Through a Dark Mist - By Marsha Canham Page 0,134

any cost, but you were already in my blood and it was too late.”

“Why did you send me away? You must have known long before I did, that a word, or a gesture, and I would have—”

He laid a finger across her lips. “You would have stayed with me in the forest? Servanne—I had a score of men at Thornfeld, another eighty or so camped some miles along the Lincoln road. Our task was to get inside Bloodmoor Keep and rescue the Princess Eleanor. You were—”

“A pawn?” she asked, her voice betraying no rancour or bitterness, which only made Lucien’s oath all the more self-deprecating as he covered her lips with his own.

“It is a shame I will bear to my grave to have to say we needed the ruse of the wedding to get inside the castle. Without you, there would have been no wedding.”

“Surely you could still have ransomed the princess from Prince John?”

“On neutral ground, outside the castle walls, no doubt we could. But then—”

“M’sieur La Seyne Sur Mer would not have been able to challenge the Baron de Gournay to a joust, and Lucien Wardieu would not have been able to fight for his honour and birthright, and there would not have been bowers full of witnesses to bear out your claim.”

The Wolf sighed and shook his head in resignation. “I told you once before you were too clever for your own good. Perhaps I should have left you in the forest.”

“Perhaps I could help …?”

“Do not,” he said harshly, his voice changing from velvet to steel in the blink of an eye, “do not even think to interfere or trifle with forces you do not understand. Etienne is a madman—mad with greed and avarice and power. He would not hesitate to swat you like a fly if he thought for one moment you were a threat to him. Promise me … swear to me here and now you will do nothing—nothing at all to draw attention to yourself!”

“But how can you ask me to stay away from the tourney when it is my life as much as yours being decided on the field!”

“How can you expect me to concentrate on doing what I must do if every time I look up, I see you seated there between Prince John and Nicolaa de la Haye?”

Servanne had not thought of that. But she did not accept defeat well either, and gave frowning proof of it as Lucien pulled the gown over her head and began straightening the rumpled folds. She continued frowning, and searching so hard for a reasonable alternative, he could not resist a smile.

“Maledictions, madam, I sorely trust each and every decision to be made in the future will not be met with such lengthy catechism. It leads me to believe you have been spoiled too long, and grown too accustomed to having your own way.”

“Whereas you, sirrah, have been left in the wild too long and show a marked lack of subtlety and compassion.”

“I warn you now, I’ll not take well to any attempts to tame me.”

“Nor will I,” she said, her eyes sparkling with the challenge.

Lucien caught his breath sharply, thinking how utterly beautiful she was at that instant. The pale gold of her hair was like liquid silk against his fingers, her skin like warm satin. Her eyes, luminous and bottomless were as deep and evocative as the waters of the Silent Pool, and he remembered his pledge to take her back to the magical grotto and pleasure her until the forest rang out with their ecstasy.

“Promise me, Servanne,” he demanded softly. “Promise me you will stay out of harm’s way.”

Servanne’s eyes grew hooded and a shiver tautened the flesh across her breasts as she felt his hands stroking up her thighs, raising the hem of her gown as they did so.

“I will do as you ask,” she whispered. “I promise.”

The muscles across his shoulders rippled and gleamed in the flickering light as he lowered her onto their bedding of discarded clothing again.

“Your word is your honour,” he murmured, “and I do not question it, but …”

Servanne’s body ached wonderfully. Her limbs were shaky, but did not falter once on the misty route back to the main keep. Lucien’s arm around her waist for most of the journey was more than enough support, and when he reluctantly agreed with Alaric that he dared go no farther, the thrumming, thrilling aftereffects of their lovemaking were enough to see her through the final gates

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