Claire Delacroix (24 page)

“Oh, my lady, you have only to persist in such unreasonable obstinacy to see yet more,” Yves retorted. “Never has anyone thought so little of me in all my days, with the possible exception of my own sire.”

Gabrielle winced. “That is not company I would like to keep.”

“Then you can appreciate that I do not appreciate being cast in the company of your sire and your faithless spouse!”

She looked toward her toes for a long moment, then glanced at Yves once more. He thought he saw a hopeful light in her eyes and dared to try to convince her to believe in him.

“Gabrielle,” Yves said in a low voice, his gaze unswerving from her own. “I told you at the count’s court that I had no desire for property. It was by your invitation alone that I came to your bed this evening. If perchance you conceive a child, I shall be as delighted with its arrival as I am with Thomas, whether that child be born son or daughter. And if you do not conceive, it matters little, for you have already given to me a son in Thomas.”

A tear welled in his lady’s eye, but Yves plunged on. “Yet if you imagine that I have any desire for that malicious creature sitting in the hall—” he jabbed a finger in that direction “—then you have much to learn of the manner of man that I am.”

The lady said nothing, though the avidity with which she watched Yves emboldened him to continue.

“Gabrielle, there is but one woman in all of Christendom who fires my blood,” he said firmly. “She is a beauty from
the depths of her heart to the tips of her fingers, for the strength of her character shines in her eyes and makes her more lovely with every passing day. I never met the like of her…” Yves’ voice dropped huskily “…and unless she insists otherwise, I would like to spend the remainder of my days and nights on this earth winning her trust.”

Gabrielle’s eyes shone beneath his praise and she stepped a little bit closer to him. “Who is she?” she whispered, though Yves knew she had already guessed. The fact that she did not turn away, let alone that she drew even closer, encouraged him as nothing else could have.

“I am going to kiss her this very moment,” Yves murmured. “And then you will know the truth without a doubt.”

Yves did precisely as he intended, relief sweeping through him when Gabrielle’s arms wound around his neck. He kissed her soundly before he pulled away.

He stared down at her swollen lips and shining eyes as his pulse thundered in his ears. His loins tightened in recollection of the afternoon and he caught his breath at the promise of the night they would share.

But there were two things yet to be resolved before they returned to the solar.

“What would you have done with this place?” Yves asked gently.

“The garden?” Gabrielle bit her lip and looked over her shoulder. “I must confess that at first I wanted to destroy it all,” she confessed with a wry smile. “I had the idea that I would tear every root from the ground with my own hands.” She shrugged and looked back to Yves. “That does seem a waste beyond reason.”

“This was a place you enjoyed, though?”

“Oh, yes. I always found it peaceful here.”

Yves nodded, his mind made up. “Then we must make it a place of repose for you once more.” He glanced about them, Gabrielle’s hands firmly clasped within his own, then
met her gaze steadily. “If nothing else, that bench should go.”

“Go?”

“Franz and I could cast it over the walls, if you so desired.”

Her eyes widened. “It would shatter on the rocks in the river!”

“Precisely.”

Gabrielle chortled, her fingers rising to cover her mouth as though she feared she should not laugh at the idea. “It would be madness,” she whispered, her eyes glowing.

“Would it make you feel better?”

“Oh, most definitely! The thought alone improves my spirits.”

“Then it shall be done first thing in the morning,” Yves decided.

Gabrielle looked at the bench, at the far wall, then back to Yves. Her expression was filled with wonder, as though she marveled that someone would do something so simple for her pleasure alone.

The lady had been ill used, indeed.

“Now, off to bed with you,” Yves chided gently. “Adelys does not deserve more of your graciousness.”

“But what of you?”

“I have one task to do, then I shall join you.” Yves kissed his bride firmly. “I shall tell you of it only when it is done.”

Gabrielle smiled tentatively. “Another surprise?”

Yves nodded, then shooed her toward the portal.

In time, she would trust him fully, he knew. Had she not confessed a tale so close to her heart? And he would never betray her. Yves would never have guessed she had endured such villainy, but the tale only increased his admiration.

“Now go,” he urged, and Gabrielle did precisely thus.

