La Flamme (Historical Romance) (20 page)

"Ask yourself why you do this. Is it to punish him or because you love him?"

"My feelings do not matter. What I do tonight is for my father—at last he will be avenged! Tonight is only the beginning. The rest will be played out in England, and I do not know what will happen."

Ysabel watched Sabine's face carefully. "There is peril in this."

"He doesn't know who I am."

"I would remind you of the day Jacques and I pulled a half-drowned girl out of the stream. If Garreth Blackthorn was the man responsible, who is to say he will not try again—and next time, he might succeed."

"By the time he realizes who I am, it will be too late, for we shall be under my uncle's protection."

Sabine glanced out the window and watched as crates were being loaded onto several wagons. "You will see that everything is stored with Marie?"

"Of course. What have Jacques and Marie said about your leaving?"

"They were sad, of course, but they understand."

"I still do not like you being alone in this house with that man."

"Understand what I must do, Ysabel. It was you who told me that a woman only has one weapon, and 1 shall use it tonight."

It was later in the day when Ysabel came to Sabine and handed her a small vial containing blue liquid. "This is a powerful sleeping draught that is my own concoction. Just two drops will put anyone to sleep. But I would caution you to use only two drops."

Sabine looked at the vial curiously. "You want me to . use this on Garreth?"

"It will do him no harm and will allow you time to escape. Otherwise, he may not let you leave when the time comes."

"It seems such an ... odious thing to do to anyone."

"Use it only if you feel the need." Ysabel's wise old eyes looked deeply into Sabine's. "If a woman loves that which could harm her, she should cut it from her life. Turn away from the plans you have made for this night. Just walk away."

"If I do not face him now, I shall only have to face him later." Sabine moved toward the stairs, dreading what she must now do. "For now I want to talk to Richard. He is confused by the closing of the house. It's time I told him his identity, and that we are returning to England."

"Yes, it is time," Ysabel agreed.

Sabine found Richard sitting on the window seat in her bedchamber, watching a servant packing her trunks.

Sabine sat down beside him. "Richard, you will be happy to meet our Uncle Joseph, the marquis de Chavaniac."

Richard was immediately excited. "Why did you not tell me before that we had relatives living in France, Sabine? We have a family, and I did not even know about them."

"There is much you do not know, Richard." She watched the smile leave his lips and his eyes become sad.

Concerned, Sabine dismissed the servant and gave Richard her attention. "I have kept many things from you, Richard, because you were too young to understand. Until now, the time was not right."

He ducked his head, avoiding her eyes. "I know more than you think I do, Sabine. I've heard people talking about me." His lips trembled, and she could see that he was trying to control his emotions. "You are not my sister—you are my mother! And do not pretend otherwise."

Sabine was so startled that she could hardly find her voice. "Is that what you think, Richard?"

"Why else would we leave England, keep our names secret from everyone, and you keep me hidden? It's because you were ashamed of me." He raised clear eyes to her and placed his hand in hers. "I want you to know that I love you, no matter what. And I'm glad that you are my mother."

Sabine realized that he'd heard the cruel rumors and had been hurt by them. He thought that he was illegitimate, and yet, he had never spoken of it to her.

She gathered him to her and he leaned his head on her shoulder. "Oh, Richard, dearest, why didn't you ask me about this before?"

His arms tightened about her neck. "You don't have to feel guilty, Sabine. I know everything, and I do not blame you—I love you."

"Oh, Richard, you are wrong."

"I know that you loved my father and that he was a great nobleman. He could not marry you because your family was not of the nobility, and he already had a wife."

Sabine held him away from her, looking into his eyes. "Who has been filling your head with such absurdities?"

"I've heard the whispers among the kitchen scullions and the other servants. 1 realized why you never allowed me to use a surname—it's because I don't have one—do I?"

She took both his hands in hers, feeling like crying. He had been so dreadfully hurt, when all she had meant to do was protect him. "Richard, listen to me. You have a fine old name, one that has known great honor and is respected throughout the whole of England."

