Claire Delacroix (20 page)

Yves’ heart skipped a beat. He guessed that Gabrielle had been avoiding any private moments between them, but now he had reason for such a moment. The news of Thomas’ first word and this idea to prompt more from the little boy gave Yves the perfect excuse to seek out his bride.

The lady, after all, dearly loved to be asked her opinion.

And perhaps, if Yves were fortunate indeed, he might have another chance to sample one of the lady’s intoxicating kisses.

He could hardly wait to find her alone.

The afternoon sun had circled past the windows of the solar and the late afternoon shadows were beginning to stretch long in the room. Gabrielle stopped short at the sight of the great bed already turned down. The servants were less than subtle in their hints these days, and she knew that they had guessed Yves did not share her bed.

And Gabrielle found the great bed uncommonly cold these nights.

For a moment, she permitted herself to imagine Yves’ lean strength entangled with hers, mornings spent abed, nights spent loving…Then she gave her head a resolute shake.

By the terms of her own demand, that was not to be. Gabrielle unknotted her girdle and strode across the room to fetch a finer one—her only concession to joining Yves at the board each night. She steadfastly avoided glancing at the bed again.

“Gabrielle?”

She pivoted smoothly at Yves’ soft murmur of her name. Her heart hammered to find the subject of her imagination lounging in the doorway. Not for the first time, Gabrielle had the odd sense that Yves could hear her very thoughts.

His golden hair gleamed and his eyes seemed uncommonly dark. He was garbed in dark tunic, hauberk and tabard much as that evening in the count’s court, and Gabrielle was painfully aware of the intimate nature of the solar.

Indeed, the bed seemed to mock her. If Gabrielle had not known it was whimsy, she would have been certain the pillared bed loomed even larger in her peripheral vision, its pristine linens inviting amorous play.

But she would rather die than let Yves guess how readily he affected her. Why would he come here? He had not crossed the threshold of the solar since their wedding night.

Gabrielle’s heart skipped a beat. Was this some ploy to see his own base needs satisfied, despite the terms of their marriage?

Would she be able to resist any approach he made?

Gabrielle straightened. “Is something wrong?” she asked crisply.

Yves shook his head, and the smile she adored tugged the corner of his lips. His gaze was warm upon her and suddenly it seemed to Gabrielle that the solar lost its late afternoon chill. “On the contrary, something is very much right.”

It was nearly impossible to keep rein on her thoughts when he watched her with such intensity. “I do not understand,” Gabrielle admitted, feeling her cheeks heat.

Yves’ gaze flicked across the solar—no doubt noting the state of the bed!—then back to Gabrielle. “May I join you? This will only take a moment.”

Gabrielle took a deep breath, not in the least bit certain that she could deny Yves even for a moment if he touched her. “Of course,” she said with a falsely bright smile.

Yves stepped into the room and pushed the door not quite closed behind himself. He strode purposefully to Gabrielle’s side, his amber gaze locked with her own. Gabrielle’s heart began to race.

“It is Thomas,” he confided in a low tone when he stood
directly beside her. Gabrielle could smell his skin and longed to have another of his heady kisses.

Yves flicked a pointed glance at her. “He spoke today, and—”

“He spoke!” Gabrielle grasped Yves’ shoulders and gave him a shake, her own desires momentarily forgotten. “When? What did he say? What prompted him to talk?”

Yves dropped the weight of a warm finger against her lips, laughter dancing in the amber depths of his eyes.

Her son was talking again! Gabrielle looked to the man responsible for this change, her heart lurching to find his warm gaze fixed upon her and the half smile that melted her knees toying with his lips.

Her knees melted right on cue.

“He said the word
friend
twice. That was all.”

Gabrielle frowned. “But…”

“I was explaining to him about tending a steed, that it is important to win the beast’s trust before riding it.” Yves’ tone was low, and Gabrielle had a curious sense that he was not talking entirely about steeds. “He suggested that Merlin and I were friends, I agreed, and he asked if he and I could be friends.”

