La Flamme (Historical Romance) (15 page)

She stood in the doorway of the salon, watching the servants busily tidying the room. She had been content in this house, thinking it was a haven for her and Richard. Now it had been invaded by her adversary, and it was no longer her sanctuary.

Ysabel came up beside her. "I found Richard's dogs running loose in the garden and took them to his room. I cannot imagine who let them out and then forgot about them."

"It is of little consequence. Was Richard asleep?"

"Oui. He was sleeping like an angel." Ysabel could feel that something was wrong with Sabine. "You have been acting distracted all evening. What has happened,
ma petite
?"

Sabine's voice sounded strained. "My husband was here tonight." Fear trembled in her voice. "It was like living in one of my nightmares—I could not escape him!"

Ysabel looked concerned. "Was he the dark gentleman—the handsome one?"

"
Oui
."

"I saw that he could not take his eyes off you." Ysabel tensed. "Did he threaten you?"

"Our encounter was very curious." Sabine moved toward the stairs and Ysabel followed her. "1 believe that Garreth does not know my identity. But, how can that be?"

"If he is the one who caused the death of your father, he is a dangerous man, and you should never be alone with him or underestimate him."

"I have feared him for so long, that when I saw him tonight, all I wanted to do was take Richard and flee. I now know that would be a mistake. I am weary of living with fear, Ysabel. This time, I will not run, and I will not let Garreth Blackthorn defeat me."

"Have a care, Sabine. You have often told me that he is a powerful man."

"Perhaps in England," Sabine said defiantly, "but not in France. Here, I know the people with power, and I will not hesitate to use my influence."

"You are not alone; I am here for you and Richard," Ysabel assured her.

Sabine smiled and patted the old woman's hand. "I need your friendship and support. I cannot fight Garreth as an equal, for he would destroy me. But it is said that everyone has a weakness, and so must he. I will find his weakness, and use it against him."

They were almost at the top of the stairs, and Ysabel paused. "1 do not like this bitterness in you, Sabine. Do not let this man spoil your sweetness."

"How would you have me feel about him? He had my father and many of our people killed. And he tried to kill Richard and me."

Ysabel saw the determination in Sabine's eyes and knew that she was prepared to strike at her husband. "So the time has come to begin reclaiming your past?"

"I don't know ... yes, I must."

Ysabel reached out and laid a hand on Sabine's shoulder, forcing the young woman to look into her eyes. "It is said that no man is immune to the charms of La Flamme, and after all, your husband is but a man."

Sabine looked horrified. "Are you suggesting that I try to make Garreth love me?"

"A man will seldom harm that which he loves. You are a beautiful woman, and your beauty may be your only weapon against him. Throughout history, beautiful women have had wars waged for them and kingdoms have tumbled because of their power over men. But to use your allure against a man can be the most dangerous weapon of them all, for it could destroy you along with him."

"I don't know what to do," Sabine said, plainly distressed. "I do not play games. I would not even know how."

She opened the door to Richard's bedroom, where moonlight streamed across his bed. He was sleeping soundly, and both dogs lay on the foot of his bed. They raised their heads and wagged their tails when they saw Sabine.

Richard was safe for now. No one could gain entrance to his room without rousing his dogs.

Closing the door softly, she turned back to Ysabel, who had waited in the hall to pick up the threads of their conversation.

"When I married Garreth, he loved another—he may still love her. She was very beautiful," Sabine said with uncertainty.

"And how old would this woman be now?" Ysabel asked with a chuckle. "Besides, I do not believe that a woman could hold a man if you decide to be her rival. Any man in Paris would leave his wife if La Flamme would have him."

"I do not know how to entrap a man, Ysabel."

"Then I shall help you."

"Tell me how to act when I meet him again."

"Aloof, cold, and disinterested. Nothing captures a man's desire more than a woman who is unobtainable. Of course, you must never see him alone."

Sabine's mind was troubled as she crossed the hallway to her bedroom. "I will think on what you say, Ysabel."

When Sabine was alone, she sank down on her soft bed and stared at the overhead canopy. She could admit to herself that the most frightening aspect of her meeting with Garreth was that he had excited her. How could it be that she still harbored some semblance of love in her heart for Garreth Blackthorn? That realization made her sick, and she despised herself for it.

Her mind was filled with bitterness as she tried to think of ways to maneuver Garreth into her trap without falling into that trap herself. Dawn tinted the sky before she fell asleep.

17

The moment Sabine walked onstage she knew that Garreth was out there in the darkness. She could feel his eyes on her, and it made her nervous and tense. Once she even stumbled over her lines, which caused Marie to give her a puzzled glance.

Gathering her courage, and determined that Garreth would not make her cower, Sabine raised her head and swept around the stage, playing her part for him alone. She had never performed better, and she knew it. She was coquettish, provocative, and flirtatious. She seemed to glow with a hidden fire, and Garreth, along with the audience, was caught by her magic.

Jacques, who was playing the part of her father, watched her in amazement. Although she was a good actress, men came to see her more for her beauty than for her acting. Tonight, she had reached for and obtained greatness, and everyone on the stage and in the audience could feel it.

