La Flamme (Historical Romance) (17 page)

"I find it tiresome talking about myself. Let us instead speak of you."

She shrugged. "My life is uneventful. I would like to hear about the women in your life."

"What if I said that you are the only woman in my life?"

"Then I would pity you, for I am not in your life."

He nodded toward the coachman. "We will speak of this later, when we are alone. Unlike you, I do not perform before an audience."

"I am not certain I want to be alone with you." She batted her eyelashes. "Can a woman trust you, Monsieur?"

He laughed at her coy little trick that was most enchanting. "I believe I'm the one in peril."

To Sabine's surprise, Garreth turned his attention to the Paris countryside, asking her questions and showing marked interest.

A short time later they reached the Tournes' estate. Monsieur Tourne was a gentleman short in stature and wide in girth. He was obviously impressed by La Flamme and was almost too ingratiating in his attentions.

"May I offer you, refreshments?" he asked.

"Thank you, no, Monsieur," Sabine said. "My time is limited and I would like to see the grays."

He nodded eagerly, leading them to his stables.

Garreth surveyed the animals. "They are magnificent," he said, running his hand over the muscled flank of one of the grays.

"Then I would not be making a mistake if I added them to my stable?" Sabine asked.

Garreth examined both horses' mouths and teeth, then he walked around them, lifting each hoof. "They are in excellent health. They are of Arabian blood, spirited, and no doubt swift."

"You have a practiced eye," Monsieur Tourne said. "I would not let them go to anyone except Mademoiselle La Flamme."

"How much, Monsieur?" Sabine asked.

"For you, they are a gift," the Frenchman said, bowing before her.

"
Non
, Monsieur. I will not take them without payment. What is the price?"

He shrugged. "Whatever you think is fair."

Sabine turned to Garreth and spoke in English. "Help me, so I do not cheat this man. What price would you give for the two grays?"

"Why do you not take them as a gift and make the man happy?"

"I will accept no gift from a man, so I owe favors to no one."

"A hundred francs for each would be generous." Garreth smiled. "You wouldn't want to sell them to me, would you?"

She looked at him for a moment, and then turned to the Frenchman. "Monsieur, I will leave with you my marker for two hundred francs. Kindly have the grays delivered to my stables within the week."

"If that is your wish." There was disappointment in the man's eyes because La Flamme had refused his gift. Then he brightened. "When word reaches Paris that La Flamme has favored my horses, everyone will flock to my stables."

Sabine turned away from him. "
Au revoir
, Monsieur."

She walked to the carriage, and Garreth helped her inside. "Poor man. You dealt him a blow by refusing his tribute."

The clouds had moved away and she angled her hat to protect her face from the sun's rays. "It is always the same. I have heard that he has a wife. He would have done better to bestow his favors on her."

Garreth settled beside her. "You have an objection to being admired by married gentlemen?"

Her golden eyes bore into his. "I have an aversion to being used, for whatever the reason."

He stared at her with a strange expression on his face and then shook his head as if to clear it. "For a fleeting moment, you reminded me of someone, but I can't think who. It's like a vague memory, but the illusion is gone."

She lowered her eyes, fearful that he was beginning to remember her. "We are almost home," she said, trying to sound lighthearted.

"May I see you tonight?"

"If you like," she said, turning to look at him, jarred by the heat of his eyes. "You may dine with me at my home, this evening after my performance."

A rakish smile curved his lips. "Does it make you feel safer to invite me to your home?"

"Does it make you feel unsafe, Your Grace?"

19

Garreth was waiting for La Flamme beside his coach. When she came out of the theater, she was dressed in a white velvet gown with slashed sleeves inlaid with gold. Around the hem of the skirt were dozens of tiny golden rosebuds.

He became irritated when she was immediately surrounded by admirers. She smiled to each of them and exchanged greetings. At last she was beside him, and he opened the door and whisked her inside.

When the coach pulled away, they could still hear the loud chant of those who revered her: "La Flamme! La Flamme!"

Sabine was very aware of Garreth's irritation. He was so near her that she could feel his breath stir her hair. A strange yearning came over her, and she had an urge to lay her head against his shoulder and have him hold her as he once had. She looked down at the hand that rested on his knee. It was the hand of a gentleman, long tapered fingers, with strength she could only imagine.

She was glad that the coach lights were dim so Garreth could not see how badly her hands were trembling. She stuffed them into her white velvet muff and turned to face him.

"Your countrymen have made you famous," Garreth said, still annoyed for reasons he could not say. "I had even heard of you in England. Mostly from Stephen, I admit. Before I met you, I was skeptical that anyone could be as exceptional as he claimed you were."

"And now?"

"I agree with him." The way Garreth said the words, they did not sound like a compliment. "How does it feel to be adored by so many?"

