La Flamme (Historical Romance) (32 page)

"I'll want the basket from my room," Ysabel said, looking at Sabine. "Since you know where it is, it would save time if you fetched it."

Without pausing, Sabine ran from the room, knowing Ysabel would do all she could to help Garreth.

Ysabel looked up at the men who gathered about the unconscious duke. "I already have my basket, I merely wanted to get her grace away from here so she would not see what I must do." Ysabel then pointed at Captain Barkley and one of the other gentlemen. "You two stay— the rest of you leave."

"Now," she explained as the room cleared, "I'll need you both to hold his grace still while I remove the arrow. It's good he isn't conscious."

She deftly broke off the shaft, and then, gripping a sharp knife, cut Garreth's jerkin away. "Keep a grip on him, this is going to hurt."

Garreth groaned when Ysabel pushed the arrowhead through his back. Blood ran freely from the wound, but at least the arrow had been removed.

"The flow of blood is cleansing," Ysabel said, crushing a handful of yellow roots and rubbing them on the wound. "He has lost much blood, but the roots will stop the flow."

With the help of the two men, Ysabel was able to bind clean white linen about Garreth. "Twas a clean shot, and luckily caught only his shoulder. A little further, and it would have pierced his heart. His grace will recover nicely, although he'll be sore for a few weeks."

Ysabel turned to Captain Barkley. "The two of you will carry his grace upstairs to his own bed." Then she looked at the second gentleman. "You kept your head and took orders well. By what name are you known?" she inquired.

"Charles Stuart, Madame, at your service," he replied, lifting Garreth's legs while Barkley took his head and shoulders.

Ysabel was embarrassed. She had seen the king only from a distance and hadn't recognized him. "I am sorry I was so presumptuous, Your Majesty."

"Have no worry, Madame. I have seldom seen such healing hands as yours. How would you like to join my service?"

She shook her head and smiled slightly. "I am flattered, Your Majesty, but my place is with her grace."

Sabine came rushing down the stairs, momentarily startled when she saw the king helping Barkley carry Garreth. "Ysabel, how is he?"

"There is nothing to worry about. He will recover."

"You would not just say this to keep me from worry?"

"I have ever been honest with you, Your Grace."

Sabine raced ahead and flung open the door to the bedchamber. When Garreth was laid on the bed, she dropped down on her knees and clasped his hand. "I shall remain with him," she said.

"Have no thought of anything but your husband," the king told her. "I shall play host in Garreth's stead, and the queen is quite capable of entertaining the ladies."

Sabine's eyes were brimming with grateful tears. "Thank you for your kindness, Your Majesty."

She was not even aware when they withdrew, for her attention was on her husband. Garreth's lashes rested against his pale cheeks. She touched his velvet soft hair and pressed a kiss on his lips. For this moment, he belonged to her alone.

"I love you," she whispered. "I loved you the day you came to me when my mother died, and I loved you in Paris. I didn't think it was possible, but I love you more now."

Her voice reached Garreth from his fog of pain.

"I shall always regret what I did to you in Paris. When you recover, I'll make it up to you, my dearest love."

He did not open his eyes as he felt soft, warm lips touch his. He lay very still, and his heart was gladdened at Sabine's declaration of love.

35

Dressed in her black riding habit and black-brimmed hat with a red plume, Sabine allowed the groom to help her onto a horse.

"Spinner here will give you a nice run, Your Grace," the groom told her. "Would you like me to ride along with you? There'll be a storm coming."

She glanced at the dark clouds that were gathering in the east—they were still some distance away. "Thank you, no. 1 shall return by luncheon."

He touched the brim of his hat. "Very good, Your Grace."

Sabine rode up the hill and across a wide meadow. She ran the horse for a while and then slowed him to a canter. When she saw the large lake ahead, she rode in that direction. She had been curious about the lake since first seeing it from the bedroom window.

She could see a small pagoda and thought it strangely out of place in this setting.

As she watched a flock of blackbirds take flight and wing their way across the sky, her thoughts turned to Garreth. He had not remained in bed but three days and then he insisted he had to go to London. He ignored Sabine's warning that such a journey might open his wound. He had been gone for a week now, and she was miserable without him. It had been glorious nursing him, taking care of his needs.

Sabine glanced at the dark sky, realizing that the storm was gathering about her. She could never make it back to the castle before the rains came. The wind tore at her hat, and she had to keep a hand on it or it would be ripped from her head.

She heard the sound of a rider and glanced up the slope to see Garreth. She watched him dismount and come toward her. How handsome he was in a green leather jerkin, buff-colored breeches, and high leather boots.

"Did not you see that a storm was brewing, Sabine?"

She smiled. "I did. But 1 don't melt, Garreth. I have been rained on before."

He returned her smile. "You are always going to be a rebel, are you not?"

"I hope so. I would not want you to think me commonplace."

He shook with laughter. "You commonplace, my lady wife? Hardly. 1 never know what deviltry you will be about. I believe since the day 1 married you it was ordained that you would keep my life in turmoil."

"Is that what I do?"

He nodded at her with mock solemnity.

Her laughter was musical. "Then you should consider locking me in one of your towers, Your Grace, and losing the key. Or perhaps you could put me on a ship back to France."

He pretended seriousness. "All this I have already considered, but my children need a mother."

"It appears that we are at an impasse then."

"It would seem so."

The rain came suddenly, and it fell in torrents, peppering the water in the lake and swirling it into waves that lapped against the bank.

Garreth pulled Sabine from her horse, gathered her in his arms, and ran toward the pagoda. When they reached its shelter she expected him to place her on her feet, but instead he held her, his gaze moving over her face.

"You are the most fascinating woman I have ever known, Sabine."