After the final scene, Sabine went to her dressing room and waited, pacing the floor.

Ysabel looked at her, frowning. "Why do we not leave? The usual crowd departed long ago."

"He'll be out there waiting, I know he will."

"If you are talking about Blackthorn, he sent a note asking to see you. As you instructed, I had Henri give him your regrets. He will have already gone."

Sabine reached for her cape and flung it about her shoulders. "I suppose you are right. Let us go home."

They walked through the darkened theater, then out the door, where Sabine hurried toward her waiting coach.

She stopped in her tracks, quivering with fear when Garreth appeared beside her. She gathered her courage and prepared to face him calmly.

"You were magnificent tonight! I couldn't take my eyes off you," Garreth admitted, surprising even himself with his ardor.

"You are too kind, Monsieur le due," she said mockingly, acting as if his praise meant nothing. In truth the blood was pumping madly through her veins, and she felt lightheaded, as if she were going to swoon at his feet.

She must fight this attraction—this feeling that drew her to him, for it was dangerous and it was wrong!

Garreth stood between Sabine and her coach, determined to make her listen to him. "I suppose you are accustomed to receiving compliments, so they are of little value to you."

She stiffened her spine. "
Oui
, I am. I usually find them wearisome. But I suppose a compliment is better than insults,
non
?"

"I spoke sincerely," Garreth said, frustrated because he could not make her believe him. "You had me so enchanted that I believed you
were
the person you played onstage."

Sabine lifted her chin. "That is what I do. I make people believe the illusion."

"So they will not know the real you?"

Her eyes locked with his. "Perhaps. Are any of us what we appear to be?"

She could feel the tenseness in him. "My carriage is waiting," Garreth said. "I wonder if you would agree to a ride through the park?"

"
Non
. I am weary, and it is late."

His expression hardened. Sabine could imagine that he was not accustomed to a woman's refusal. Ysabel had been right with her advice. To act indifferent to a man only deepened his interest.

"Then perhaps you would allow me to take you home?" he persisted.

"I regret, Your Grace, that I must refuse."

He bowed to her, his eyes probing hers all the while. "Perhaps another time."

She climbed into her coach before she answered him. "I think not, Your Grace. I hardly know you. And I do not believe that we shall ever know each other."

She watched the slow smile of assurance curve his lips when he reached out, placing his hand on hers. "I think we shall know each other very well indeed, Mademoiselle."

Sabine pulled her hand away from his as if the contact had burned her. "
Adieu
, Your Grace."

She signaled her coachman to drive away. When they were some distance, she turned back to look at Garreth, who still stood there, watching her departure. She was so badly shaken that she was forced to take several steadying breaths to calm herself. It had begun to rain, and she glanced out the window at the wet cobbles that glistened under the passing coach torches.

"Garreth will not give up so easily, Ysabel."

"He seemed surprised that you did not accept his invitation. I think he will be persistent."

"What shall 1 do next time, Ysabel?"

"Refuse him again,
ma petite
."

"How long will he keep coming back if I keep sending him away?"

"Until he decides it is futile. I watched him tonight, Sabine. He does not know who you are. But I'll tell you a little secret: your husband is beginning to love you."

Sabine closed her eyes. "There was a time when I ached for his love. Now there must only be enmity between us."

"Have a care, Sabine. I not only observed the duke tonight. I also watched you."

"Ysabel," Sabine admitted, "against my will, I began to think of him as a man—even while a small voice reminds me that he murdered my father."

"Your king exonerated him from the crime. Is it possible that he was innocent? I detect in him a man who does not surrender to defeat. I also sensed in him deep sadness, and asked myself, what could be the reason?"

Sabine had learned long ago to trust Ysabel's judgment, for she had an uncanny insight. "I do not know about his feelings, but what would he do if he discovered that the woman he is pursuing is his own wife?"

"You can stop this now, Sabine, and take this thing between you and Garreth Blackthorn no further. If you refuse enough, he will soon grow discouraged and pursue you no more."

Sabine pressed her hands over her eyes as her head began to throb. "I have always known the day would come when I would face him. I am fortunate that he does not know me, or recognize me as his enemy. I must bring him down, Ysabel—this I swear!"

"Again, I would caution you to be careful. He is not a man to misjudge."

Sabine shook her head. "As La Flamme, I shall draw secrets from him that will later destroy him. I must gain his confidence, and perhaps, if necessary, I shall even allow him to make love to me."

"Beware, Sabine, that you do not fall in love with him," Ysabel said, shaking her head. "Already he pulls at your heart."

Sabine wasn't listening. Thoughts of Garreth touching her intimately sent hot waves through her. She was a woman, but she had never allowed those feelings to surface. Garreth had caused wild stirring to awaken in her body, and she could not drive those feelings from her thoughts.

"Ysabel, through the years my goal has been to one day return Richard to his rightful place. I also swore that I would find justice for the people who died at Woodbridge that night. I have always thought that I would place my claim before our peers. Now, I shall be Garreth's judge, and I shall punish him severely. I must destroy him before he destroys me!"