She pivoted in the portal and wagged a finger at him. “You will not destroy that bench without my being present,” she warned him.

“I would not dream of it.”

Gabrielle grinned then and disappeared into the keep.

Yves waited until Gabrielle’s footsteps had faded completely before he returned to the hall below. He schooled his temper as Adelys waved to him with playful fingertips.

“Yves! Yoo-hoo!”

A wave of loathing rose within Yves, but he did not dare give it voice. He stoically took the place opposite Adelys and did not miss her pout, even as he waved aside Franz’s offer of a meal.

“I am so glad you came back without Gabrielle,” Adelys cooed. “She is a sweet child, but you and I have so much to talk about.”

“Indeed? I thought we had but one thing to discuss.”

Adelys’ eyes glowed and she leaned across the table in anticipation. “Oh, I do like a man who cuts right to the heart of the issue,” she purred.

“Then let us not waste time with niceties,” Yves said coldly. “You have distressed my lady wife with both your presence and your deeds. As a result, you are no longer welcome at Château Perricault.”

Adelys’ features froze in shock, but Yves continued on relentlessly.

“You will leave this hall before the dawn, so that Gabrielle is spared another sight of your sorry hide, and you will never darken the threshold of this keep again, for I shall make no bones of turning you away.”

“But Yves! Is this any way to treat a guest?”

Yves let his lip curl in a sneer. “One such as you should be turned out into the woods at this very moment and not left within the walls for the night.”

“One such as
me?
I could please you better than that plain stick of a wife you have taken!”

Yves smiled at the ridiculousness of the thought. “I think not.”

Adelys inhaled sharply. “You would deny me?”

“As always I have.”

Adelys’ eyes narrowed as she pushed herself to her feet, and the vindictiveness of her nature showed with sudden clarity. “I shall make your life a living hell,” she declared. “I shall tell everyone that I was abused here, that the bastard of Sayerne does not know how to conduct himself as a nobleman. I shall spread whatever lies about your wife that I can imagine.”

Yves stood in turn. “If you do, I shall recount a tale to the archbishop in the count’s court.”

“I care nothing for the archbishop!”

“You would if he brought the charge of murder against your name,” Yves responded calmly. He savored the way Adelys gasped. “To be an adulteress is one thing, and a crime not easily proved when the man in question is dead, but murder is another matter altogether.”

“What are you talking about?” Adelys demanded in a strained voice. “What lies have you been told?”

“Oh, I have no doubt it was not a lie,” Yves argued smoothly, though in truth he was not certain. “The man who told me the tale could certainly be found again if the archbishop wished to check the facts.”

Adelys’ face turned white as though she dreaded what Yves might say. “Tell me!”

“It cannot be news to you, Adelys, that Eduard de Mornay was poisoned.” Yves watched the last vestige of color drain from the lady’s face and knew the tale he had thought might be rumor was truth. “Or that everyone within the keep of Mornay believed Eduard’s wife was responsible for the deed.”

Adelys managed to laugh, though the sound was strained. “If that were true, the priest of Mornay would have seen matters put aright!”

“One would think so,” Yves conceded, giving Adelys time to smile victoriously before playing his last card. “But then,
if the lady had seduced that man of the cloth—as went the tale—then that pnest would have had much to lose.”

The brittle green gaze locked with Yves’ own, then Adelys’ shoulders sagged in concession. “What do you want?” she demanded tiredly.

“I have already told you.”

Adelys’ lips set in a sullen line, though she did not argue any longer. Yves would have to write the count so that the matter could be pursued, for he was certain the knight who had shared the tale could readily be found once more.

The count would ensure that justice was served.

“Franz!” Yves called, and that man was immediately by his side. “Regretfully, Lady Adelys must leave before the dawn on the morrow. Could you ask Xavier to have everything prepared for her party’s early departure?”

“Of course, my lord.” Franz bowed and was gone.

“You will, of course, forgive my lady Gabrielle and I if we do not see you off in the morning?” Yves said politely.

Adelys visibly ground her teeth. “Of course,” she said tightly, then her eyes flashed as she made one last effort. “But, Yves, would you not consider one little liaison before I go?” she asked with a smile evidently intended to be winning. “I shall make the dalliance worth your while.”