"Yes, I know, but it is not my real name. It was my father's and he could not give it to me. I remember so little about him—but it seemed that we lived in a big house with many rooms and many servants. My father must have loved you."

"What else do you remember?"

"I remember the water and the cold."

"That was because we were running, Richard. We escaped death that night, only because I took you into the stream."

"I have somehow known that we were in danger that night, and I have thought about it many times. Was it my father who wanted us dead? Had we become a humiliation to him?" There was pain and bewilderment in Richard's voice.

"No, Richard. What I am going to tell you now is the truth—I want you to believe that. I have not told you this before because I thought 1 was doing what was best for you. Little did I know what you were suffering because of my silence."

His eyes were filled with hope. "My father did not want us dead?"

"
Our
father, Richard. No matter what you have heard, or what you believe, I
am
your sister. The truth is going to be as painful as anything you may have imagined, for it is a tragic story that I now reveal to you."

He listened intently as she explained the events that led to their escape from Woodbridge Castle. Tears swam in his eyes as she told them how their father had died, and how his last thought had been for their safety.

"So you see, Richard, I am your sister. I wish you could have known our mother. She was gentle, kind, and lovely, and she was so proud of you. Our father was a man of honor, though sometimes intimidating. He was not afraid to tell even the king himself when he thought his majesty was wrong. He was a great man, and you are his legal heir."

Richard was quiet as he contemplated everything Sabine had told him. "I have a family name," he finally said in wonder.

"Indeed you do. You are also lord of vast lands and holdings and have great wealth." She brushed her lips against his cheek. "In truth, you have so many titles, I cannot remember them all. I do know that you are the viscount of Ironsworth, baron of Rummedale, baron of Wimsley, and most important of all, you are the earl of Woodbridge!"

Richard's eyes were round with amazement as he stared at her. "We are of the nobility?"

"Indeed, M'lord," she said smiling.

Suddenly his eyes flamed with anger, and she was reminded of their father.

"I must avenge my father!" Richard said. "Who is the person that caused his death?"

Sabine realized that she must still keep secrets from him, at least a while longer. "Richard, trust in me, for 1 cannot reveal anything more to you until we reach England. The day will come when father will be avenged— this I swear. And it will not be long in coming."

He leaned his head against her shoulder, and her arms went around him. She smiled. "So you thought I was your mother?"

His shoulders slumped. "It was not so bad to think that, even when I believed you were ashamed of me. I love you better than anyone. I realize now that for all the years we have been in France, you have guarded and protected me." He looked up at her. "You still believe that our father's enemies want to harm me, don't you?"

"I have never been willing to take that risk. I may have been too cautious, but you're still alive."

They sat there for a long time, drawing comfort from each other. At last Sabine stood. "Enough of this. We are off to the province of Auvergne to visit our mother's brother. While there, we can both be ourselves."

"Will our uncle know us?"

She walked to her dressing table and opened a wooden chest where she kept her jewelry. "This is the letter 1 received from him." She smoothed out the pages and began to read:

"My dear niece, it is with great happiness and much astonishment that I received your letter with the locket. It was my unhappy understanding that you and my nephew, Richard, were missing and were ultimately considered deceased. I await your arrival so I may judge for myself the validity of our relationship. I have many questions that beg to be answered."

Sabine smiled. "There you have it, Richard. An uncle that is looking forward to your visit."

He was looking over her shoulder, and he reached into her jewel chest, lightly touching a diamond necklace. "I wish we could leave today."

"Tomorrow will be soon enough."

He picked up a ruby ring with a dragon carved in the stone. "This is not our family crest."

Sabine took the ring and closed her hand around it. "No, 'tis not your crest."

He could tell that she was being mysterious again. "Do not keep secrets from me, Sabine."

She laid the ring in his hand so he would not think she was deceiving him. "It belongs to a man I know. I have no wish to speak of him tonight. One day I will tell you about him."

