La Flamme (Historical Romance) (28 page)

He grabbed her arm, his fingers tightening on her tender skin. Garreth could almost imagine what had transpired at that meeting. If only he had known about it before, he might have prevented the tragedy that had taken place at Woodbridge. "What did she say?"

Sabine wondered why he had such an impassioned reaction to her confession. "It was of no importance—it happened long ago." Was Lady Meredith the reason he'd lingered so long in London? She jerked her arm free of his grip. "I received a letter from a lady who refused to identify herself. She considered that she was doing me a kindness by informing me that you had met with Lady Meredith while in London in a most public place—St. James's Palace."

"It took the gossips less time than I thought to get to you." He wished he could tell her the truth. He was almost certain the letter she had received had been written by Eugenia herself. "May I see the letter?"

"It was offensive to me so I tore it into pieces and threw it into the fireplace."

"Your informant was less than honest if she believes that the meeting between myself and Lady Meredith was of any importance. Now I must ask you to excuse me, Sabine. There is something that requires my attention."

She watched him leave the room, his back rigid, his steps purposeful. Why had she mentioned Lady Meredith to him? It was evident that he had not wanted to discuss the woman with her. Slowly, and with a heavy heart, she ascended the stairs.

Garreth had been in love with her in Paris. Had her actions driven him into Lady Meredith's arms?

31

Ysabel was waiting to helped Sabine undress. She slipped a soft nightgown over Sabine's head and tied the laces at the neck. "You look very pale—do you want me to stay with you for a while?"

"No, I'll be fine. It's late and you need your rest."

Ysabel pulled the blanket down and watched Sabine climb into the high bed. Her eyes twinkled when she spoke. "When I was with my husband, we had very few arguments that could not be solved in the bed."

"Ysabel!" Sabine said in a shocked voice. "I am not in this bed to end an argument, but rather because my husband is a proud man and does not want the servants to know that we are not happily wedded."

Ysabel moved to the door. "Just think on what I've said."

*                                          *                                          *

Garreth took Captain Barkley into his confidence. "You understand that there may be real danger for her grace. Have several men patrol the woods daily, and post a man in the village to watch for Lady Meredith, should she pass this way. I do not expect trouble, but I am unwilling to take any risks. Allow no strangers through the gates."

"I will see to it at once, Your Grace. No one will get past us."

After Captain Barkley had departed, Garreth sat for a long moment, pondering his situation. Since learning of Eugenia's visit with Sabine before the raid on Woodbridge, he understood the extent of her madness. She would somehow try to get into the Keep, and he intended to stop her.

He considered warning Sabine about Eugenia, but decided against it. She'd already had enough upheaval in her life, and he had to think of the child she carried.

Garreth left his study and slowly climbed the stairs. His footsteps slowed as he reached his bedchamber. Instead he entered his dressing room, where he found his valet waiting for him. After he had dismissed his man, Garreth entered his bedchamber through the connecting doors.

There was but a single candle burning, and it appeared that Sabine was asleep. She had moved close to the edge of the bed.

He blew out the candle, and moonlight spilled into the room. Quietly, he eased himself into bed, smiling because he knew she was only pretending to be asleep.

"Good night, Sabine," he whispered.

"I won't allow you to touch me," she said, coming quickly to a sitting position.

"You are assuming that I would want to touch you, Sabine."

"I... you ... then it is as I suspected, you are making me share your bed because you fear the servants will talk."

"Is that what you think?"

"Y-yes."

He smiled to himself. "Servants are great gossips. We must do all we can to keep them from learning all our secrets."

There was a long, poignant silence, and Garreth could feel Sabine's anxiety. "You have nothing to fear from me, Sabine. I'm not going to attack you."

She lay back against her pillow and squeezed her eyes shut. She had expected him to make love to her—why was she disappointed because he seemed uninterested in her? She stared out the window at the branches of the tall oak tree that swayed like dancing shadows in the wind. She tried not to think about Garreth, but he was so near, she could reach out and touch him.

The tension was so heavy that she could scarcely catch her breath. At last she spoke. "Did you see Stephen while you were in London?"