Yves bowed politely. “My lady wife awaits me,” he said firmly, then turned to leave the hall.

Gabrielle huddled beneath the coverlets, straining for the sound of Yves’ return. Now that the truth was clear between them, she knew she had nothing to fear. His frustration in the garden had shown her what she should have seen all along. By her mother’s own rule, there was no advantage to Yves in courting Gabrielle’s favor. There was nothing else she had that Yves might desire.

Except her heart.

And it seemed the man had some interest in capturing Gabrielle’s heart for his own.

That was a promise for the future that she could not deny. As she lay in bed awaiting his return, she dared to imagine a glorious marriage filled with love and affection. She caught her breath when she recalled the fire in Yves’ eyes when he had called her beautiful.

On this night, she would show him the full extent of her love. She had nothing to risk and so very much to gain.

But what kept the man? What was this surprise he sought? Gabrielle was fairly bursting with curiosity by the time Yves’ footsteps echoed in the corridor.

Their gazes met across the solar when he closed the door behind him, and Gabrielle felt more delightfully feminine beneath his regard than she had in all her days.

She watched as her spouse shed his clothes, unable to quell her response to the splendid sight of his nudity. Her fingertips itched to trail across his skin; her very flesh seemed alive with the promise of a repeat of this afternoon. Yves carried the lantern to the bedside, then climbed in beside Gabrielle as though they had slept thus for years, his smug smile feeding her curiosity.

Where
had
he gone?

“Curious?” he asked with mock innocence, and Gabrielle laughed that he understood her so readily.

“Of course! Where did you go? And why did it take you so long?”

Yves lay back against the pillows, sighed with satisfaction, then surveyed her lazily. “This is quite a comfortable bed,” he mused. “Much better than the pallet I used to sleep upon.”

“Tell me or I shall cast you back to it!” Gabrielle teased.

Yves laughed, the low rumble of his voice warming her to her toes. He gathered her against his side with an intoxicating possessiveness and pressed a kiss to her temple. Gabrielle’s heart swelled as if it would burst and she hated that she had doubted him for as long as she had.

“You have nothing to fear, wife of mine,” Yves murmured.
“I merely ensured that Adelys saw the good sense of leaving Perricault before the dawn.”

Gabrielle pulled back and looked Yves in the eye. “You did what?”

“I cast her out and bade her never to return here,” Yves said, so solemnly that Gabrielle knew he spoke the truth.

“But she was our guest!”

“She lost those privileges when she insulted the lady of the estate,” Yves said grimly. “She will not be back.”

Gabrielle could not imagine how Yves had convinced Adelys thus, but his manner dismissed any possible doubt. A glow took up residence in her heart and she nestled against him again, amazed that he had done such a thing because she was upset.

No one had ever shown Gabrielle such consideration before. Indeed, the man went to great lengths to see anything that troubled her cast out of her life. She could well become accustomed to this man’s ability to dismiss her every concern.

“Would you still ride to Sayerne on the morrow?” Yves asked now, giving her shoulder a minute squeeze. “Thomas is most anxious to choose his pups, but if you think you will be too tired, we could leave the matter for a few days.”

“Tired? Why should I be tired? The hour is not late.” Gabrielle looked toward Yves in confusion, only to find a devilish twinkle lurking in his eyes.

“I did give you my word about this bed,” he said solemnly.

Gabrielle laughed and tapped a fingertip on his bare chest. “But will
you
not be too tired to ride to Sayerne on the morrow?”

Yves made a show of considering the matter, then shook his head. “No, I do not think so.” He rolled over quickly, trapping Gabrielle beneath him, and cupped her chin in his hands. “You see,” he murmured, his words fanning her lips “there are certain activities that tend to invigorate rather than
fatigue.” His eyes blazed into hers and Gabrielle had no doubt of what kind of activities he meant.

“Indeed?” She stretched up and provocatively traced the outline of his lips with the tip of her tongue. She liked how Yves caught his breath, and felt powerful in her femininity for the first time. “I should like to learn of such deeds,” she murmured against his flesh.