by Anne Herries
‘Yes—but I still say be careful.’
‘I shall,’ she promised, kissed him and went on her way.
Pausing outside Marie’s room, Deborah took a deep breath. Mistress Trevern had made her hostility known from the outset, but it could not harm her now. She knew that Nicholas loved her and Marie’s spite could not change that or damage her happiness.
She knocked and was invited to enter. Marie had been looking at something, and hid her hand quickly behind her back. Her defensive manner was so marked that it made Deborah suspicious, and she was sure she knew what the other woman was hiding.
‘What are you concealing?’ she asked. ‘Is it my betrothal ring, Marie? I know you took it. It was in my room when you helped Louise pack my things, yet it was not amongst the things that were sent to me in London.’
‘How dare you?’ Marie’s eyes flashed with anger. ‘Are you calling me a thief?’
‘I know you did not steal it for its value,’ Deborah said. ‘You thought Nicholas would believe I had been careless and lost it. You wanted to cause trouble between us—did you not?’
‘He is a fool to love you!’ Marie said viciously. ‘I would have given him everything. Everything! You could never love him as much as I do!’
‘I do love him, perhaps more than you could ever know,’ Deborah said, remaining calm despite the other’s show of passion. ‘And he loves me. You cannot change that, Marie. Whatever you do. Nothing and no one can come between us.’
‘It was his ring. I wanted something of him! Why must you have it all? Why am I to have nothing?’ Marie suddenly hurled the ring at her. It cut Deborah’s cheek. She touched the wound and found a trace of blood on her fingertips. ‘I wish it had killed you!’ Marie cried. ‘Yes, you should die. If you were dead, Nicholas would turn to me. He loved me until you came…’
Before Deborah had realized what she intended, Marie darted forward and snatched something from the top of her travelling trunk. Deborah saw a flash of silver and sensed that it was a knife. One of the footmen must have left it there after cutting the ropes that had bound the trunk. She gave a scream and put out her hands to protect herself as Marie lifted her arm threateningly.
However, even as Marie launched herself, someone thrust Deborah aside and put himself between them. Deborah watched the struggle, which was brief and over very suddenly. Nicholas was too strong for Marie and within seconds the knife went flying through the air—to be picked up by Sir Edward.
‘I was anxious,’ he said to Deborah, as she looked at him white-faced and shocked. ‘I knew she would harm you if she could—and I told Nicholas what I suspected.’
Marie was sobbing bitterly. She sank to her knees at her cousin’s feet, clutching his legs as her grief poured out.
‘Why did you bring her here?’ she wailed. ‘We were so happy without her. Send her away, Nicholas, and we can be happy again.’
‘Deborah is the woman I love,’ he said harshly. ‘You are the one who shall leave, Marie.’ He wrenched away from her clinging arms and walked to Deborah’s side, his arm about her. ‘Tomorrow I shall wed this woman. You leave this house within the hour. You have your dowry—take it to a nunnery and spend your life in repentance.’
‘Forgive me,’ Marie begged, weeping bitterly as she remained on her knees. ‘I lost my mind for a moment. I did not truly mean to kill her.’
‘Had I not come in time, I doubt not you would have done your best to take Deborah’s life.’ Nicholas could barely contain his fury. ‘I shall tell Jean what kind of a woman you are, cousin. I do not think he would wish to have you as his wife if he knew the truth. No, you shall be taken to a nunnery.’
‘You are so cruel,’ Marie sobbed. ‘I did not think you could be so cruel to me. At least let me return to England—with the dowry you gave me. I may find a husband there.’
‘You deserve no consideration from me!’
Deborah laid her hand on his arm. ‘Let Marie go to England,’ she said. ‘It would be too harsh to force her to life in a nunnery. She does not love Jean—but she might find happiness with someone else.’
Nicholas stared at her and then at Marie, who had now risen to her feet. He hesitated for a few moments, then nodded. ‘Is that what you truly want, cousin?’
Marie glared at Deborah as if she would refuse the favour because it came from her, then her eyes dropped and she seemed to sag as if all the fight had gone out of her.
‘I am sorry, Marie,’ Deborah said. ‘It was never my intention to hurt you.’
‘Forgive me…’ The words were muffled and indistinct but Deborah heard them.
‘Of course,’ she said. ‘You must try to forgive yourself.’
Nicholas took Deborah’s arm and led her from the room. ‘You are too forgiving,’ he said. ‘She would have been out of harm’s way, unable to cause trouble for herself or others.’
‘It would have been too cruel,’ Deborah murmured. ‘We are both so fortunate, Nicholas. We ought to be able to show mercy to your cousin. She deserves a chance of happiness.’
‘Yes, I suppose she does,’ Nicholas said. ‘I was angry because I feared for you—just as I was when I saw you being married to that monster in Spain.’ He gave her a rueful look. ‘I was harsh to you that day—and then you turned to Henri. When I returned from the King’s business, I believed I had lost you. And again I was angry. You must teach me to be kinder, my love.’
‘You will not need to be angry in the future,’ Deborah said and reached up to kiss his cheek. ‘You will never need to doubt my love for you—nor I yours for me.’
Chapter Eighteen
The rays of a wintry sun shone through the high windows of Nicholas’s private chapel, setting rainbows of colour dancing on the ancient flagstones. The building had been closed since his father’s death, but now a priest had blessed the chapel and was waiting to perform the wedding ceremony.
