19 #3
“Then again,” Cassandra continued. “And then again. Thirty-two times—”
Comprehension came to Duncan in a wave of coldness. That was the exact number of people whose truth Amber had questioned by touch.
“—until your flesh smokes and burns and you want to cry out, but don’t, for it would change nothing, especially the pain.”
“Enough.”
“Why so shocked, proud lord?” Cassandra mocked softly. “As you said, the candle is only a shadow of the hearth fire. But the flame…the flame burns just as deeply in time.”
“I didn’t know,” Duncan said through his teeth.
“Then you had better learn the nature of the weapon you wield, lest you break it in your ignorance and arrogance!”
“I had to know what the people of the keep were thinking.”
“Yes,” Cassandra acknowledged. “But it could have been more gently done.”
“You could have spoken,” Duncan said, turning to Amber.
“Weapons don’t speak,” Amber said. “They are simply used. Are you through wielding me for now?”
Slowly Duncan’s hands closed into fists. Just as slowly they opened once more.
“Return to your room,” he said.
Amber set aside the wine goblet and left the solar without a look or a word.
Nor did Duncan call her back.
But when Cassandra would have followed, he gestured to another chair.
“Be seated,” Duncan said. “You have no loyalty to me, but you will do what you can to help the amber witch, won’t you?”
Cassandra’s lips thinned. “Amber is Learned, not a witch.”
“Answer my question.”
“Aye. Whatever I can do to help Amber, I will do.”
“Then stay nearby and speak for the weapon that is too stubborn to speak for herself.”
“Ah, then you value her.”
“More than my dagger and less than my sword,” Duncan retorted.
“Erik should see you now.”
“Why?”
“He thought your feeling for Amber would be stronger than your pride. I would like to show him how wrong he was,” Cassandra said bitingly. “’Tis a pity that he isn’t the one to bear the pain of his misjudgment.”
Before Duncan could speak, Simon and Dominic came into the solar. They looked from Cassandra to Duncan to the untouched supper arrayed on a table near the hearth.
“I have news that should whet your appetite,” Dominic said.
“What is it?” Duncan asked, turning away from Cassandra.
“Sven assures me that the people of the keep are quite willing to accept you as their lord.”
Duncan smiled and turned to Cassandra.
“Disappointed?” he taunted.
“Only in your treatment of your wife.”
“Then you need not worry for long,” Simon said. “The marriage will be set aside.”
Duncan and Cassandra turned as one to face Simon.
“’Tis a true marriage,” Cassandra said. “Ask Duncan if he hasn’t had carnal knowledge of his wife!”
“Whether she is maiden or madam,” Dominic said, “it matters not. The marriage was conducted under false pretenses. No bishop would uphold it.”
“Especially if a church or a monastery were offered as a gesture of respect,” Simon said sardonically.
“You exchanged sacred vows,” Cassandra said to Duncan. “Will you go back on your word?”
“Vows.” Duncan’s mouth flattened in pain or contempt or both together. “Nay, I won’t go back on my true word.”
Cassandra closed her eyes in a relief she couldn’t hide.
“I will keep the true vow I made when my mind was whole,” Duncan said. “I will marry Lady Ariane of Deguerre.”
“What of Amber?” Cassandra asked.
Duncan turned to Dominic without answering.
“Send for my betrothed,” Duncan said flatly. “The wedding will take place as soon as the Church agrees.”
“What of Amber?” Cassandra demanded.
Duncan rose and walked out of the solar, looking at no one.
“What of Amber!” Cassandra shouted.
Cassandra’s cry echoed through the great hall, following Duncan. Even when the last echo had faded, he heard the words crying within the bleak silence of his mind.
What of Amber?
What of your sacred vow?
Amber.
Sacred.
Amber. Amber. Amber…
There was no peace for Duncan in any part of the keep. The cry was a part of him, as deeply embedded as the pain of his old memory and his new betrayal.
The past turning, returning, tormenting him first with Amber’s voice and then with his own.
Truly I am safe with you.
Always, my golden witch. I would sooner cut off my own sword hand than harm you.
The memory was too sad, too savage. Duncan pushed it away, buried it among the thousand shades of darkness where he could no longer hide.
Cassandra’s voice pursued him, the Learned woman’s words raining down like drops of fire.
To deny the truth of the past or the present will destroy you as surely as cleaving your head in two with a sword.
Remember what I have said when the past returns and seems to make a lie of the present.
Remember it.