"Yes, he asked that I give you his regards."

"I often think of him. He was a good friend to me."

Garreth was surprised by the sudden feeling of jealousy. "He's enjoying the attentions of many young ladies. I believe before the year is over, he will have chosen a bride."

"Surely Stephen has not been ordered by the king to marry as you were?"

"No. Fortunately for him, the king has no particular interest in his marital situation."

She winced. "Unlike yours, Garreth."

"No, not like mine." She heard his deep intake of breath. "I was going to tell you in the morning that I spent an afternoon with Richard. I also spoke to his headmaster, who praised Richard and told me that he was his most promising student."

"Is he ... did he seem lonely to you?"

"Yes, somewhat, but give him time, Sabine. I could see that he cultivated many friends."

"Thank you for seeing him."

"I asked him to come here in the summer, and he's agreed, although he feels obligated to go to Woodbridge first."

"1 worry about him. After all, he's just a boy and this is his first time on his own."

"I never saw a more mature and responsible lad. You taught him well, Sabine. Now, let him stand on his own. He will soon face a great responsibility, and he needs to be prepared for that."

She held her breath when she felt him move, then her heart sank when she realized he had merely shifted his weight.

"Good night, Sabine."

She did not answer. Long after she heard the steady breathing that made her think he was asleep, she lay awake, wanting to reach out and touch him. She had wronged him so—and he must have suffered because everyone had believed him guilty.

She had never known a more honorable man than Garreth, and she was proud to be his wife. Turning slowly, so as not to wake him, she watched him sleeping in the faint moonlight. Her heart drummed inside her, and she thought it would burst from the love she had for him. At last, she could no longer resist the urge to touch him—he was asleep, he would never know.

Lightly she touched his face. She gasped when he gripped her hand and opened his eyes.

"You should not have done that, Sabine."

Roughly he slammed her body against his. "I vowed I would not touch you unless you wanted me to." His lips brushed through her hair, and his voice deepened. "The most difficult thing I have ever done was to lay beside you and pretend indifference."

She closed her eyes tightly as her skin tingled everywhere his lips touched.

His hand moved to the tie at her throat, and he yanked it, causing the nightgown to spread open and one of her breasts to fall into his hand. Gently he caressed it, sending shivers of delight through her every nerve end.

"Do you want me to stop touching you, Sabine?"

"Garreth, I was just..."

His fingers circled her nipple, and she could no longer speak. "You were just what, Sabine?"

She moaned, moving her head so her lips were near his. "Oh, Garreth, I don't know."

His hand slid up her arm. "Why did you come to Wolfeton Keep?"

"You ordered me to." Her voice was tremulous.

A slow smile curved his lips. "And you always do what you are told, my flaming-haired wife."

His mouth slid down her face and settled near her lips in a teasing kiss, while his expert hands moved enticingly across her body, touching every curve. He pushed her gown off her shoulders and nestled his lips between her breasts.

With every beat of her heart, Sabine gloried in his touch. She ached for him to master her body as he had before.

Suddenly he pulled back, his hand touching her swollen stomach. "Forgive me, for a moment I forgot about the child. I would not want to hurt you."

She pressed her hand on top of his. "Do you want to feel the baby?"

His eyes widened in wonder as he felt movement beneath his hand. There was a tightening about his heart that he could not understand. "The baby moves within a woman's body. I never knew this."

Gently, he moved his hand across her stomach, in awe of his own creation. "Now the child becomes real to me. I never thought about it as a living person."

At that moment, the child moved again. "Tis a miracle!" he said.

As if he had no control of their movements, his hands moved to tangle in her hair, and he turned her face to him. "Is it so bad that you carry my seed within your body?"

"As you said—a miracle."

With silken words, he whispered in her ear. "I thought I would never hold you like this again."

She could not speak because her heart was so full, and she was enveloped by his warmth.

"But we have unfinished matters," he went on.

"What do you mean?" she asked, her hand gliding across his shoulder.

Garreth caught her chin and forced her to look at him. "Why did you leave me—the real reason?"

