Sabine replied using words from one of Jacques' plays. "Monsieur le due, it is said that you have taken the hearts of dozens of ladies and dropped them with little remorse. I only pray that you will be kinder to me."
Garreth was not fooled, or amused, by her act. "Do not play a role with me. I am not one of your simpletons who sit in the audience every night just for a glimpse of you."
She looked at him innocently, knowing he had attended every performance since they had met. "Tell me, Monsieur le due, how many times have you been in the audience?"
Suddenly he started laughing. She had cleverly trapped him with his own words. What did it matter, when soon victory would be his? "Tonight I worship you close at hand. And I'll have you to myself."
She turned away from him, studying the silk print on the seat across from her. "I do not want to be worshipped."
"What do you want, La Flamme?" he asked in a low, caressing voice.
Garreth had the power to seduce her with words. She decided it would be safer to make him talk about himself. "Is it not true that you have broken many poor maidens' hearts?"
"Who has told you this?"
"The distance from London to Paris is not as considerable as you might believe. There are those who have mentioned you to me. It is said that your heart belongs to a certain Lady Meredith. Will she not care that you are dining with me tonight?"
Garreth was stunned for a moment. "That information is outdated. Tonight, I only want to talk about you and how enchanting you are."
Sabine knew she had struck a nerve and smiled as she toyed with the diamond bracelet at her wrist. "I seldom believe flattery. Especially when it comes from a highborn gentleman. Most of your class would say anything in a moment of passion, non?"
He nodded at her bracelet. "Did one of your highborn gentlemen give you that little trinket? I doubt it came from peasant stock."
"As I told you, I would never accept something so valuable from a man. If I did, he would believe that he had some claim on me, when I belong only to myself."
"Did Richard's father give you expensive trinkets?" Garreth asked, suddenly jealous of the unknown man.
"But of course. That was different—he had the right."
Garreth was more determined than ever to break down the barriers La Flamme had built around her heart. "What would a gentleman be required to do that he might win the right to give you gifts?"
She looked directly at him. "He would have to win my heart, and I do not believe that is possible."
"Can it be that you have just issued me a challenge?"
"No, Monsieur le due, I merely spoke the truth." Again she turned the conversation back to him. "I am sure many women have loved you."
He took an impatient breath. "Not so many."
She took her courage in hand. "It is said that you were married to a young girl of family who died under suspicious circumstances."
She could feel him stiffen. It was so silent inside the coach that the only sound that could be heard was the clopping of the horses' hooves on the cobbled streets.
"Your informant is not precisely correct, Mademoiselle. I do not yet accept the fact that my wife is dead."
His revelation came as a surprise to her. He still believed she was alive. She must not panic or show weakness. "If you have a wife, you should not have asked me to dine with you, Monsieur. I do not consider it proper."
In a sudden move that took her by surprise, Garreth gripped her by the shoulders and brought her body against his. "Does that matter?" His lips grazed her cheek. "Does anything matter except that we are together? I have no other woman in my mind or in my heart save you—does that satisfy your curiosity?"
Sabine blinked her eyes. It was becoming harder to play the coquette. "Now it is you who is toying with me, Monsieur le due. Surely, you do not expect me to believe that a man can feel so deeply about a woman he has known but a short while?"
He wanted to shake her, to make her admit that there was something rare and wonderful between them. "You know very well what you are doing to me, and I believe you enjoy keeping me on a hook." His eyes were burning into hers. "Do not play coy with me, for you are no innocent. You are aware of my feelings for you because you have felt them, too."
Her laughter was forced. "You think much of your prowess with women, Your Grace. Why should you believe that I feel anything for you but amusement?"
His arms tightened about her so that she could scarcely breathe. "Am I amusing you now?" His hand slid up her neck and he held her chin firm, while his lips were only inches from hers. "Why are you not laughing?"
Sabine's heart was beating wildly, and she was sure that she would be unable to catch her breath. "Release me," she said, hoping he didn't hear the fear in her voice.
To her surprise, Garreth did. "If you do not want me to make love to you, then tell me now. I cannot be with you and not touch you," he said gruffly.
"You go too far," she said in panic. "You asked for a companion at dinner, and that is all I agreed to, Your Grace."
He let out his breath and moved back against the coach seat. "You are right, of course. Forgive me."
She wondered why she suddenly felt like crying. "Is this the way you treat all your women?"
"What do you mean by all my women?" he asked in exasperation. "I told you that I have no women in my life."
"Not your wife . . . not your mistress? Deny it if you will, but I do not believe that a man such as yourself would deprive himself of women's companionship."
The hurt Sabine had felt so long ago came rushing back as if it had happened only yesterday. How well she remembered the pain of finding out on her wedding day that her husband loved Lady Meredith.
Garreth watched her golden eyes become piercing and cold, and that made him want her more than ever. The only woman who had touched his heart in years seemed to hold him in contempt, and he didn't know why. But there was something he did know about her— she was not as unresponsive to his touch as she would have him believe.