His eyes locked with hers, and she could hardly speak.

"You must put me down. I am certain your wound still pains you."

"Not at all." There was a sparkle to his eyes that she had not seen before. "You were a good nurse, and Ysabel is an exceptional healer."

"Yes, she is. She cured my limp."

"She has what the fairy folk refer to as healing magic."

Rain fell about them, and lightning flashed across the sky, but Sabine was no longer frightened of storms. Garreth had chased all her fears away.

He set her on her feet at last. "We could be here for quite some time, Sabine. These storms can last indefinitely."

"How did you find London?"

"Dull. Except that I saw Richard. He'll be arriving in two weeks to spend several months with us. He said to tell you that the de Baillards will be visiting in July."

"I have missed my dear friends. You do not mind, do you?"

"I welcome anyone who was kind to you when you needed friends."

She glanced up at him and found his eyes on her face. "What else did you do in London?"

"I had an audience with King Charles and Queen Henrietta, and listened to them praise the beauty and virtues of my wife." He turned her to him. "Sabine, have you any notion of the identity of the woman who wounded me?"

Her brow creased in a worried frown. "I have given it much thought, and have concluded the woman was not one of the hunting party. She was aiming directly at you."

"It was Eugenia Meredith. Since she tried to have you killed before, I thought she intended to try again—all the while, it was me she wanted dead."

"That was why you would not allow me out alone?"

"Yes."

Sabine trembled, thinking how very nearly the woman had succeeded in taking Garreth's life. "Why did she do such a thing?"

"She was demented."

"You once loved her."

"No, Sabine, never. You must believe that."

"I believe you, Garreth. What will they do to Lady Meredith?"

Garreth raised her chin and his eyes locked with hers. "You need never fear again. She's dead, trampled by her own horse as she tried to get away from the king's men."

Sabine looked away from him, but he forced her to look at him. "Sabine, Lady Meredith was the woman who helped my cousin, Cortland, with the raid on Woodbridge."

"I had come to suspect as much, although I did not want to say so. It was a fitting end to her," Sabine replied, having little sympathy for the woman who had caused the death of her father and had almost killed Garreth.

She walked to the other side of the pagoda and turned back to him. "Garreth, there are many things I wanted to speak to you about, but I have not had the courage."

He looked doubtful. "1 have not found you lacking in courage."

"I have never forgiven myself for what I did to you in Paris."

In two strides, he stood before her. "You mean by deliberately making me fall in love with you?"

"Yes." She lowered her head, no longer able to look into his dark probing eyes. "And wanting to hurt and humiliate you."

He tried to keep from smiling. "You did all that and more, Sabine. There is but one question that burns in my mind, and I must hear you say the words, while I look into your eyes. Do you love me at all?"

She could not speak.

Garreth laughed and gathered her close. "It is wrong of me to tease you, Sabine. I know you love me, and don't deny it."

She laid her head against his shoulder. "How could you not know?"

"Especially since you so recently admitted it to me yourself."

She raised her head and looked at him. "When?"

He placed his cheek against hers. "When I was wounded and you thought I was unconscious. I was sorely tempted to kiss you then, but it was much nicer listening to you say how much you loved me."

There was no longer reason for pretense or false pride. "I do love you—I suppose I always have."

He reached into his pocket and withdrew the ring he had given her on their wedding day. "Will you wear this, knowing that this time it is given with love and not out of duty?"

She nodded, too choked to speak, as he slid the ruby ring on her finger.

He shook his head. "Oh, my Sabine, how far we have come to find happiness, when all the time, it was right where the king had commanded it."

She lay her face against his chest and planted a kiss there. "What shall we do now?"

His smile was devastating. "It's simple—I love you and you love me—is that not a beginning?"

She closed her eyes as his arms tightened about her. "Yes, oh, yes."

"Little did I know that the night 1 fell in love with La Flamme, I was in love with my own wife."

She stood on her tiptoes and brushed her lips against his. "You will not tell anyone about my past?"

Humor danced in his eyes when he saw her uncertainty. "No, we can hardly admit that the duchess of Balmarough is in fact the famous La Flamme."

He pressed his cheek to hers. "There will be those who will comment that you resemble the mysterious actress."

"Yes," she said smiling, "and I shall most certainly act indignant, and you will insist that they apologize for daring to make such a comparison, and as my husband you must challenge them to a duel."

Garreth laughed softly. "Not me. You are the better swordsman."

They both laughed and then he became serious. "To me you are many women in one. You are the lovely little Sabine—the exciting La Flamme, and my duchess who conquered a king. Most of all, you are my wife and the mother of my children."

The rain hammered against the slanted roof, and lightning illuminated the sky, but Sabine and Garreth did not notice. They were locked in each other's arms, unrestrained happiness at last fusing them together.

"I have never told you," she said, as his lips brushed her cheek, "that you once came to me as an answer to a prayer."

He looked at her quizzically. "When was this?"

Her expression was serious. "It was the day you appeared behind me in the little chapel in Paris. I had asked for a sign—for someone to help me and Richard—I looked up and you were there, my love."

He gave her a smile that warmed her heart. "I was compelled to seek you out that day. Little did I know that a higher power guided my steps."

She nestled in his arms, glorying in his strength. "This is where I want to be, Garreth."

He laughed and held Sabine to his heart, his dark eyes soft and loving. "It would seem we have no choice. We were first commanded by a king, and then by God's higher power. It must be ordained that we love each other."

Her heart was too full to speak.

"Will you pledge your love to me for all time, my lady wife?"

"Forever," she promised, her eyes glowing.

He lowered his head to capture her lips. At last, they had overcome all the obstacles that had kept them apart.

They were as one mind, one heart, one love.