Friends with his new papa. Tears rose unbidden in Gabrielle’s eyes and she raised one hand to her lips as she stared at Yves. How could she have worried whether Thomas would take to this knight?

Yves chuckled beneath his breath at her expression, and he flicked an affectionate finger across the tip of her nose. “Do not fret, my lady,” he said, his voice a low rumble that made Gabrielle tremble to her toes. “I told him that we were.”

“Oh, Yves!” Gabrielle laughed despite herself, and a pair of tears splashed on her cheeks. “You are teasing me!”

Yves slid an arm around her shoulders so easily that Gabrielle barely noticed the gesture. The weight of his arm felt warm and right, no less the gentle fingertip that swept away her tears. Gabrielle met his gaze for a fleeting moment and
found something there that encouraged her to lean ever so slightly against his chest. She dropped her gaze, and her heart throbbed with the certainty that Thomas could have no finer man for his father.

“I thought you should know,” Yves murmured, his lips moving ever so slightly against her hair.

Gabrielle could hear the thunder of his heart. Did she dare to imagine that its pace was accelerated? Was he as affected by this simple embrace as she?

He pulled back slightly and Gabrielle feared suddenly that Yves would leave and this golden moment would end all too soon. “Do you think that this is just the beginning?” she asked hastily. “That maybe Thomas will speak even more?”

“I have an idea,” Yves confessed.

Gabrielle looked up as he frowned slightly, and she marveled that he had taken her son to his heart like his own blood.

“Quinn has a litter of wolfhounds, and perhaps, if you are amenable to the idea, we could convince him to part with a breeding pair. I think Thomas has a great affinity for animals and that it is of import that he spoke first in the stables…”

“Yves, that is a wonderful idea!”

“It is just a thought,” he countered with a smile. “When I was young, I played with the wolfhounds in Sayerne’s stables. Seeing Quinn’s pups reminded me of those times.” His gaze sobered and Gabrielle knew his memories of those days were not all good.

She reached up and laid a hand tentatively on his cheek, surprised when he did not pull away. “Is that where your good memories are?” she asked quietly.

Yves nodded, his lips twisting in a sad smile before he pressed a kiss into her palm. “I hid there. When my father was in a rage and I had the chance to escape.” He took a steadying breath and forced a smile. “The ostler and his wife were good to me.”

Their gazes held for a long moment, and Gabrielle was
again amazed that this strong man showed her so much of his own vulnerability.

“Just as you are so good to my son,” she whispered. An unexpected tear glistened on Yves’ lashes. Gabrielle impulsively stretched up and touched her lips to his own.

She may have intended to offer only a chaste kiss, but any such inkling was soon forgotten. Yves’ arm closed around her waist in a possessive demand that made her heart soar, and when his lips closed resolutely over her own, Gabrielle wanted all of him. She wound her arms around his neck with abandon, arched against his strength and surrendered to the majesty of his kiss.

This man loved her son. This man trusted her with the secrets of his heart.

This man had securely captured her own barricaded heart.

So lost were they in each other that neither heard the patter of little footsteps or the slow creaking of the heavy portal being pushed open.

An audible gasp echoed in the solar. Gabrielle spun from Yves’ embrace, shocked to be interrupted in such a position.

“
Maman!
” Thom as cried out.

Before Gabrielle could discern his expression, the little boy turned and ran.

Gabrielle was fast on his heels, the sound of Yves’ boots echoing right behind her.

N
o!

Terror gripped Yves’ innards as he ran after Gabrielle’s slight figure. What would he do if Thomas compelled her to choose between husband and son? Yves knew full well whose side Gabrielle would choose.

The power of her love for Thomas was, after all, one of the things he most admired about her.

Thomas dove into a storeroom at the far end of the corridor, Gabrielle in hot pursuit. She threw a glance over her shoulder to Yves, appeal in her wide violet eyes.

“Could you fetch a light?” she asked breathlessly, but Yves knew what she truly wanted of him.

He was not welcome here. She was already turning him aside, had already guessed the direction of her son’s thoughts.