Long after others slept, Duncan paced the halls and winding stairways of his own keep. Voices spoke within his silence, words echoing through his seething mind, Amber’s voice describing passion, pride, and honor being used as tools of war.
Erik knew that you didn’t love me. He knew that you wouldn’t marry me if you remembered.
And he knew how much you desired me.
Duncan desired her still. False or true, witch or woman, leman or wife, she made his body burn for her with all the fires of hell. The violence of his need overwhelmed everything.
Even betrayal.
Gradually Duncan realized he was standing in front of Amber’s door, his fists clenched at his sides. He didn’t know how long he had been standing there. He knew only that he must be inside with her.
The door to the bedchamber made no sound when Duncan pushed it open. The candles had burned low. The hearth held little more than embers. Draperies around the bed gleamed darkly as he drew them aside.
Amber lay in uneasy sleep, the covers twisted and her hair a tumbled golden cloud spread across the pillows. For an instant Duncan saw her as she had been in the bath, her breasts gilded with water and reflected fire. He had wanted then to be like the fire licking over her.
He still wanted it.
Duncan released the draperies and began stripping off the heavy battle clothes he had worn throughout the day. When he was as naked as a candle flame, he drew back the draperies again and lowered himself into Amber’s bed.
Slowly he reached out to touch her. Just before his fingertips brushed her lips, he remembered what had happened in the solar—Amber white with pain, hardly able to stand, and Cassandra’s cool words describing what had happened.
She feels your rage. Beating her with a whip would cause less pain.
Yet Amber hadn’t flinched the second time Duncan had touched her, when his concern for her pain had been greater than his anger at her betrayal.
For a long time Duncan lay motionless, torn between desire and anger.
Instinctively he divided his mind as though Learned, yet without Learned understanding of the danger to himself of what he did.
A divided mind would soon curl back upon itself like a leaf shriveled by fire.
And like a leaf, the mind would wither and die.
Duncan forced himself to concentrate not on his bleak rage at being betrayed, but rather on his desire. Then he focused on Amber’s passion for him, a passion she had never been able to conceal.
Erik knew I wanted you…dawn after a lifetime of night.
The thought of being wanted like that again swept through Duncan. All that held him in check was his fear of hurting rather than arousing Amber with his touch. He wanted her hungry, not beaten, as wild for the joining of their bodies as he was.
A wave of heat burst through Duncan as he remembered what if was like to thrust into Amber, feeling her body close around him, holding him with tight, sultry perfection.
Breathing a word that was prayer and curse at once, Duncan speared his hand into Amber’s hair until her scalp lay warm against his palm. The burning focus of his mind was desire. The corrosive shadows he held at bay served only to make the fire even hotter by contrast.
Amber awoke into a torrent of passion. She needed no candlelight to tell her who was lying next to her, his body hot and hard, his need too great to be described in words.
“Duncan. My God, your hunger…”
She tried to breathe, to talk, but all she could do was shiver as her own body changed to meet his with the speed of a falcon leaping into the sky.
“You tremble,” Duncan said roughly. “Pain or desire?”
She couldn’t speak for the waves of his desire breaking over her. Then his hand swept down her body, seeking answers in another, surer way.
The sultry riches that greeted him nearly drove him over the edge.
He moved over her with catlike swiftness, opening her legs and thrusting into her even as she arched up to him. The hot perfection of the joining undid him. With a raw cry of completion, he poured himself into her.
But it wasn’t enough.
He wanted to fuse their bodies together, wanted the fire to burn forever, wanted…
Amber.
Duncan lowered his mouth to hers and began to move again, driving into her, joining with her in the only way he would permit himself, burning with her in the heart of his fire.
And when neither could burn any longer, they slept in the ashes of their shared passion.
Their nightmares were also shared, a thousand cold shades of darkness and betrayal, vows that could not be kept without forswearing other vows, rage at what could not be undone, a primal hunger for all that could not be…
Slowly Amber withdrew until she no longer touched her sleeping husband. Eyes open, staring at the darkness, Amber drank to the last bitter drop the knowledge of what she had done to him and to herself.
The Glendruid Wolf had truly seen into Duncan’s soul. Beyond all doubt, beyond all temptation, Duncan was a man of his word.
And his word had been given to Dominic le Sabre.
Amber knew it now.
Too late.
If Duncan lets himself love me, he cannot permit our marriage to be set aside. He must turn his back on honor and on Dominic le Sabre.
Duncan of Maxwell, the Forsworn.
If he turns his back on honor, he will hate himself.
And me.