Chapter Eleven #2
He tipped her head up and she saw, in the bright depths of his silver eyes, how frightened he was for her. ’Twas a different feeling, knowing someone cared for her well-being.
“Come.” He stood and took her hand, gently helping her to stand on wobbling legs. Her head swam, but Christien’s comforting hold didn’t leave her until everything righted itself.
“Do you carry a dagger?”
She shook her head. “The count forbids me to carry any weapons besides my eating dagger. He insists he can protect his property himself.”
“More than likely it is to protect his own miserable hide,” he muttered, causing her to smile sadly.
’Twas a thought she’d often had. She may be na?ve, but she wasn’t foolish.
She understood her husband kept her unarmed for a reason.
Many a time she wished for a weapon to plunge into his black heart.
“I am going to teach you to defend yourself. There are ways to fight that require naught but your own fingers and hands. How many times have you encountered Lucien alone?”
“Occasionally.”
Christien looked down his nose at her, his expression so severe it bordered on silly and caused her lips to twitch in amusement. “It is me you are speaking with, Madelaine. You can be truthful. It’s more than occasionally, is it not?”
Startled, Madelaine stared at him for a moment.
He was right. This was Christien, she could tell him anything.
She’d been alone for so long she’d become used to the fact she had no one to confide in.
Even her maids reported to her husband, and Madelaine learned to hide everything from everyone at all times.
It had become so ingrained in her she forgot what it was like to actually have a friend to speak openly to. Even now the idea seemed extraordinary.
“It depends on his mood,” she said. “If he’s in a particularly vile mood I know to stay away.”
“And if he searches you out?”
“I try to make sure that never happens.”
“But it does.” He searched her face, reading her thoughts clearly. “I am going to teach you how to protect yourself, ma chérie.”
He grabbed her bliaut and yanked her hard against his body in a move so sudden and unexpected she could only gasp. Her body went rigid, frozen as fear took over.
“Fight me,” he said between clenched teeth.
She stared up at him, unmoving, and he shook her. Not hard, but enough to jerk her head back and for her to cry out softly. “Fight! Pretend I’m Lucien and fight me.”
She continued to stare at him, her body as limp as a child’s rag doll.
He shoved her away from him hard enough for her to stumble and grab on to the small wooden table in front of the fireplace.
Her legs started to go numb but she held herself up.
What was wrong with her? ’Twas Christien.
He didn’t mean her harm. Yet, her mind didn’t comprehend that.
“Is this how you react when confronted with Lucien? Mon Dieu, woman, no wonder he bullies you.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and took a step toward her. She made a small sound and backed up.
’Tis only Christien. She knew he was trying to educate her. To arm her with knowledge to better protect herself, but the attack was so unexpected, she panicked.
“I am trying to teach you to defend yourself, Madelaine,” he said softly, as if realizing he had pushed her to the very edge of her endurance.
“What will that get me?” she asked. “I fight back. He fights harder. He’s stronger than I, and if my husband were to discover I can fight back, he will be furious.”
Christien blew a breath out between his teeth. “You need to defend yourself. Or have you given up all hope? Have you resigned yourself to this…this abusive life?”
“I shoved Lucien once,” she said softly. “After he pushed me into a dark alcove and…” She turned her head away, her face heating in humiliation. “He touched me.”
Christien’s fingers curled around the hilt of his sword. “And what did he do when you pushed him?”
“I know not.” Her shoulders came up in a shrug. “I ran away.”
Christien lifted her chin gently. “Madelaine, this man enjoys hurting you. ’Tis obvious you fear him. Men like Lucien, and even your husband, feed on that fear. If you fight back, mayhap he’ll leave you be.”
“And mayhap not.”
Christien’s hold on her chin turned into a caress, his rough fingers sliding along her skin in such a way that a shiver raced up her spine.
She thought of the night in the garden when her husband was so close but Christien closer and of the feelings he’d awakened in her.
Feelings she desperately wanted to experience again.
“Have you told your husband?”
She shook her head. “He would not believe me. He puts his trust in Lucien and would not like to know his trust is misplaced.”
“Then he is a fool. Everyone makes mistakes. Especially when it comes to someone’s character.”
“Not my husband.”
“Most especially your husband.” Christien stepped back. “You must learn to fight Lucien. If you cannot avoid him, then you must fight him so he will never approach you again.”
“I try to stay away. I’m very vigilant.”
“What happened today?”
“I thought I was alone but he must have followed me.” Her gaze jumped to the bed and the clothes Lucien had thrown on the mattress. Her suppressed fear broke free. How had it come to this? Such a hopeless situation. Much like her life since coming here.