He should have expected no less.

Without a word, Yves turned and strode back to the solar, leaving Gabrielle to cajole her son. Yves struck a flint with impatient fingers and lit the lantern there as resolve grew within his heart.

No. He would not be dismissed from this discussion, when everything he had ever desired lay in the balance. He would not stand aside while his marriage was discarded.

If nothing else, he was Thomas’ friend.

If nothing else, he would fight again for the bride he had so arduously won, even if her heart was always to be withheld from him.

Yves strode back to the storeroom, surprised to find Gabrielle still lingering in the doorway. Had she been waiting for him? She flashed Yves a smile of gratitude, then indicated a pile of spun flax in the far corner.

“He has climbed up there,” she confided, leaning toward him as though they needed to solve the problem together. Yves lifted the lantern higher and caught a glimpse of a wide-eyed boy perched atop the spools.

“Thomas?” Gabrielle said softly. “Will you come down and speak with us?”

Us.
Yves’ heart glowed at her ready use of the single word. He dropped his hand to the back of Gabrielle’s waist and stepped forward with her to face her son.

Their
son.

Thomas shook his head adamantly and scrambled a little higher.

“The spools will not hold our weight,” Yves murmured to Gabrielle, and she nodded, her gaze fixed on the boy.

“I cannot imagine why he is so concerned. He accepted you at the nuptials, and again on this day in the stables.” Relief swept through Yves that Gabrielle evidently did not see their marriage as the root of the problem. A spark that had been kindled by her kiss raged to life once more in recollection of the kisses they had shared at their nuptials.

And it was true—Thomas had witnessed that embrace without incident.

Which meant something else was amiss. A weight slipped from Yves’ shoulders at this realization, even while Gabrielle spared him a worried glance. “Do you have any ideas?”

“Perhaps he will talk.” Hope gleamed in his wife’s eyes, and Yves slid his hand reassuringly across her back.

Bolstered by her confidence in him, Yves handed Gabrielle the lantern and stepped into the room, hunkering down as he
had when he talked to the boy before. Thomas watched every move from his perch.

“I thought we were friends, Thomas,” he said gently.

Thomas nodded warily. “Friends,” he whispered, and Yves heard Gabrielle inhale sharply.

It was only the second word she had heard her son utter, he knew, and she might not have trusted her ears the first time. Gabrielle held her tongue, though he guessed such restraint was not easily won.

“Friends can talk about what troubles them,” Yves continued easily. “Could I tell you what troubles me?”

Thomas nodded and leaned forward slightly, as though he did not want to miss a word of what Yves said. Yves took a deep breath and wondered whether confessions from the heart would ever fall easily from his lips.

He cleared his throat, then locked his gaze with Thomas’ dark one. “I know that you saw me kissing your mother. My concern is that you might not like that.”

Yves held his breath and waited, sensing that Gabrielle did the same behind him. Thomas looked from one to the other, then moved slightly closer.

“Are you going to die?” the boy asked suddenly.

Die? Yves did not know what to make of that Surely Thomas’ dislike could not run so deep? “Do you want me to?” he asked quietly, fearing that matters were much worse than he had imagined.

Thomas shook his head vehemently, and Yves was momentarily confused. He felt Gabrielle’s presence behind him, welcomed the weight of her hand on his shoulder. Perhaps she could guide him through this unfamiliar territory.

“Your papa did not want to die, Thomas,” Gabrielle said softly. Of course! The boy was concerned about a repeat of the past. “Yves has made Perricault safe again and killed the man who killed your papa. Yves is not going to die.”

“Not anytime soon,” Yves added forcefully. He reached up and captured Gabrielle’s hand within his own, hoping
against hope that the potential loss of his new friend was Thomas’ only concern.

To Yves’ amazement, a tiny smile dawned on the boy’s face. “I like having a new papa,” he declared, “but only if you are not going to die.”

Yves dropped to one knee in the pose of a man taking a pledge, his gaze unswerving from his son. “I swear to you, Thomas of Perricault,” he said solemnly, “that I shall do my level best to live to a ripe old age.”