Nicholas turned his head to watch as his bride came down the aisle on her father’s arm. She looked so serene and beautiful that his heart contracted with love for her. He had indeed been blessed. He knew himself unworthy of the love she bore him, but he would strive to deserve it for the rest of their lives.
Deborah was walking in a dream, so happy that it all seemed unreal. Unaware of her groom’s thoughts, she saw only his smile as she reached his side.
She was wearing a gown of cream velvet with trimmings of heavy gold embroidery over a petticoat of white silk. Louise had dressed her hair with white flowers, leaving it to flow loosely on her shoulders. She wore a long string of creamy pearls and a choker of magnificent emeralds and precious diamonds about her slender throat. Matching earbobs hung from her lobes, and she had a bangle of gold set with emeralds and pearls on her wrist.
She was dressed in a manner befitting the much-loved wife of a wealthy man, but the light in her eyes outshone any jewels as she gazed up at her husband-to-be.
Deborah listened carefully to the priest as he solemnly intoned the words that gave her to Nicholas, making her responses in a clear sure voice.
‘You are man and wife in God’s law,’ the priest said, smiling at them. ‘You may kiss your wife, sir.’
Nicholas’s kiss was soft and brief, but his eyes promised so much more. Then they were leaving the chapel and being congratulated by their friends.
‘You are happy, my lady,’ Henri said, and it was not a question for her happiness was in her eyes. ‘I am content. I shall not see you for some months—but I shall return one day, I promise.’
‘We shall always be glad to see you.’
Henri had stood up with Nicholas as his best man. She knew that any differences had been settled between them, and she was glad. It would have hurt her to know she was the cause of a breach of their friendship.
‘Do not fear,’ Henri replied. ‘I love you both dearly. I always knew you belonged to Nico.’
Madame Dubois came to wish Deborah happy. ‘It is so good to have you back with us, madame. Nicholas told me what happened
—how brave you were.’
‘Thank you,’ Deborah said. ‘You must call me by my given name. We shall be close friends now. I want you to come often to our home, Jeanne.’
‘But of course,’ Jeanne cried and kissed her. ‘We shall gossip and drive our husbands wild—but we shall be happy, no?’
‘Yes. We shall all be happy.’
Deborah’s eyes followed her husband about the room as he greeted his guests. She enjoyed being fêted as a bride, but in her heart she longed for the moment when they would be alone.
‘I love my friends dearly, but they are apt sometimes to overstay their welcome,’ Nicholas said much, much later that night. Louise had dressed Deborah in a filmy nightgown and she was sitting at her dressing table when he entered. She had been brushing her hair and turned with a smile as he came to take the brush from her. ‘Let me do that…’
Deborah was content to let him brush her hair. ‘You were a long time in coming.’
‘I had great difficulty in preventing them from accompanying me here,’ he replied with a rueful smile. ‘Fortunately, your father forbade it.’
‘I knew he would,’ she said. ‘How soothing it is to have one’s hair brushed.’
‘Are you soothed enough?’ Nicholas asked. ‘Or are you too tired to make love tonight? It has been a tiring day.’
‘I am not tired,’ she said and stood up, turning to face him with a smile on her face. ‘I have been waiting for this moment all day. Pray take me to bed, my love.’
‘You wish is my command, lady,’ he said, then bent down to sweep her up in his arms. Depositing her carefully on the bed, he knelt beside her, gazing down at her loveliness. ‘You are so beautiful, my beloved. I know I am not worthy of you—but I beg you will never cease to love me as you do now.’
‘I could no more stop loving you than cease to breathe,’ she said and held her hand out to him. ‘Why do you say you are not worthy, Nicholas? I know you to be generous, honest and loving—why do you not value yourself?’
‘I have done things of which I am now ashamed,’ he replied. ‘The Spanish called me Le Diable and I fear I deserved the name.’
‘My father believes you had just cause.’
‘I am grateful for his understanding—but can you forget that I was once no better than a pirate?’
‘I should never have called you that—what you did was not for private gain or greed.’
‘I gave away the gold I took—to my men, King James and others. I wanted nothing except revenge, but revenge is cold and empty. It destroys the soul. I learned that when you brought me back to a sense of goodness and I remembered what it was like to live and be happy.’
‘Then you have only to make your peace with God—for I have already forgotten that there was ever a time I thought ill of you.’
‘I have made my confession and received absolution.’
‘Then think of it no more,’ Deborah said. She flashed him a wicked smile. ‘Indeed, sometimes I have thought you a wicked devil—but I am your wife. No matter what you do, I shall always love you.’
Nicholas smiled and bent to kiss her lips. Any shadows that had lingered in his soul were swept away as he took her in his arms.
‘The Devil’s bride,’ he murmured. ‘Yes, you are mine. And I shall never release you though my namesake comes himself to claim me. We are bound for all eternity, Deborah.’
‘I am content that it shall be so.’ Her eyes danced with wickedness. ‘And now it is my wish that you waste no more time in talk, my lord.’
Nicholas’s laughter rang out strong and sure.
‘I am at your command, my lady,’ he said.
And he was—and she at his.
ISBN: 978-1-4592-3996-8
THE ABDUCTED BRIDE
First North American Publication 2004
Copyright © 2001 by Anne Herries
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