"He gave the ring to you?"

"Yes." She kissed his cheek and led him across the room. "Now off to the kitchen. You may ask cook for a sweet."

Reluctantly, Richard moved out the door, but stood in the hall, looking back at Sabine. "I will have many responsibilities when we reach England."

"Yes, you shall."

Suddenly his face brightened. "Do Jacques and Marie know that I am of noble birth?"

"Of course. They have known for a very long time. You have my permission to ask Jacques tonight how they pulled us from the stream and saved our lives."

He nodded solemnly and walked to the stairs.

Ysabel entered the room, a wide smile on her face. "I passed Richard on the stairs, and he informed me that in the future, I should address him as my lord, but that you could still call him Richard."

Sabine couldn't help laughing. "There will be no living with him now that he knows his true identity. Perhaps I need to tell him that I outrank him."

Ysabel went about the room, gathering up items and placing them in a trunk, then slammed the lid shut. "That's the last of the clothing." She raised her eyes to Sabine. "There is still time to reconsider."

"Oh, Ysabel, I want desperately to get through this night. If only it did not have to be—but Garreth Blackthorn must be punished!"

22

The fire had long since died down and was now only glowing embers. Sabine sat alone in the salon, unmindful of the chill in the room or the candles that had burned low, casting the room in shadows. Eight o'clock had come and gone, and still she waited for Garreth. She glanced at the mantle clock as it struck the eleventh hour.

She had been so confident that he would come. She had taken particular care with her toilette, pulling her hair away from her face and fastening it with diamond clips. She wore a sweeping, red velvet dressing gown that was trimmed with silver lace. Her heart was heavy with disappointment as she bent to blow out the candles, when she heard the front door open. She held her breath as she heard Garreth calling her name.

She straightened and watched him enter the room. Their eyes met, and she was unaware that she moved across the room to meet him halfway. They did not touch, but stared into each other's eyes.

"Your other guests have gone," Garreth said at last.

"There were no others. 1 invited only you."

His eyebrow arched in mockery. "Had I known that, I would have arrived earlier."

She licked her dry lips. "You're here now."

"I tried to stay away. But as you see, I could not."

There was nothing of the coquette in her now. "I am glad you came."

He glanced about the room. "No servants?"

"I sent them away. There is no one in the house save you and me."

His voice was deep and resounded through her like a caress. "Not even Richard?"

"Not even Richard." She laid her hand on his arm. "I want so much to thank you for finding him last night. I was very unkind to you after you brought him home. Can you forgive me?"

"There is nothing to forgive. It's understandable that you were frightened for his safety."

She smelled of some strange exotic flower, and he ached to crush her in his arms. Instead, he moved away from her. "Did you change your mind about me, or is this merely your way of showing your gratitude because I found Richard?"

A slight smile flickered across her face. "Does it matter?" She walked to him, and in a gesture that took him by surprise, lay her head on his shoulder. "I asked you to come because I wanted to be with you."

His arms went around her, and gently, he pulled her close. His lips brushed against her hair, gliding down her neck to nuzzle the lobe of her ear. "I have been in torment since last night," he admitted. "I had decided to return home, but I could not leave you."

Sabine had also been tormented, but she would not admit this to him. She understood about love now. Why did they have to be enemies? She pressed her lips against his, lightly touching, and then pulling away. "I am glad you did not return to England."

"I could not go until I made a confession and extracted one from you." His eyes softened with an inner glow. "It's very simple, really. I love you." He gripped her arms, jerking her forward, his mouth grinding against hers in a kiss that made her feel as if she were falling into a bottomless chasm.

He raised his head and stared into her eyes. "Tell me that you love me," he whispered in her ear. "Say it."

The admission was torn from her lips. "I . . . do love . . . you." She loved him in every way a woman could love a man. She pressed her head against his shoulder as he triumphantly lifted her into his arms.

"I knew you had to love me, or else there would be no meaning in this life."