Thomas grinned.

Then he giggled.

“Thomas!” Gabrielle chided, her admonition gentle in her relief. “I have told you time and again not to climb anything piled loosely. Now, come down here and be careful!”

No sooner had the words left her lips than the flax, not stacked for any such use, began suddenly to roll beneath Thomas’ scampering feet.

He squealed; Gabrielle gasped and turned, anxiously seeking a place to safely set down the lamp. Yves leaped to his feet and plucked Thomas out of the tumbling spools.

Thomas threw his arms around Yves’ neck, his shining face stopping any admonition before it was even uttered. “Yves is my new papa, just like you said!” he informed his mother.

Gabrielle took a deep breath and stepped closer to take her son’s outstretched hand. She flicked a glance toward Yves, and he loved the smile that played over her lips. “I understand that you two are friends.”

Thomas grinned. “He is my best friend ever, except for you,
Maman.
” The boy sobered and held his mother’s gaze solemnly. “You found the very best papa,” he informed Gabrielle, and Yves’ heart lurched. “Now we are a real family again.”

A real family. Little did Thomas know that this was Yves’ first experience of a real family, and one all the more precious to him for that. He looked to the woman responsible and lost himself in the glow of her eyes.

Thomas’ satisfaction with that circumstance was evident. Gabrielle dared to look at Yves, and something lingering in the golden depths of his eyes stole her very breath away.

Could they truly make a family?

“Can we really have two dogs,
Maman?
” Thomas demanded. It was clear that he had overheard something of their conversation, perhaps the part that interested him most.

“Do you think we should?” she asked with a mildness she was far from feeling.

“Wolfhounds!” Thomas exclaimed, his excitement at the prospect transforming him once more into the happy child he had been.

“Wolfhounds from Sayerne,” Yves interjected. Gabrielle’s heart melted at the way he bounced Thomas on his hip. “Just like the ones I used to play with when I was your size!”

Thomas inhaled with delight. “Can we,
Maman,
can we?”

“Well.” Gabrielle struggled to focus on the question itself, aware of the considering weight of Yves’ gaze. “Who will take care of these dogs?”

“I will take care of them,
Maman!
” Thomas spared an obviously adoring glance toward Yves, one not unlike those Gaston uncharacteristically granted his knight. “My
friend
and I will take care of them.”

Gabrielle looked to Yves and saw his own pleasure at this outcome of events reflected in his eyes.

“I will make time for this,” he assured her, his low voice launching shivers down Gabrielle’s spine. “And Gaston has somewhat less to do these days, as well. I am certain the pups would scarcely be neglected.”

Indeed, Gabrielle herself had missed the few hounds they had had within the hall before Philip’s attack. Mere mongrels, they had not had the interest in children nor the gentle tolerance that Gabrielle knew was typical of large wolfhounds.

“Can we,
Maman?
Can we, please?”

Gabrielle smiled and touched her son’s cheek. “I think it is a fine idea,” she conceded, laughing when Thomas
squirmed free of Yves’ embrace and rained kisses upon her cheeks.

Gabrielle did not care that her gratitude for Yves’ patience with Thomas showed when she met his gaze. Indeed, she could not have imagined that any other than this knight with his quiet confidence could have persuaded Thomas so readily that all was well at Perricault.

She owed him a debt for this, and Gabrielle knew suddenly the only deed that would suffice.

“Thank you,
Maman!
” Thomas pulled free of her embrace, his tolerance of maternal hugs expired for the moment. “I have to ask Xavier where they can sleep,” he said, and looked inquiringly to Yves.

Yves ruffled Thomas’ hair with an affection that made Gabrielle certain her decision was the right one. “There will be plenty of time to talk to Xavier before the dogs come.”

“Can we do it now?” He granted his mother a sunny smile and took Yves’ hand pointedly. Yves looked momentarily flummoxed, but Gabrielle gave him a minute push.

