Secret Heart (16 page)

Her gaze
slid away from his for a moment. She appeared to be thinking about
what he’d just said.

“
What of
your family?” she asked, just as he had feared she would. “Are your
parents still alive?”

“
My
mother died when I was very young.”

“
I am
sorry. And your father?”

“
I do not
discuss my father.” He clamped his jaw shut on the abrupt words.
How he wished he had not responded to her first question. Jenia was
as insistent with him as he had ever been with her.

“
Why not
talk about your father?” She laid a hand on his arm. “Roarke? Tell
me, please?”

“
Why
should I tell you anything, when you refuse to confide in me?” He
knew he sounded childish, but he couldn’t help himself, not where
his father was concerned.

“
Because
you remember and I do not,” Jenia said.

“
Lady,
you lie in your teeth.” He rose to pace away from her, knowing the
irritation he directed toward her in that moment was actually meant
for his father. “You remember very well. You just won’t admit
it.”

“
I do
admit it. I told you as much only yesterday. I thought you
understood.”

When
Roarke spun around to stare down at her in amazement at what she’d
just said, he found her sitting with her head bent and her gaze on
the fingers twisted together in her lap.

“
I have
explained to you how I am sworn to silence until after I reach the
royal court,” she said. “Are you sworn to silence about your
father?”

“
It would
be better if I were,” he rasped, frowning at her.

“
What can
a parent have done to elicit so harsh a response to a simple
question?” She looked up then, her eyes wide and her lips curving
into a half smile.

“
Do you
really want to know?”

When she nodded, it occurred to Roarke that
if he told her the worst about himself and his father, perhaps she
would in turn reveal something of her own past and of the terrible
memories she had mentioned.

“
Very
well,” he said. “I’ll tell you the sordid tale. Did you know Garit
has a sister? No, I suppose he hasn’t mentioned her in the short
time we’ve known you. Nowadays, he pretends she doesn’t
exist.”

“
Why?”
She looked so solemn and so interested that Roarke continued the
unpleasant story.

“
Lady
Marjorie has the same color hair as her brother, and the same
sparkling blue eyes. There the resemblance ends. Unlike Garit, she
is beautiful of face, but she is dishonest where he is honorable.
Some years ago, shortly before he and I were to be knighted I
visited Garit’s home at Kinath in Kantia, and there I met Marjorie.
She entranced me, so much so that I asked her father for permission
to wed her. I believed she cared for me.”

“
And she
didn’t?” Jenia asked softly. “You must have been terribly
disappointed when she refused you.”

“
Oh, she
promised to marry me,” Roarke said. “But, of course, I had to speak
to my father first and obtain his permission to marry, and the two
parents had to agree to the marriage contract. Quite a bit of land
was involved, both in Kantia and in Sapaudia. I returned to Alton
and spoke to my father. He seemed amenable, seemed to understand
how much I wanted the marriage.

“
Since I
was obligated to return to Calean by a certain date, my – Lord
Oliver offered to travel to Kinath Castle to make the marriage
arrangements with Marjorie’s father, and then to escort her to
Calean for our wedding. So I, young fool that I was, sailed off
across the Sea of Lestrac to Sapaudia, confident that my happy
future was assured,” he ended with more bitterness than he had
intended. That was surprising; he’d thought he was over the anguish
and the disappointment.

“
What
happened?” Jenia asked. “Oh, Roarke, never tell me Lady Marjorie
died on the journey to meet you.”

“
She
lives,” he said. “Lord Oliver, the parent I had loved and respected
all of my life, took one look at Marjorie and decided he wanted her
for himself. My father married the girl he was bound to bring to me
as my betrothed. By the time the two of them reached Calean, she
was already carrying his child. I did not learn any of this until
we met at court.”`

“
Dear
heaven,” Jenia whispered.

“
Dear
heaven, indeed,” he said. “I was much younger then, and so deeply
hurt that I ignored Garit’s wise advice to keep quiet about what
had happened. I confronted Lord Oliver and Lady Marjorie in public
and accused them of betraying me. Of course, the matter became a
great scandal, and I was the object of unrelenting
pity.”

