Chapter 20 #2
He fought the urge to return the kiss. But at the raw desperation in her touch, he succumbed.
At her soft moans, Colyne skimmed his fingers down to pull her flush against him. His body burning, he backed her against the stall, took the kiss deeper. She shuddered beneath him.
A horse to their right snorted. Another toward the back of the stable shifted restlessly.
Shaken at how she could strip his control, Colyne pulled free, his breath unsteady, his body hard with unspent desire. What was he thinking? Anyone could come upon them. He shook his head. “Nay, ’tis wrong.”
“My father is mistaken not to end the betrothal,” she rushed out, passion clinging to her words.
“He is a king who loves his daughter but has his country’s interests to consider as well. Your betrothed is a powerful man.”
“And a man I do not want,” she said. “After you left, I begged, pleaded with him, but he refused to change his mind.” She sniffed. “It is you I love, you I need.”
As if he didna feel the same. The warmth of her tears stained his neck and melded with his own. For long moments he held her, savoring the feel of her body against his, the way her breath caressed his skin, how she brought peace to his heart.
After a long while, her sobs quieted.
On a rough sigh, he kissed her brow, damning his decision. “On the morrow I shall go.”
She gasped. “Why? For your bravery, my father has invited you to remain a fortnight.”
“And if I stayed, what? Can you guarantee we would nae meet again where none can see us? That we would nae make love?” He released her, paced to a nearby stall then returned.
“I swore to myself nae to touch you. Yet, here, where any could come upon us, we risk the greatest sin. For if I believed ’twas safe, I would make love with you. You are a temptation I canna resist.”
A gust of wind spiraled wisps of hay across the courtyard as the cry of a baby echoed somewhere in the night, mingling with the distant laughter of guards on the wall walk. Marie remained silent, but the flicker of torchlights in the bailey exposed the tears rolling down her cheeks.
“I have confidence your father will find those responsible for your abduction,” Colyne said, needing to change the subject.
“I cannot lose you,” she whispered.
A muscle worked in his jaw. “ ’Tis nae a choice.”
Silence fell between them, cold, hard with the pain of truth.
She sniffed. “I hate this.”
“As do I.”
“If Renard is still in France,” she said with vengeance, “he will regret that he did not flee to England when he had the opportunity.”
“Aye,” Colyne replied, through sheer will bringing his emotions under control. “But his involvement far from explains how he was able to bypass your guards and abduct you.”
“A puzzle my father said he and Gaston have discussed at length.”
At her familiar use of her betrothed’s name, Colyne flinched, again damned that he could nae sway the king to end the betrothal.
“’Twas daring of the English duke to request an audience with my father to plant false accusations against the Scottish rebels.”
“Aye, a brazen act that convinced King Philip of a lie.”
“And one that persuaded Gaston as well.” She paused. “Neither can I forget how Gaston reminded my father of the Duke of Renard’s warning.”
His jaw tightened as he recalled her betrothed’s caution to the king. “I find it interesting that your betrothed was so adamant in giving an Englishman’s word credence, more so with King Philip’s support of Scotland.”
“Mayhap,” Marie said, “his claim was more out of his dislike for you than his belief in your reasons for coming to France.”
Colyne grimaced, far from appeased. “Mayhap.”
Her eyes widened. “Mon Dieu!”
He stilled. “What is it?”
What if,” she whispered, “Gaston helped in planning my abduction?”
Tension thrummed through him. “Why would he, with your hand already promised to him? There was naught for him to gain by becoming involved.”
She nodded. “My ramblings were those of a dreamer. If he had indeed conspired with Renard, my father would not hesitate to sever the betrothal.”
As absurd as the idea of her betrothed involved in a treasonous plot against his sovereign seemed, Colyne couldna dismiss the thought. “His involvement would explain how your abduction transpired without event.”
She grimaced. “It would, but it does not answer why Gaston would take such a risk. Even if he was involved, how could we find proof?”
“We?” Anger slammed him hard and quick. “I will nae allow you to endanger your life. If he conspired with Renard, I will find out.”
“How?” she demanded. “You have no reason to be near my betrothed. As his intended, my presence beside him is expected.”
“A sword’s wrath! You will do naught to bring suspicion upon yourself.
” The stubbornness in her eyes assured Colyne that she’d nae heed his warning.
He shot her a cool look. “I have decided to accept your father’s offer to remain here for a fortnight.
If your betrothed was involved, I will find proof. ”
A smile touched her mouth. “I can help—”
“You will do naught. I will have your promise!”
“Promise?” her betrothed demanded with a dangerous edge as he stepped into the stable.
Colyne whirled to face the duke, pushing Marie behind him as he grasped the hilt of his sword.
“ ’Twould be unwise to draw your weapon,” the duke drawled. “If I were to kill you, ’twould be in self-defense.”
At least he’d nae come upon them earlier when he’d kissed Marie. “ ’Tis unwise to eavesdrop.”
“More so for a man to engage in a clandestine meeting with my intended,” Gaston said with brittle coldness. “As you saved Marie’s life, I shall grant you leave of this illicit assignation. But should I find you alone again with my betrothed, I will kill you.”
Colyne grunted. If he were challenged, the bastard would die.
The duke extended his hand. “Marie, come here.”
She stiffened behind Colyne.
Hating what he must do, he drew her forward. “We will speak later.”
“You will not!” The duke’s nostrils flared. “Except for public meetings, she is not to meet with you. I forbid it.”
Marie’s body shook with fury. “You will not dictate who I see.”
“This is not a topic I shall discuss in public,” Gaston stated with cold warning.
“Go,” Colyne said.
“For you,” she said under her breath as she passed him. With her head high, she walked to her betrothed.
Colyne damned the moment she placed her hand in the duke’s, damned that decorum forced him to watch the woman he loved walk away with a man she despised.
Neither could he risk losing his freedom.
He had a fortnight to discover the truth.
If Gaston had been involved in the plot to abduct Marie, he’d find out.