“Not everyone is invited to escort Thomas on his missions,” she teased, knowing her eyes were sparkling. Oh, her suggestion would be forward, but in this moment she did not care.

And she had to make it before she lost her nerve. “Perhaps we could speak in the solar afterward?” she asked in a rush.

Yves smiled with the slowness that made her blood heat. “I will be just a few moments, my lady,” he murmured, before Thomas fairly dragged him from the room.

“What color are Quinn’s dogs? Are they big yet?” Thomas demanded, his volley of questions unstoppable now that they had begun. “Are they bigger than me? Will they like me? What do they eat?”

And when knight and boy disappeared down the stairs, Gabrielle hugged herself with delight. Who could have imagined that all would work out so well? Her heart pounded with
anticipation of Yves’ return and she paced back to the solar impatiently.

For then she would make him another bold offer.

It took Yves so long that Gabrielle’s bravery nearly completely abandoned her. A real family. Her suggestion would certainly make them that, if Gabrielle could bring herself to give it voice.

When Yves’ boots sounded in the passageway, Gabrielle jumped to her feet and tried to look nonchalant as her husband entered the solar once more.

He shoved one hand through his hair and granted her a rueful smile. “Now he will not stop talking.”

Gabrielle could not help but smile. “I cannot believe it,” she whispered, knowing her eyes shone when she looked at Yves.

“He said but two words in the stable,” the knight confessed as he crossed the room to her side once more. “I never imagined he would speak so much so quickly.”

“He is as he always was,” Gabrielle admitted, her lips curving in a smile. “Likely he will talk your ear off, given half the chance—you can see now why his silence surprised me so.”

Yves chuckled. “That I can.” He stared at Gabrielle for a long moment, and beneath his heated regard, she could not summon her bold proposition to her lips.

“I suppose I should ride to Sayerne on the morrow and ask Quinn for the dogs.” Yves’ expression turned wry. “Pray that he does not refuse me, after all of this.”

“He will not,” Gabrielle said, and Yves’ gaze clung to hers once more. She should ask him, now before he left, but the words abandoned her.

The silence grew between them, though the heat in Yves’ eyes did not diminish. He cleared his throat suddenly and frowned. “You have no need to worry about the security of Perricault while I am gone. The men are in fine form.”

“I know.”

Yves stared at his boots. “I suppose I will not be gone more than a few days—”

“Do not go,” Gabrielle interrupted, and Yves’ head snapped up.

“You do not want the dogs?”

“No, not that.” An unfamiliar nervousness claimed her and her words fell with a haste she did not like.

But they were not the words she needed to say.

“We could ride together,” she suggested. “Then Thomas could choose the pups he liked, if Quinn did not mind.” Gabrielle was babbling like a fool and knew it well, but could not stop. “It would be good to have a ride and for Thomas to see something outside these walls.”

“That is a good idea,” Yves conceded. “Would the morrow be too soon for you?”

Gabrielle shook her head and the knight took a step away. “I shall make the arrangements,” he said, and turned away.

Not before she had said what must be said!

“No!” Gabrielle dove after Yves and latched on to his sleeve. He looked at her with surprise, but Gabrielle knew she had to make her offer before she lost her nerve.

She stared at the dark wool clutched within her own hand, for she could not bear to see rejection light those amber eyes. “What you have done this day, these past weeks, is beyond whatever I might have expected from a husband, especially one taken in name alone.”

Gabrielle swallowed and drew a fortifying breath, achingly aware of Yves’ watchful silence. “This is a match most unnatural, as you declared at the beginning, and I would rectify that situation.”

Never had she made such a brazen offer. Never had Gabrielle permitted herself to believe that her charms might have an appeal for a man.

But Yves was different.

Yves was the man she loved.

Though still she knew she had to offer more than just herself.

Gabrielle dared to glance up, her fledgling confidence bolstered by the flame in Yves’ gaze. “I would have ours be a match in truth,” she whispered unevenly. “Out of gratitude for your deeds, I would bear you a son, Yves de Sant-Roux.”