Chapter Eleven
Madelaine arched her back, attempting to buck Lucien off her.
The room spun. Black dots danced before her eyes.
She only had a few precious seconds before she passed out.
Thoughts of what he would do to her while she was unconscious prodded her terror to another level.
Her body fought for its next breath. Her lungs screamed in agony.
Mon Dieu, she was going to die.
With the last of her strength, she raked her nails down his face, opening the skin on his cheek. Beads of blood popped up and he cursed. Vile words no religious man should ever utter flew from his mouth but his hold did not weaken.
His face swam before her, his mouth twisted in an ugly sneer, his eyes snapping with excitement and anger.
She wanted death, even prayed for it during the last few nights, but she didn’t want Lucien’s evil face to be the last thing she saw.
She closed her eyes and pictured Christien as he was in the keep the day after she met him.
With the sun shining down on his black hair and a smile on his face.
She recalled his laughter and how it made her tingle.
Suddenly the pressure on her throat disappeared. Lucien flew backward, landing on the ground with a loud rush of air. The deadly tip of a sword pressed into his throat. Christien stood above him, his chest heaving, his expression fierce, brows drawn, lips pulled back into a snarl.
Madelaine scrambled to the corner of the room and tucked her knees to her chin, breathing sweet air through her raw and bruised throat.
“What in the bloody hell is going on?” Christien growled.
Lucien rose up on his elbows and dug the heels of his boots into the rotted rushes, trying to scoot back. “I was sent here by the count to drive the demons from her.” His words were bold but his tone wavered.
Christien cast her a quick look. “Demons?” He laughed, but cut it off abruptly and pressed his sword into Lucien’s neck, causing the man to gasp. “Try again.”
“By all that is holy, I swear. The count feared she’d been possessed and implored me to rid her of the evil inside her.”
One black eyebrow rose. “By strangling her? Is that how you perform your exorcisms, brother?”
Lucien swallowed. The tip of Christien’s sword bobbed with the movement, drawing blood. Lucien shot Madelaine a look filled with such vitriolic hatred she had to look away and take another deep breath.
Christien leaned down, his face filled with seething fury. “Come near her again and you are a dead man, brother or not.”
Lucien nodded and Christien removed his sword. “Leave before I change my mind and skewer you.”
Quickly Lucien scrambled to his feet and scurried out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
Christien sheathed his sword, but it took a moment for him to turn around and face her. His shoulders rose and fell in even breaths. His fingers curled into fists at his sides.
Madelaine pressed her chin to her knees and wrapped her arms around her legs to keep from trembling.
When he finally turned, anger sparked from his eyes, turning them a churning gray. The muscles jumped in his tightly clenched jaw.
He crouched before her and reached out a hand. It hovered above her cheek before dropping to his side. Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair. “Madelaine,” he whispered, his tone tortured.
Madelaine’s sobs were building in her throat, choking her as surely as Lucien’s hands had choked her.
Part of her didn’t believe Christien was here.
That same part tried to tell her she had died and was in a different place.
A place where dreams still existed. But her dreams wouldn’t be this painful or her terror so acute.
Tears blurred her vision and leaked down her cheeks.
“Ah, chérie.” He touched her, lightly brushing away her tears with the pad of his thumb.
His sword clanked against the stone floor when he sat.
Carefully, as if she were fragile, he pulled her into his lap.
With his hand on the back of her head, he guided her cheek to his chest, the rough fabric soaking up her tears.
She clung to his tunic, burying her face in his chest and sobbed until she was left with nothing but ragged breaths that pained her raw throat.
“Why didn’t you kill him?” she finally rasped.
“Killing him would have heaped more trouble upon us. Your husband would have me drawn and quartered and where would you be then?”
Christien was right. As much as she wanted Lucien dead, killing him would only bring more trouble. Yet what was she to do now? Lucien knew of her plan to escape and would never allow it. Would he tell her husband? If he did, she was as good as dead. And what about Christien?
“He could have you killed.”
Christien ran his hand down the hair that had come loose from her fight with Lucien.