"Do nothing in haste that you will later regret as folly."

Sabine's eyes gleamed. She had obtained fame and adoration, but it meant nothing to her. She now realized that Garreth had always been in her mind, dominating her thoughts, shaping her future. If he had not come to Paris, she would have one day returned to England to face him.

"Ysabel, like the master of a marionette, I shall manipulate his strings and make him do as I wish."

"I do not think that will happen, Sabine. But if you are determined to do this thing, I shall help you all 1 can."

Sabine took in a shaky breath. "I will need your wisdom. Suddenly I feel afraid, and I do not know why."

"Remember,
ma petite
, that love and hate are woven from the same tapestry."

"I have come to realize that, and I will not forget."

It was a bright day without a cloud in the sky when Sabine and Richard entered the small chapel. The first time she had seen St-Merri, Sabine had become enchanted because it reminded her of the family chapel at Woodbridge Castle. She and Richard seldom attended Mass, but instead came every Wednesday to say their prayers in seclusion. Today, however, there was a celebration Mass, and the church was filled with worshippers.

Richard couldn't understand all the Latin words that were being spoken, but he found something soothing in the ritual performed by the officiating priest. He imitated his sister as she genuflected, rose to her feet, then knelt to bow her head in prayer.

Sabine squeezed her eyes together tightly, wishing she could cleanse her heart of this bitterness she felt for Garreth. God had said to forgive one's enemies, but he also said an eye for an eye. Perhaps God would understand her need for revenge.

After Mass was over and the others had departed, Sabine remained kneeling, so Richard stayed beside her, sensing that she should not be disturbed. She was still in anguish and needed the comfort of this holy place to find answers to her tortured questions and peace for her troubled soul.

She raised her head to stare at the stained-glass windows. Oh, how she wished that God would give her direction in what she must do. Was it wrong to plot a man's destruction, even if the man deserved to be destroyed?

She lowered her head and whispered her prayer. "Heavenly Father, give me a sign, show me what I must do. I am lost, and need your guidance."

Sabine remained on her knees long after Richard began stirring restlessly. She could not say what made her raise her head and glance over her shoulder. There had been no sound and no movement, but she knew that when she turned, Garreth would be there.

He was sitting just behind her, and their eyes met. She had to tear her gaze from his. She had asked for a sign from God, and he had shown her Garreth. What did it mean?

Shaken, Sabine took Richard's hand and stood, walking silently out into the sunshine. When she reached the steps of the church, Garreth appeared beside her.

She looked fragile and ethereal, like an angel with the white filmy covering on her head. Somehow her devoutness did not fit with the picture Garreth had of her, and yet, had he not observed her piety when she had not known anyone was watching? What manner of woman was La Flamme? Why was he so intrigued with her?

"I did not know, Your Grace," Sabine said, "that an Englishman of high rank would be Catholic."

"Some are, but I am not. I came here only to see you—you know that."

She raised her eyes to his. "You would have done better had you come to pray, Your Grace."

He smiled down at her. "Do you fear that my immortal soul is in danger?"

"Only you can answer that."

"I have oft heard that a woman can save a man from his wicked ways."

She looked away. "Only if the woman is interested in saving the man."

Sabine gripped Richard's hand so tightly that he pried her fingers loose and moved a few steps beyond her.

"Will you not introduce your companion to me?" Garreth asked.

Sabine reached out for her brother and clasped his wrist. "This is Richard. Richard, the duke of Balmarough."

Garreth dropped down to the boy's level. "I am pleased to meet you, Richard."

The boy's eyes brightened. It wasn't often that he met someone from England. But he had been trained well, so he spoke in French. "And I you, Monsieur le due."

"Tell me, Richard," Garreth asked in French, his eyes still on Sabine. "What is your last name?"

Sabine smiled mockingly at Garreth. She knew that he was shamelessly trying to pry secrets from Richard, but her brother would not betray their secret.

"Monsieur le due," Richard answered, his face creased in a serious frown, "you may think of me only as the brother of La Flamme."

Garreth raised his eyebrow. "So you are her brother?"

In that moment, Sabine realized that Garreth had heard the rumors that Richard was her son. Perhaps it would be safer if she allowed him to believe that falsehood.

"If you will excuse us, Your Grace," she said, "I have promised Richard an outing in the park. This is our day to spend together, and I never allow anything, or anyone, to interfere with our excursion."

Richard was so delighted to be in the company of someone from England that he spoke up. "Why do you not come with us?"

"I do not believe his grace would care for a day of frivolous amusement," Sabine said quickly. She turned, hoping to dismiss Garreth, but his words stopped her.

"You are wrong, Mademoiselle La Flamme. It would be my deepest pleasure to stroll through the park with you and your ... brother."

Sabine looked into Richard's eyes and saw his happiness. To keep him safe, she had isolated him, and she was aware that he was lonely. He had never been allowed to run and play with other children. He was forced to deny his own name and country and exist in a false world where nothing was real. All this she had done because of the man who now stood before them. Dare she expose her brother to Garreth Blackthorn?