"I... had to."

"That is no answer."

"I was afraid of you." She raised her head, her eyes seeking his. "And I wanted to punish you."

He gently ran his finger over her lips. "Didn't you know that I could never have harmed you? And if you wanted to punish me, you succeeded."

She moved away from him, but he clasped her shoulder and drew her back. "I want you, Sabine, and you want me. It may not be love—call it what you like, but it's strong and it's real. I will have you if it will do no harm to the baby."

She melted against him, giving in to the urgency of his touch. "It will do no harm," she said, unmindful of anything but the desire that flamed in his dark eyes.

He rolled to his back, carefully bringing her on top of him to rest against his body. A thrill vibrated through her as he supported her while arching upward and sliding into her body. His movements kindled fire within her heart, and she surrendered breathlessly to his probing invasion.

Her fingers curled in his hair as she boldly pressed her mouth against his, drawing a moan of pleasure from him.

"Sabine, Sabine," he whispered, "you're in my blood, and I am in yours. We will never be free of each other."

Her lips parted to receive his kiss, and she groaned as he satisfied her aching body. She was unaware that he kept his raging desire under control, fearing he would do harm to her or the baby.

Searing passion carried her to dazzling heights. Her flesh tingled, her mind soared. This was where she wanted to be—this was what she was born for, to give and receive pleasure from her husband.

Long afterward, Garreth held her in his arms. Neither of them would speak, because there were no words that could express what had happened to them.

"It will be like this every time for us," he said at last.

"Yes," she agreed.

At last he sighed and untangled himself from her, turning his back. "Good night, Sabine."

She had the feeling that he had been waiting for her to say something—but what? "Good night."

Turning her head, she stared at moonlight spilling through the window and casting shadowy patterns across the floor, until at last her eyes drifted shut and she slept.

When she awoke, it was morning, and Garreth was no longer beside her. It was almost as if she had dreamed him.

Ysabel entered cheerfully, carrying Sabine's breakfast tray. She took in the tumbled condition of the bed, and smiled to herself. "The sun's shining and it feels spring like."

"It's warmer here than at Woodbridge, yet spring is still weeks away."

Ysabel propped the pillows up for Sabine and then placed the tray across her lap. "Have you and his grace plans for the day?"

"If his grace has plans, they do not include me. I feel time heavy on my hands. At Woodbridge, there was much for me to do. Here, the well-trained servants go about their tasks quietly and efficiently, needing no instruction from me."

"I suspect the servants have been trained by his grace's mother."

There was a knock on the door, and Ysabel opened it to Mrs. North. "His grace has instructed me to make ready the room across the hall for her grace. I've had the room cleaned and aired and a nice cheery fire is burning in the hearth. When you are ready, I'll have her grace's trunks moved."

"Very well," Ysabel said. "I will let you know."

She closed the door and turned to see the distress on Sabine's face. "Did you know about this?"

Sabine shook her head. "No." She looked down to study her hands. "It suits me well enough to have my own bedchamber. I am restless at night." She glanced up at Ysabel. "It's what I wanted, is it not?"

Ysabel knew Sabine was feeling dejected. "I daresay his grace is doing what he thinks will make you happy. You did demand your own rooms," Ysabel reminded her. "Should you fault him for honoring your request?"

Sabine pushed the tray aside and grabbed her robe. "I don't want to eat. I would like to bathe and dress now so I might see my new quarters."

Ysabel sighed, wondering if Sabine would ever allow herself to be happy.

Sabine's bedchamber was well furnished. Priceless tapestries adorned two walls. The bed hangings and curtains were of purple velvet, trimmed with golden fringe. The chairs and couches were of ivory silk, while a Turkish rug brought the conflicting colors into harmony.

Mrs. North told Sabine that after the wedding the dowager duchess had overseen the redecorating of the chambers with Sabine in mind. That was little comfort to Sabine, but she settled into her new suite with no notion why Garreth had banished her from his chamber after he had been so insistent that she share his bed. Had he meant to hurt her? If so, he had succeeded.