"I have little interest in such absurdities, Your Grace. I only care to give a good performance. I owe no one more than that."

"Your Jacques de Baillard is also famous in my country—there are many who speak well of him. You mentioned the night we met that his acting troupe has been invited to perform for Queen Henrietta—will you come to London?"

Sabine put on the face of a coquette and drew her white muff across his face flirtatiously. "I do not know. It has not yet been decided."

He clasped her hand and took the muff from her, tossing it on the seat. "I would like to show you England."

"Jacques makes those decisions, not I. If he says we go, then I shall go."

"Why did you agree to dine with me tonight?"

"I'm not sure I know." She gave him her most beguiling smile. "Perhaps it is because of your extraordinary charm."

His hand moved to her chin, and he turned her to face him. "Do you mock me?"

"I," she said with exaggerated surprise, "who am merely a helpless woman, mock a great titled gentleman like yourself? I would not dare."

His hand moved to the side of her face, and he brought her further into the light so he could see her eyes. No woman had ever held him so captivated. "It is my belief that you are merely toying with me, and I don't know why."

Sabine replied using words from one of Jacques' plays. "Monsieur le due, it is said that you have taken the hearts of dozens of ladies and dropped them with little remorse. I only pray that you will be kinder to me."

Garreth was not fooled, or amused, by her act. "Do not play a role with me. I am not one of your simpletons who sit in the audience every night just for a glimpse of you."

She looked at him innocently, knowing he had attended every performance since they had met. "Tell me, Monsieur le due, how many times have you been in the audience?"

Suddenly he started laughing. She had cleverly trapped him with his own words. What did it matter, when soon victory would be his? "Tonight I worship you close at hand. And I'll have you to myself."

She turned away from him, studying the silk print on the seat across from her. "I do not want to be worshipped."

"What
do
you want, La Flamme?" he asked in a low, caressing voice.

Garreth had the power to seduce her with words. She decided it would be safer to make him talk about himself. "Is it not true that you have broken many poor maidens' hearts?"

"Who has told you this?"

"The distance from London to Paris is not as considerable as you might believe. There are those who have mentioned you to me. It is said that your heart belongs to a certain Lady Meredith. Will she not care that you are dining with me tonight?"

Garreth was stunned for a moment. "That information is outdated. Tonight, I only want to talk about you and how enchanting you are."

Sabine knew she had struck a nerve and smiled as she toyed with the diamond bracelet at her wrist. "I seldom believe flattery. Especially when it comes from a highborn gentleman. Most of your class would say anything in a moment of passion,
non
?"

He nodded at her bracelet. "Did one of your highborn gentlemen give you that little trinket? I doubt it came from peasant stock."

"As I told you, I would never accept something so valuable from a man. If I did, he would believe that he had some claim on me, when I belong only to myself."

"Did Richard's father give you expensive trinkets?" Garreth asked, suddenly jealous of the unknown man.

"But of course. That was different—he had the right."

Garreth was more determined than ever to break down the barriers La Flamme had built around her heart. "What would a gentleman be required to do that he might win the right to give you gifts?"

She looked directly at him. "He would have to win my heart, and I do not believe that is possible."

"Can it be that you have just issued me a challenge?"

"No, Monsieur le due, I merely spoke the truth." Again she turned the conversation back to him. "I am sure many women have loved you."

He took an impatient breath. "Not so many."

She took her courage in hand. "It is said that you were married to a young girl of family who died under suspicious circumstances."

She could feel him stiffen. It was so silent inside the coach that the only sound that could be heard was the clopping of the horses' hooves on the cobbled streets.

"Your informant is not precisely correct, Mademoiselle. I do not yet accept the fact that my wife is dead."

His revelation came as a surprise to her. He still believed she was alive. She must not panic or show weakness. "If you have a wife, you should not have asked me to dine with you, Monsieur. I do not consider it proper."

In a sudden move that took her by surprise, Garreth gripped her by the shoulders and brought her body against his. "Does that matter?" His lips grazed her cheek. "Does anything matter except that we are together? I have no other woman in my mind or in my heart save you—does that satisfy your curiosity?"

Sabine blinked her eyes. It was becoming harder to play the coquette. "Now it is you who is toying with me, Monsieur le due. Surely, you do not expect me to believe that a man can feel so deeply about a woman he has known but a short while?"

He wanted to shake her, to make her admit that there was something rare and wonderful between them. "You know very well what you are doing to me, and I believe you enjoy keeping me on a hook." His eyes were burning into hers. "Do not play coy with me, for you are no innocent. You are aware of my feelings for you because you have felt them, too."

Her laughter was forced. "You think much of your prowess with women, Your Grace. Why should you believe that I feel anything for you but amusement?"

