Claire Delacroix (22 page)

She watched a flush rise across his flesh. The sight of his desire burning in his eyes and the strength of him within her fed her own hunger yet again. Insatiable, Gabrielle strained
against Yves, kissing him demandingly, clutching at his hair, sending their passion escalating madly.

Suddenly Yves clenched her tightly.

Then he tipped back his head and bellowed her name. The heat of his seed raged within Gabrielle even as her own release flooded her veins with new vigor. They strained together, arching for the sky, then clung together as they plummeted from the heights they had won.

“Gabrielle,” Yves whispered against her temple, his voice ragged.

Gabrielle closed her eyes and leaned against him, certain she could sleep for a week. “Never before,” she managed to whisper, and she felt Yves smile against her hair.

“But soon again,” he assured her. Gabrielle looked to him in wonder, liking the crooked grin that curved his lips. He arched a fair brow. “Next time though, it will be in the bed, my lady.”

Gabrielle wanted to laugh, but instead she forced a sigh of mock contrition. “I
suppose
I could let you into my bed,” she said, as though the concession was a trying one. She looped her arms around his neck and pursed her lips. “Perhaps once a month or so.”

“Thrice a day, if not more often,” Yves corrected, but Gabrielle laughed.

“We shall never get anything done!”

His golden gaze turned smoky with intent. “Tell me something more worth doing.”

Gabrielle tapped her chin as though she had to consider the matter seriously. “Well, there is always some mending to be done,” she mused, whooping in surprise when Yves swept her over his shoulder and made for the bed.

“Teasing wench!” he charged in a playful growl. He crossed the room with long strides and tossed her onto the feather pallet, following suit before she even bounced twice.

His hands were on her, tickling mercilessly so that she
laughed aloud. Gabrielle dove beneath the coverlet, still laughing, and loved how close he was behind her.

“I shall make you forget any mending!” Yves’ arm locked around her waist and he hauled her against his strength.

“Will you, now?” Gabrielle looked over her shoulder to find a purposeful gleam in her husband’s eyes.

Husband. Gabrielle’s lips quirked at the thought.

“Give me but a few moments and then I shall show you what this bed is for,” Yves teased threateningly.

Gabrielle snuggled against him in anticipation. Indeed, she could hardly wait.

Yves awakened to find the lamp extinguished and the darkness in the solar nearly complete. He stretched, smiling to find Gabrielle’s softness nestled so tightly against his side. She still slumbered, her ebony lashes fanned against her cheeks. Yves ran an admiring finger along the gentle sweep of her jaw, marveling at the magic they had made together.

And would make again. He bent to tempt her awake with a kiss, just as a knock sounded upon the door.

The lady’s eyes flew open in alarm. Yves did not move away and her gaze leaped to meet his.

And she flushed even as she smiled shyly up at him. Yves smiled back, then called out, not troubling to hide his impatience. “Who is it? I thought we would not be troubled!”

Gabrielle giggled and gave him a hearty poke in the ribs. “You will fuel the gossip in the hall!”

“It already runs rampant, no doubt,” Yves murmured. He gave her shoulders a minute squeeze. “Do you care?”

Gabrielle shook her head, her eyes shining. “No. Do you?”

Yves grinned. “Not a whit.”

“My lord, I am most sorry to disturb you,” Franz declared from the corridor outside. “But a guest has arrived in the hall.”

Yves looked to Gabrielle anew. “Do you expect someone?”

She shook her head and propped herself up on her elbows. Her breasts were laid delightfully bare by the move and Yves could not resist bending to kiss one pert nipple.

Though she did not pull away, Gabrielle’s voice was uneven when she called out, “Who is it?”

“Lady Adelys de Momay, my lady. Shall we expect you at the board?”

“Adelys?” Yves hissed, and lifted his head, not in the least pleased by the prospect of abandoning a merry evening for the sake of that woman’s company. Gabrielle stiffened, and he feared suddenly they were confidantes. “Is she a friend of yours?”

Gabrielle shook her head. “She came often in the past, to hunt.” She shrugged. “Perhaps that is why she comes again.”

To Yves’ dismay, the lady swung her legs out of the bed. “We shall come to the board,” she informed Franz, much to her husband’s disappointment.

Something of his thoughts must have shown, for Gabrielle shook a finger at him. “Shame on you! She is our guest and we must show her proper hospitality.”