The action so reminded her of when her mère would soothe her it brought a wave of more tears silently leaking down her cheeks.
She tried to scoot closer, to absorb his warmth and strength but other than crawling inside him, she couldn’t get any closer.
“Lucien will not tell the count of his humiliation.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I know men like him. He will not want anyone to know of his defeat. And he won’t want your husband to banish him from the castle.”
Madelaine highly doubted the count would banish Lucien from the castle. Her husband put all his trust in Lucien and would believe the priest over anything she said. If anyone were to be punished, ’twould be her.
Christien rested his chin on the top of her head and sighed. “Ah, Madelaine. I hate that you are here and I hate more that I’m unable to do anything about it.”
Tears blurred her vision. If only circumstances were different.
If only her family wasn’t so powerful and she would have been allowed to marry someone like Christien.
Someone tender and caring and strong enough to protect her.
If only the king hadn’t demanded the count join his power with her father’s.
And if only she had not been the pawn in the bargain.
“Is it true what he said? Does the count believe you are possessed?”
“Yes.”
“What gave him such an idea?”
She was silent for a long while, not wanting to tell him how devastated she’d been when he left her and of the erroneous hope that he would save her.
She’d been a fool to ignore the fact that Christien was as tied to his vows as she was to hers.
However much her heart still yearned to believe he was her savior, her mind told her otherwise.
He would offer his protection while he was here, but his appearances were rare.
It was up to her to save herself. And the one chance she had was now gone.
Even if Lucien didn’t tell her husband—which she highly doubted—Lucien himself would be watching her.
“Madelaine?” Christien moved his shoulder, jostling her out of her musings. “Why does he believe you are possessed?”
“Because I no longer fear him.” Or at least she thought she no longer feared him. Now she realized how na?ve she had been.
“Why do you no longer fear him?”
She shrugged. “He has done everything he can to me. What more is there except death and death is what I prefer to this existence.”
Christien made a sound in his throat and held her tighter. “Do not say such things.”
“It is true. I will die eventually. More likely sooner than later.”
“Arrête. Stop this.”
Christien refused to see what was in front of him, but hopes and dreams had been stripped from Madelaine and she was well aware what the future held. She’d been a fool to believe she could run away.
She turned in Christien’s arms to face him. “He married me for political gain. He does not love me. He does not know how to love, only to hate and to hurt.” She touched Christien’s face, her fingers gliding along the rough stubble of his clenched jaw. “That will not change, Christien.”
“Then we will change the circumstances.”
She tried to smile through the tears gathering in her eyes. Ah, her soldier of Christ, always fighting the good fight. But this he could not fight. He had no claim to her and no way to save her but to take her away and if he took her from here, they would be hunted and killed.
“So his plan is to declare you possessed and then what? Lock you away? Kill you?”
“No. He wants me to know he has the power to do whatever he wants with me. And he is right.” She laid her head over his beating heart. “He is the one who is evil.”
Christien lifted her head by placing his thumb under her chin. “But Lucien wasn’t performing an ‘exorcism’ when I entered, was he?” His eyes burned with fury and his muscles tightened with suppressed anger. “Madelaine? Has he hurt you before?”
She thought of all the times Lucien cornered her and touched her. Of the times his dark, glistening eyes followed her around the hall. She recalled his hate-filled face when he attacked her. She shuddered to think what would have happened if she hadn’t fought back. “Not like this.”
He cursed again. “Woman, I do not know how you survive in this pit of hell day after day. If I had but the power…”
His voice trailed away and she looked up at the helplessness written on his face.
“I wish you did have the power,” she said softly.
He made a sound low in his throat and closed his eyes briefly. “What am I to do with you?”
Keep holding me like this, she wanted to say.
But she held her tongue for that was the old Madelaine talking.
The new Madelaine understood nothing good could come of what was between them.
Lucien would not go away because Christien threatened him and eventually he would go to her husband and tell him about Christien. Then neither of them would be safe.
“I am concerned for your safety.”
She huffed out a breath that was the closest thing to a laugh she could manage. “There is no safety in these walls.”