark and the moon long gone. Calais had to be close. At least, she hoped it would be. With the powerful man helped into the carriage, Addie handed the reins of the other two horses to the footman for him to manage while she climbed back into the carriage with him. She kicked the dueling pistol as she stepped in, and then picked it up to set it next the Wessex. The roomy space suddenly felt cramped and tight, and it was difficult for Addie to move with all the damn skirts that was in her way. God damn this dress, Addie hissed as she yanked her gloves off, and then her hat. She tugged several pins from her hair, leaving the carefully tended curls in an absolute mess as she threw it all out the window and the carriage lurched into motion. Okay, Addie yanked the traveling jacket off, tearing one of the selves in her struggle to get it off. She ripped the rest of the stitching once she had it off, and then leaned over Roarke. Hold still, she fussed at him as she pulled his long coat open. The sight of the blood that was leaking through his shirt made her stomach do a flip, and she felt her face drain of color as she reached out with shaking hands to flit his shirt and vest from his skin and then press the torn sleeve down hard over the wound. I am sure you would prefer I say this under different circumstance, mon Seigneur, she teased, more to distract her own mind from what she was doing than his from the pain. But, I am going to need to take off some of clothing off to see how bad this is.