Yves grimaced and propped himself up on his elbows in turn. “I would rather stay here and let her find her own hospitality.”

Gabrielle chuckled. “I thought you were the one so intent on always following proper rules of conduct. I shall have to tell Gaston of this lapse!”

“And I shall tell Gaston that there are times when rules of conduct well deserve to be broken,” Yves replied. Gabrielle shook her head and turned her back upon him to reach for her chemise. The sight of her bare buttocks, so smooth and strong, was more than a man should be forced to endure.

Yves did not let the opportunity pass. He lunged across the bed and snatched up his wife, falling back upon the pallet even as she squealed with delight. Gabrielle did not laugh long before he kissed her soundly.

“You have but one thing upon your mind,” she scolded, her eyes dancing at the thought of that very same thing.

“It is true,” Yves conceded with a sigh. “As you say, I cannot think beyond keeping any pledge granted, especially to a lady fair.”

“What pledge?”

“To show you the merit of a bed such as this,” he retorted, permitting himself a wicked grin.

Gabrielle laughed and swatted his shoulder. “Incorrigible!” she charged. “There will be enough time for that later.”

Yves caught her chin and she stilled as she stared up at him. “Yes,” he purred. “Especially if we waste no time in sleeping this night.” Gabrielle caught her breath but did not seem inclined to argue, her hand locking around Yves’ neck as he bent to kiss her deeply.

Yves heartily hoped that Adelys de Mornay showed the good judgment to eat quickly and retire early.

Adelys wore an elegant sweep of embroidered sapphire wool that immediately made Gabrielle feel large and plain. The euphoric bubble that Yves’ touch had awakened within her popped with an almost audible burst as the tiny, perfect blonde turned to smile at her approaching host and hostess.

How could Yves be immune to such beauty? How could he not look at the two of them and see the dearth on Gabrielle’s end of the scale?

“Gabrielle!” Adelys cried with a delight that seemed undeserved. Her voice dropped with an appreciation Gabrielle knew she did not imagine as she offered her hand to Yves. “And Yves. How well you look!”

“As do you,” Yves returned smoothly, his expression impassive. Oh, here was a time Gabrielle would have loved to read his thoughts!

Adelys preened as Yves politely kissed the back of her
hand, her bright gaze fairly devouring the sight of him. Sadly, Gabrielle needed no aid to read that woman’s thoughts.

To his credit, Yves seemed to also be aware of Adelys’ expression, though when he straightened, he looked directly at Gabrielle. The weight of his hand on the back of her waist was a possessive sign she more than welcomed.

“I shall check with the cook about the meal,” he said. He winked at Gabrielle with such speed that she nearly missed it, though she could not mistake the firm stroke his thumb made across her back before he turned away.

Intuitively she understood his meaning. Gabrielle’s fears to the contrary, her husband was disinterested in their guest’s charms.

And he was interested in her own. Gabrielle glowed with pleasure at that, looking again toward Adelys as Yves turned away. That woman’s lips were drawn in a harsh line, her gaze fixed upon Yves as he walked to the kitchen.

Then she forced a smile for Gabrielle and beckoned her to a quiet corner. “How thoughtful of Yves to grant us a chance to chat!” she exclaimed. She arched a fair brow. “You know, I never expected you to take my advice after our last discussion.”

Gabrielle’s mind whirled in recollection and she heard again Adelys’ accusations. Gabrielle bristled anew at the woman’s poor view of her character, but did not think it wise to disclose to such a gossipmonger the truth of what had been between herself and Yves.

Gabrielle managed to smile politely, hating that practicality demand she support a lie. “Yves is most persuasive, as you said.”

Adelys chortled. “Oh yes, he can be that.” Her lips curved in a knowing smile, her gaze trailing to the kitchen portal yet again. “You know, he is truly a catch. I must congratulate your taste once more.”

Gabrielle fought to hide the way the woman’s words made
her ire rise. “We seem well suited,” she satisfied herself with saying.

Adelys laughed throatily at that. “Yes, you with a rich holding and he with a handsome visage! I cannot blame you for welcoming him between your thighs, Gabrielle, but you should never have taken the drastic step of wedding again.”

“I like our situation well,” Gabrielle said stiffly, painfully aware that as hostess she should not insult her guest.