"I... don't want to love you."

He carried her into the hallway and up the stairs. "Love does not seem a free choice." He smiled down at her. "Yet, I would have chosen you above all other women."

She pressed her face against the rough fabric of his jerkin, too overcome with tenderness to speak.

"Which is your room?" he asked, and she could feel the urgency in him, for it matched her own.

Sabine nodded at her door and he opened it, carrying her inside.

A single candle flickered low. He placed Sabine on her feet and untied her belt, sliding the dressing gown off her shoulders and allowing it to fall to the floor. He could only stare at her in wonder, for she wore nothing beneath the dressing gown.

Sabine could hear his sharp intake of breath. When he unfastened her hair and allowed it to fall freely across her shoulders, she shivered as delightful feelings moved through her.

With masterful hands, Garreth stroked up and down her arms, then lightly touched her breasts.

Once she tried to protest, but he turned her toward him and smothered her lips with his, stopping her objections and cutting off her speech.

She was existing in a dream state where touching, feeling, and the spoken word were all that mattered. Emotions exploded within her, and fire burned in her veins. His touch, his voice, his mouth were all that existed for her.

She threw back her head as his mouth moved over her body in the most sensuous way, causing her to tremble in anticipation of what else he would do. He lay her on the bed and came down beside her, trailing his finger down her shoulder. "Are you sure you want this?"

"Yes, Garreth, I am sure."

Her eyes glistened like liquid gold in the soft candlelight. He was drawn further into her spell. He lifted a flaming curl and caressed it between his fingers. "1 have thought of little else save this moment. Now that it is here, I hesitate only because if I have you, I will never be able to let you go."

His words were like wine to her. "Perhaps I shall be a disappointment to you," she murmured.

His hand moved lower to lay gently against her flat stomach. "No, you could never be that."

Sabine closed her eyes and groaned when his lips softly touched one breast and then moved to the other with the same gentleness.

"I will make you forget everything but me," he said, allowing his hand to move lower, and still lower.

Her skin was like velvet to his caress, and when she moved closer to him, inviting his kiss, he was mindless with desire.

Cupping her head, his mouth moved against hers.. Garreth knew he wanted her for the rest of his life.

When he drew her against his naked body, Sabine pressed tighter against him, reveling in the feel of his muscled thighs, and wanting to be closer to him—to be a part of his warmth—to be a part of his body.

His breath was warm against her skin. She touched his hair, his face, running her finger over his lips.

He groaned as her hand moved boldly across his hips.

A sudden realization brought a stabbing pain to her heart—she loved him—oh, how deeply she loved him.

She submitted willingly when he gently moved her legs apart and hovered above her. He attempted to keep his passion under control, but he had ached for her, and now he could not stop the fire in his body or the desire that raged out of control. His body trembled as he stabbed into her.

Sabine had not expected the pain that ripped through her virgin body, and she cried out in surprise.

She could feel Garreth tense, and he withdrew from her. Rolling over, he took several deep breaths to calm the thundering of his heart. "Why didn't you tell me?" He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. "Why did you allow me to believe you had already been with a man?"

Sabine was glad for his anger, because it helped cool the intensity of her own feelings. She moved away from him, pushing her tumbled hair out of her face. "Is it a requirement that every lady you make love to tell you that she is a maiden still?"

She was on her knees; the silky red hair that fell over her shoulder did little to cover her nakedness. It was difficult for Garreth to keep from reaching out and bringing her against his body.

"You deceived me into thinking that Richard was your son," he accused.

"No, I did not." Her eyes glinted and her breasts were heaving. "I told you that he is my brother."

He did touch her now. His hand drifted through her hair. "You are every man's fantasy, but you have become my nightmare. Nothing about you is real. Are you an illusion that will disappear with dawn?"

He had come too close to the truth. Boldly, she took his hand and laid it against her breast. "This is real. Is it not enough to know that you are the first man I have ever wanted to give myself to?"