His arms tightened about her so that she could scarcely breathe. "Am I amusing you now?" His hand slid up her neck and he held her chin firm, while his lips were only inches from hers. "Why are you not laughing?"

Sabine's heart was beating wildly, and she was sure that she would be unable to catch her breath. "Release me," she said, hoping he didn't hear the fear in her voice.

To her surprise, Garreth did. "If you do not want me to make love to you, then tell me now. I cannot be with you and not touch you," he said gruffly.

"You go too far," she said in panic. "You asked for a companion at dinner, and that is all I agreed to, Your Grace."

He let out his breath and moved back against the coach seat. "You are right, of course. Forgive me."

She wondered why she suddenly felt like crying. "Is this the way you treat all your women?"

"What do you mean by all my women?" he asked in exasperation. "I told you that I have no women in my life."

"Not your wife . . . not your mistress? Deny it if you will, but I do not believe that a man such as yourself would deprive himself of women's companionship."

The hurt Sabine had felt so long ago came rushing back as if it had happened only yesterday. How well she remembered the pain of finding out on her wedding day that her husband loved Lady Meredith.

Garreth watched her golden eyes become piercing and cold, and that made him want her more than ever. The only woman who had touched his heart in years seemed to hold him in contempt, and he didn't know why. But there was something he did know about her— she was not as unresponsive to his touch as she would have him believe.

Sabine pushed her distress to the back of her mind. No matter what she had to do, she would find a way to reach Garreth's heart. Then she would rip it to shreds. Whatever she did to him would be no more than he deserved.

She laid her hand on his arm. "It's true that you are the only man I have ever agreed to dine with alone. I don't know what made me accept your invitation."

Garreth was not smiling. "Tell me about Richard's father."

Sabine tried not to feel triumphant as she realized that Garreth was tormented by the belief that she was Richard's mother. She would allow him to ask the questions, fuel his curiosity by her truthful answers—and lead him to a wrong conclusion. "I... loved Richard's father," she said. "I shall always love him. I was very young when he died, and I have had to take care of Richard alone. Of course, Ysabel, Marie, and Jacques have become our family. We could not have survived without them."

"Did not Richard's father provide for you?"

"He died too suddenly. He could not help us." She paused, fearing that she might cry. "I am told that his last thoughts were of us."

Garreth did not understand the burning jealousy he had for a dead man, but there were questions he must ask. "Have you loved no man since Richard's father?"

"Not in the same way I loved him. But Richard's father is dead, and I am alive."

"How do I contend with a ghost?" Garreth asked, voicing his frustration.

"Indeed," Sabine said, hatred battling for dominance within her. "Richard's father's ghost does stand between us!"

"It's difficult for me to believe that a woman as beautiful as you has lived a chaste life. Yet, that is what is said about you."

Sabine bit her trembling lip. "I am gratified that you think me beautiful. But I do not believe you should concern yourself about my life."

"Whether you welcome it or not, I'm in your life." His eyes were suddenly piercing. "You want something from me, and I do not know what it is."

By now the coach had reached its destination, and Sabine glanced at the brightly lit chateau. She had been so engrossed with their conversation that she had not noticed they had driven into the country.

"What is this place, Monsieur le due? This is not my home."

"We have arrived at Stephen's chateau."

"Why did you bring me here, and where is Stephen?"

"I brought you here so we could be alone. Stephen will be staying in Paris tonight."

Before Sabine could protest, the coach door was whisked open and a footman lowered the steps, offering his arm to her. She reluctantly stepped down and allowed Garreth to lead her inside. Her plan had been to be alone with him, but at her home, not here.

"Do not be concerned," he said next to her ear so the butler could not hear. "We shall be quite alone except for the servants, and they will serve us and leave."

She stiffly allowed him to lead her down a hallway.

"Why did you not ask me if I would come here with you?" she demanded. "I do not like to be tricked."

He merely smiled. "I did not trick you. Had you asked where we were going, I would have told you."

"I find your manners questionable. Do you not think 1 should have been given the choice of accepting or refusing?"

"If I am in error, I will take you back to Paris at once. You have only to say the word."

"I have given you no reason to believe that I am promiscuous and would welcome such an arrangement."

His eyes settled on her lips. "Forgive me. You are right, of course—I did take liberties."

She reconsidered. "I will have dinner with you, but then you must take me home."

She expected him to look triumphant, but he merely nodded. If she didn't know better, she would have thought he was unsure of himself.

"I believe everything is in readiness." He offered her his arm. "Shall we dine?"

Sabine laid the tips of her fingers on his sleeve. "One can only hope that I shall still have a reputation by morning."

Garreth was mystified. An actress, after all, was not considered a lady. Why did he have the feeling she was an innocent? Because, he reminded himself, she was an actress, and that was what she wanted him to believe.