Lucien had carefully cultivated his reputation of a man in control of everything and with an answer to every question.
To many of the men, including her husband, Lucien was all-knowing and all-seeing.
He was the closest thing to God here. Lucien wouldn’t destroy everyone’s belief.
He would keep quiet, but he would silently seethe and he would come back.
Fighting him wasn’t going to save her, merely delay the inevitable. She looked at Christien, at the hope in his face and remembered a time when she’d been as hopeful, before everything she believed in was destroyed.
“Let me help you,” he said softly.
She was so tired. So weary of her life. Danger lurked everywhere she turned—from her husband, from Lucien. Even Christien was a danger to her heart. And her love for him was a danger to her well-being if her husband were to discover them. And he would eventually.
“Madelaine?” He searched her eyes. His lips turned down. “What is wrong, mon couer?”
“Hold me,” she whispered, swaying beneath the gravity of her thoughts.
Christien pulled her to him in a tight hug.
She melted into him, leaning her body against his, all of his dips and angles, the hard muscles and warmth fitting into hers.
She closed her eyes and inhaled his scent.
Man, horse, leather, sunshine. His rough tunic scratched her cheek and she rubbed her face against it.
Christien’s hold suddenly became something more.
Less exuberant, more tender. His arms cradled her instead of simply holding her, his hands moved slowly up her back, his fingers exploring.
“Madelaine,” he murmured, his voice husky.
“Mmm.”
She wrapped her arms around him, letting her hands explore as his did. His back was roped with tight muscles that flexed beneath her fingers. He was all sinew and strength.
She pressed her thighs to his, luxuriating in the strength of him. If she were strong like Christien she wouldn’t have to worry about fighting Lucien or her husband.
She tilted her head up to find Christien’s silver eyes looking down at her, sparking with longing and need.
His lips parted, little puffs of breath fanning her cheek.
She touched those lips with the tip of her finger, memorizing the softness.
Her stomach clenched and a heaviness developed between her legs.
A restlessness overtook her and she stood on tiptoe, pressing her lips to his.
At first he didn’t respond, then something broke loose inside him and he groaned. Cupping the back of her head with his large hand, he urged her forward, his mouth opening, his tongue touching the seam of her lips, prodding them open.
In the past, she’d been disgusted when her husband wanted her to kiss open-mouthed, but now she wanted Christien inside her in any way she could get him.
She opened eagerly, hungrily, sucking his tongue in and causing him to moan.
The sound vibrated through her, making her move her legs to ease the pressure between them.
The rigid outline of his erection pressed against her belly. Just one time she wanted to know how it could be between a man and a woman who loved each other. She’d heard the maids whisper and understood it could be so much more than what she’d experienced. She wanted that with Christien.
But he pulled away and took a deep breath, holding her at arm’s length. “We must stop.”
“Why?”
“’Tis not right.”
“I want you to show me how beautiful it can be. I want to see the beauty, Christien. I want to know it’s more than pain and degradation. That it’s more than being controlled and humiliated.”
He closed his eyes and groaned. His arms still held her at a distance but they were shaking with the effort. “I would like nothing more than to show you how beautiful it can be. But I cannot.”
“I see.” She looked away, embarrassed she had asked. Mortified he had rejected her.
“Madelaine. Love. Please do not think I don’t want you. You have already witnessed the proof. I want you very much, but there is nothing I can offer you. You are married to a brutal man who will kill us if he discovered our transgressions.”
“Is not being alone with you in this room a transgression? Have I not already broken my wedding vows? Don’t you understand, Christien? I don’t care anymore. He has destroyed everything I once honored and cherished.”
“Shhhh.” He pressed his fingers against her lips. “Do not say such things.”
She broke away from him and paced across the room.
“Look at me, Christien. Look at me and tell me what you see. I am but a mere woman. You can teach me to fight, but it changes nothing. I will still live in this castle between two men—one who hates me and abuses me and one who hates me and wants me. I can fight, but in the end we both know what the outcome will be. I am a walking corpse.”
“Stop this!” He took an angry step forward. His fingers curled into fists at his sides, but she knew Christien well enough not to be afraid. He would never hit her. He was too honorable to ever hit a woman. “We will think of something.”
She opened her arms wide. “What? What can we do? Will you take me with you? How long before he discovers us gone and sends his men after us? How far will we get before we are found and brought back? What will happen to us then, Christien? You will be killed most certainly but not before he tortures you. And I…” She was unable finish her thought.
It mattered not, they both knew what her fate was.
“Don’t you see?” She took a step toward him. “I’m already damned.”