He jerked his hand away and drew in his breath, closing his eyes. "It is not enough. You have pulled me into a web of mystery that I don't understand. I sense destruction in you, and yet, I cannot leave."

She tossed her hair and pressed her body against his, and he quaked from the magnitude of his need.

"You do not want me?" she asked in a soft voice.

"Want you? I know that if you left me now, I would never know a contented day for the rest of my life." He pressed her to him. "God help me, for I cannot help myself."

That was the confession she had been waiting to hear. Her lips parted as she moved toward him, and he was lost. The sweetness of her filled his mind, his heart, his whole being.

Sabine did not remember drifting back against the pillow. She only knew that he was kissing her and calling her name over and over. When he entered her body this time, it was with gentleness, and she gasped with each thrust he made. The love between them seemed so pure, so right. If only ... if only....

She tried not to think of the wonderful feelings that he aroused in her. In a moment of desperation, she sought his lips, biting until she brought blood.

Pushing her away, he laughed and tested his lip. "Temptress, your teeth are sharp."

Gathering her in his arms once more, his lips slid over hers, and she groaned as he moved sensuously within her. She gasped and her body trembled as his warmth spilled into her body and her body answered.

His kiss was long and drugging. It felt as though every breath he took circulated through her body and they breathed as one.

They lay there holding each other, both affected by what had happened between them. While Sabine curled against him she turned her head to look out the window, wondering if it were possible to love where one hated.

Garreth allowed his hands to say what he was feeling as they gently slid over her body and then into her hair.

The light fell across the bed, and Sabine turned to look into his eyes that were soft with an expression that took her breath away.

"Garreth, I have often wondered about lovemaking, but I never imagined it would be so ... wonderful."

He pressed her tighter to him, as if by doing so, he could absorb her into his body. "1 have never felt this way before." He touched his lips to hers and smiled. "You leave me breathless."

"Then I pleased you?" She dropped her head against his chest, suddenly shy because of the intensity she saw reflected in his eyes.

"I will never let you go now. We belong together, and you cannot deny it."

She raised her head, daring to look into his eyes once more. This was the moment she had waited for, the moment she would seal her revenge—then why did it hurt so much? "Do you truly love me, Garreth?"

He placed his finger over her lips. "I have an ache within me that only you can soothe. I want to be with you every day, to spend the rest of my life with you. What else can it be, if not love?"

She hated the tears that spilled down her face at his admission. Sabine was caught in a trap of her own making. Was not this her moment of triumph? Why then did she want to feel his arms about her, holding her so tightly that when he took a breath she would feel it?

She leaned back on her elbow, watching his handsome face in the soft moon glow. She could not think of him as the man who had destroyed her life. He was loving and kind. And, oh, how she wanted to be with him again.

Garreth pushed her hair aside and touched her ear with his lips. "Let me hear you say how you feel about me.

She let out her breath, knowing that the words she must speak were indeed the truth. "I love you from the depths of my soul, and I will love you until the end of my life."

She heard his sharp intake of breath as he held her tightly. "And yet," he said in a painful voice, "I do not know who you are. I do not even know what to call you. I despise the name, La Flamme, because I know it is not really you."

"I cannot tell you my name at this time. But I promise you, Garreth, that when you awake in the morning, the mystery about me shall be unraveled."

He smiled softly and touched his lips to her cheek. "Why must I wait?" He kissed her lips and then raised his head. "I warn you, I am a jealous lover. I no longer want you to be onstage where other men can watch you and want you. You belong to me alone."

How simple it would be, she thought, to admit to him that she was his wife, and that this was the last time she would ever be known as La Flamme. The words ached to be spoken, but she dared not. "I belong to you tonight, but beyond that, I can promise nothing."

He laughed, feeling too sure of their love to be concerned. "You will never be free of me, nor, I think, will you want to be."

"What future can we have together? You are an important man, a friend to the king, and I am merely an actress. Would you dare to introduce me to your king? Would you dare make me your duchess?"