“And so will he!” Adelys leaned closer and tapped a finger on Gabrielle’s shoulder. “As do I, I must confess. As soon as I heard the news, I simply had to come and resurrect our old arrangement.”

Gabrielle frowned, unable to see what one had to do with the other. “You came to hunt?”

Adelys smiled. “Yes, but in the hall of Perricault instead of the forest.” She pursed her lips as though considering the matter. “Unless, of course, the weather is most fair.”

In the hall? Gabrielle glanced up, only to find Adelys watching her closely, a curious knowledge in her gaze.

“Oh, Gabrielle, do not be coy! We have shared a man before, have we not? And that was without objection.”

“I do not know what you mean,” Gabrielle protested.

“I mean
Michel,
bless his heart, had the enthusiasm but not the technique in bed, if you will forgive me for speaking so boldly.” Adelys nodded to the kitchen door once more. “Whereas Yves, well, I absolutely shiver at the thought of his touch.”

“Michel?” Surely Adelys did not mean that she had…that she and Michel had…what Gabrielle thought she meant?

“Do not look so surprised, Gabrielle!” Adelys reached over and patted her hand. The gesture was obviously meant to be consoling, but the blond woman’s hand was like ice. “You
must
have known.”

Gabrielle could only stare at her guest.

Adelys chortled to herself. “I mean, Michel was so lusty, it was no wonder you needed relief. No one woman alone
could have satisfied him.” Adelys sighed in recollection as Gabrielle gaped. “Such a man he was.” She sighed again. “I have missed Michel.”

Then she met Gabrielle’s stunned gaze and laughed anew. “Oh, Gabrielle, you play the wounded wife too well! Surely you saw us, at least once. Michel was far from discreet, after all. Why, the man had me in the gardens once while you sat on the bench and embroidered, not two dozen feet away. You must have known!”

Gabrielle looked down at her entwined hands and noted that they gripped each other so tightly that the knuckles were white. She recalled the day in the garden very well, though it was seven years past, on Adelys’ first visit to Perricault.

Gabrielle could almost taste how ill she had been that morning, how grateful she had been for Michel’s consideration. He had aided her to her favorite seat in the garden that she might enjoy the sunshine. He had been so thoughtful.

Surely Adelys was lying? Certainly, there had never been love between herself and Michel, but there had been honesty between them.

Or so Gabrielle had thought.

“In the garden?” Gabrielle echoed woodenly, unable to imagine that such an indiscretion would be carried out so boldly.

“Of course! He brought you to sit in the garden and whispered to me how he loved the threat of discovery.” Adelys chortled behind her hand. “Oh, he was quite the enthusiastic mate that day, you can well believe. Quite outdid himself, in fact.”

Gabrielle recalled the pair appearing with surprising suddenness, complete with giddy smiles and leaves clinging to Adelys’ gown. At the time, Gabrielle had innocently swallowed some explanation of a fall on a loose stone, but now it all made a horrible kind of sense.

Gabrielle swallowed, but could not evade the truth.

Adelys had slept with Michel. Then Michel had returned
to Gabrielle’s bed with nary a word of confession or a twinge of guilt.

And this had happened over and over again.

The revelation made Gabrielle’s skin crawl with revulsion. How could Michel have dishonored her and the sanctity of their vows that way? How could Adelys have accepted Gabrielle’s hospitality while committing adultery beneath Perricault’s own roof?

Gabrielle had been a fool not to see the truth. A trusting, innocent fool.

Was she a fool again? It was all too easy to recall the way Yves kissed Adelys’ hand with such grace, how Adelys seemed to
know
what kind of lover he was…

Gabrielle thought she would be ill on the spot.

Adelys leaned closer when Gabrielle said nothing, and her eyes glittered. “You
must
have known, but you did Michel one better by never acknowledging what you knew. Oh, he was so disappointed!”

Gabrielle forcibly swallowed the lump in her throat, well aware of Adelys’ bright gaze upon her. “Of course,” she lied, her voice tight in her throat. “It was as you say.”

Adelys studied her for a long moment, then closed both icy hands over Gabrielle’s own. “And now we shall repeat our delightful habit once more,” she whispered. She nudged Gabrielle playfully and chuckled deep in her throat with delight. “I cannot tell you how pleased I am by your choice of spouse. My visits to Perricault promise to be long indeed!”