“
Which
was worse for you?” she asked with deadly insight. “The end of your
respect for your father, the loss of the girl, or the
pity?”

“
In all
honesty, I’m not sure,” he admitted. “The pity didn’t last long,
and neither did the love I’d imagined I felt toward Marjorie. If
she’d betray me with my own father, she would most likely have
taken lovers the first time after our marriage that I was absent on
some mission for King Henryk. Let Lord Oliver deal with her
faithless heart. I consider myself well rid of her.”

“
Garit
must have been hurt by the scandal, too,” she said.

“
Like the
loyal friend he is, Garit stood by me,” he told her. “He publicly
repudiated his own beloved sister for what she had done. Lord
Oliver could not challenge him for the insult, because every word
Garit spoke was true.

“
Now you
understand,” Roarke concluded, “why I cannot allow myself to care
for Lady Chantal, nor will I ever attempt to steal Garit’s beloved
away from him. Not after what he did for me.”

“
I am—”
She halted, ran her tongue across her lips, and began again.
“Roarke, you have not stolen Garit’s beloved. You could
not.”

“
Does
that mean you are not Chantal?” He bent over her, placing one hand
on the pear tree, forcing her to lean backward. “Is that what you
were going to say, that you are someone else?” He breathed in her
rose perfume and prayed she would tell the truth – whatever the
truth was, for he still could not be absolutely certain.

“
Roarke.”
She grabbed at him, perhaps to prevent herself from falling off the
bench.

Whatever her intention, as Roarke
straightened up she came with him, still clinging to his shoulders.
When they were both on their feet she was still much too close, too
tempting, too utterly desirable with her eyes wide and her bosom
heaving with sudden emotion. Wanting her, longing to make her his,
still Roarke fought the temptation. And failed.

Jenia was
in his arms, his mouth was searing across hers, and he knew he’d
never stop wanting her, not even if she wed Garit. He had thought,
years ago, that he was in love with Marjorie. Now he knew his
infatuation with Garit’s sister had been but a flaring candle
compared to a gigantic bonfire. Jenia – mysterious, lying, scheming
Jenia – was the only woman whose touch he craved, whose heart he
wanted to own.

Wanting
her, longing to make her his, to possess her completely, still he
pulled away from her and held her at arm’s length. For Garit’s
sake, for his own soul’s peace, he must stop holding her and
kissing her.

“
Tell me
who you are,” he demanded, his voice rough with desire and anger
and frustration such as he had never known before. “Jenia, I
implore you. Until I know the truth, I am in fiery torment in the
lowest Afterlife.”

“
I cannot
speak.” Tears washed down her cheeks. “I am in torment, too, but I
have sworn a solemn oath. Surely, you can understand? If you had
sworn an oath to Garit, would you ever break your word to
him?”

“
No.” The
anger leached out of him, leaving him tired and sad. The desire
remained, but he knew he could fight bodily yearning and win. He
had done it before, after losing Marjorie. He’d do it again, if the
woman standing before him proved to be Chantal after all, and if
she married Garit. The longing of his deepest soul was a different
matter and he wasn’t certain he’d be able to deal with it. Still,
his sense of honor prevailed. “I apologize for touching you,” he
told her.

“
Roarke,
you are a decent, honest man, who is trying to do the right and
honorable thing. I am sorry I’ve caused you pain. But it’s only for
a short time. Soon, this unhappiness will be over, and you will go
on with your life, with your missions for King Henryk. You will
forget about me.”

“
I think
not.” If she were Garit’s Chantal, he’d have no choice in the
matter. But she didn’t sound as if she expected to spend the rest
of her life with Garit. She sounded like a warrior about to go into
battle, as if she had accepted the very real possibility that she
wouldn’t live much longer. With a chill at his heart he wondered
yet again what her ultimate goal was in Calean.

