He looked into her pale face, understood her terror and bent instantly. He swung her into his arms and walked her down the steps as she held tightly to his shoulders, her cheek pressed against his.
She only let him go when he put her atop Anguish. He mounted behind her, leaned them both into the steed and kicked in his heels.
His men, Remi with the witch on the back of his horse, fell in around them.
The ride to the village was less than half the time it took when they rode to the castle in their sleigh. Once they reached the inn, Apollo escorted Maddie to her room, Gaston moving to stand sentry beside her door as he pulled her loosely in his arms just inside it.
“I will be back very shortly, poppy. I wish to check on the children.”
She looked up at him, her face still pale, her eyes strange, but she nodded.
He would deal with her fears very soon.
For now, he bent to touch his lips to hers and as he lifted his head, he shuffled her backwards deeper into the room and lowered his voice to say, “I wish to be present when you disrobe, dove. Do not change. Tonight you sleep na**d pressed beside me.”
He watched with surprise and some confused disquiet as he thought he almost caught a wince before her expression cleared, she pressed into him and she whispered, “Okay, honey.”
He drew in breath, let it go, gave her a squeeze and released her to see his children.
They were asleep in their beds, Balthazar in Élan’s room, Quincy in Christophe’s.
He got nods from the men, returned them and made his way back to Maddie.
When he closed and locked her door, he found her again staring out the window. Her borrowed cloak was thrown over a chair. Her borrowed dress still on.
She’d fed the fire and lit a lamp by the bed.
But now, she stood unmoving, her eyes to the window.
“Close the drapes, dove,” he ordered gently and again watched her start and turn to him.
She nodded and did as ordered as he walked to the side of the bed closest to her and sat down.
“Come to me, Madeleine,” he said, his voice still gentle.
As he wished, she came to him and she did it close, stopping between his spread legs.
He lifted his hands and put them to her hips, his head tipped back to keep hold of her eyes.
“Are you sore from your endeavors tonight, my poppy?” he asked.
“I don’t feel anything,” she answered.
He didn’t relish the way she said that, her voice strangely without emotion. However, he suspected after all that had befell her that eve, it would take much to process it, including time.
But he would be there to help her do it.
“You’ll feel it on the morrow,” he murmured.
“Probably,” she murmured back, her eyes drifting.
“You’re safe, Maddie,” he assured her.
She drew in a breath and nodded to the headboard.
“Madeleine,” he called and she looked back to him. “I wish to ask something of you.”
Her eyes held his in a way he found strange, moving, yet troubling, even as she lifted her hand and cupped his jaw.