She
started for the garden gate and he watched her leave without trying
to stop her. He knew they had to keep their distance from each
other. If ever he took her into his arms again, he wouldn’t be
strong enough to let her go. He would make her his beyond any
doubting. But he wasn’t lost to the demands of friendship and he
could recall too well the pain of Marjorie’s betrayal. He refused
to inflict such pain on Garit, not on the loyal friend who had
repudiated his family for Roarke’s sake.

“
If you
are Garit’s Chantal, I will have no choice but to try to forget
you,” he murmured. “You could end my unhappiness with a single
word, but you won’t speak it. Ah, well, whoever you are, I can take
some small comfort in knowing I love an honest woman. No matter
what the cost, you do keep your promises.”

Interlude In Calean

Roarke’s
squire, Elwin, appeared at Auremont toward nightfall of the next
day. He came escorted by four men-at-arms and with a packhorse that
was loaded down under two large baskets filled with the clothing,
cosmetics, and jewelry that Jenia would require when she made her
appearance at court.

“
I’m glad
to see you,” Roarke said to the young man after introducing him to
Jenia.

“
So am I
happy to see you again, my lord,” Elwin replied. “Anders and I were
sorely worried after you and Lord Garit rode off leaving us behind.
Your departure was so unusual that we were convinced our masters
were headed into serious danger and were trying to protect us.
Anders wept with relief when he saw Lord Garit return safe and
well.

“
Lord
Garit told Anders and me about your plan,” Elwin went on after a
moment spent staring hard at Jenia. “If I may say so, you are
indeed much like Lady Chantal.”

“
Did you
know her?” Jenia asked.

“
Only a
little. A few times, when Anders was otherwise employed, Lord Garit
asked me to carry a message to her,” Elwin said. “Lady Chantal is
most gracious and very beautiful. As are you, my lady.”

“
I thank
you for the compliment.” Jenia smiled at the blushing
squire.

“
Lord
Garit said to tell you,” Elwin continued, “that the clothing and
jewelry he sent belong to Lady Chantal, so they ought to enhance
your pretense. People at court will recall Lady Chantal wearing
them and they will be certain you and she are the same
person.”

“
That was
clever thinking on Garit’s part,” Roarke said, his gaze on Jenia
too piercing for her comfort.

“
How did
Lord Garit obtain Lady Chantal’s belongings?” Jenia
asked.

“
He
bribed the maidservant who was put in charge of cleaning and
storing them,” Elwin revealed with a broad grin. “She’s the same
maid who once carried messages from Lady Chantal to Lord Garit, and
she has always been sympathetic to him.”

“
I will
order the baskets taken to your room at once,” Roarke said,
interrupting confidences that Jenia was finding fascinating. “I
suggest you try on the gown now, to make certain it fits. If
alterations are needed, you or your maid will have to make them
immediately. We leave for Calean City at dawn tomorrow. You will
make your first appearance at court at midday.”

“
Tomorrow?” Jenia forced the words through lips suddenly
gone dry with apprehension. “So soon?”

“
Do you
have any sensible reason for waiting?” Roarke demanded.

“
No.” She
shook her head. “No reason at all. Let us be on our way as quickly
as possible, so we can finish this business.”

By
nightfall of the next day she might well be dead – or locked into
yet another dungeon to await execution. She refused to let Roarke
see the desolation and the terror that lay behind her every
thought, though she admitted the emotions to herself readily
enough. They had always been there, since the moment when she had
sworn her most solemn oath to seek retribution against a wicked,
heartless villain. Whatever the cost to herself, she would fulfill
her promise.

She just
wished she hadn’t met Roarke along the way, and wished most of all
that she hadn’t begun to love him. For love him she did, his
imperious demands and frequent sharp words notwithstanding. She
wasn’t sure whether her love had begun at the moment when he swept
her into his arms and carried her off the beach, or during the
night when he had held her and smothered her giggles against his
chest while Garit snored beside them. She turned away from Roarke
now, knowing if he saw her pain he’d start asking questions again.
He asked a question, anyway.