Sabine pushed her distress to the back of her mind. No matter what she had to do, she would find a way to reach Garreth's heart. Then she would rip it to shreds. Whatever she did to him would be no more than he deserved.
She laid her hand on his arm. "It's true that you are the only man I have ever agreed to dine with alone. I don't know what made me accept your invitation."
Garreth was not smiling. "Tell me about Richard's father."
Sabine tried not to feel triumphant as she realized that Garreth was tormented by the belief that she was Richard's mother. She would allow him to ask the questions, fuel his curiosity by her truthful answers—and lead him to a wrong conclusion. "I... loved Richard's father," she said. "I shall always love him. I was very young when he died, and I have had to take care of Richard alone. Of course, Ysabel, Marie, and Jacques have become our family. We could not have survived without them."
"Did not Richard's father provide for you?"
"He died too suddenly. He could not help us." She paused, fearing that she might cry. "I am told that his last thoughts were of us."
Garreth did not understand the burning jealousy he had for a dead man, but there were questions he must ask. "Have you loved no man since Richard's father?"
"Not in the same way I loved him. But Richard's father is dead, and I am alive."
"How do I contend with a ghost?" Garreth asked, voicing his frustration.
"Indeed," Sabine said, hatred battling for dominance within her. "Richard's father's ghost does stand between us!"
"It's difficult for me to believe that a woman as beautiful as you has lived a chaste life. Yet, that is what is said about you."
Sabine bit her trembling lip. "I am gratified that you think me beautiful. But I do not believe you should concern yourself about my life."
"Whether you welcome it or not, I'm in your life." His eyes were suddenly piercing. "You want something from me, and I do not know what it is."
By now the coach had rea
ched its destination, and Sabine glanced at the brightly lit chateau. She had been so engrossed with their conversation that she had not noticed they had driven into the country.
"What is this place, Monsieur le due? This is not my home."
"We have arrived at Stephen's chateau."
"Why did you bring me here, and where is Stephen?"
"I brought you here so we could be alone. Stephen will be staying in Paris tonight."
Before Sabine could protest, the coach door was whisked open and a footman lowered the steps, offering his arm to her. She reluctantly stepped down and allowed Garreth to lead her inside. Her plan had been to be alone with him, but at her home, not here.
"Do not be concerned," he said next to her ear so the butler could not hear. "We shall be quite alone except for the servants, and they will serve us and leave."
She stiffly allowed him to lead her down a hallway.
"Why did you not ask me if I would come here with you?" she demanded. "I do not like to be tricked."
He merely smiled. "I did not trick you. Had you asked where we were going, I would have told you."
"I find your manners questionable. Do you not think 1 should have been given the choice of accepting or refusing?"
"If I am in error, I will take you back to Paris at once. You have only to say the word."
"I have given you no reason to believe that I am promiscuous and would welcome such an arrangement."
His eyes settled on her lips. "Forgive me. You are right, of course—I did take liberties."
She reconsidered. "I will have dinner with you, but then you must take me home."
She expected him to look triumphant, but he merely nodded. If she didn't know better, she would have thought he was unsure of himself.
"I believe everything is in readiness." He offered her his arm. "Shall we dine?"
Sabine laid the tips of her fingers on his sleeve. "One can only hope that I shall still have a reputation by morning."
Garreth was mystified. An actress, after all, was not considered a lady. Why did he have the feeling she was an innocent? Because, he reminded himself, she was an actress, and that was what she wanted him to believe.
Instead of escorting her to the formal dining room, he led her to a salon on the second floor, where a table had been placed in front of a window with a sweeping view of the Seine.
She watched tiny lights bobbing up and down and realized that they were fishing boats.
"I've never been here. It's quite lovely." She turned to him, smiling. "Have you brought many women here?"
She had thought he would laugh or make some humorous remark. But he steered her to the table and seated her before he answered. One hand came down on her shoulder, and he raised her chin with the other. "You are the only woman I have ever brought here, but as you are aware, this is not my home."
Shame and anger washed over her at the reminder of Stephen. Did he know of Garreth's plans with her this evening? "Surely Stephen was not a party to your bringing me here."
"No, of course not." Garreth wondered who La Flamme thought she was fooling by pretending to be so maidenly, when they both knew she was not. "You will find that I have been discreet."
His hand seemed to burn into her skin, and Sabine was frightened by her reaction to him. She started to rise. "I should leave."
"Please stay. You have my word that you are safe with me."
She dropped back into the chair while he moved around the small table to sit opposite her. For a long moment, his eyes lingered on her face.
"Tonight, let us play a game," he said at last.
"Before 1 agree to that," she replied, intrigued, "you must first tell me what kind of game."
He had a scheme that he hoped would draw her secrets from her. "It's simple. We shall be totally honest with each other." He arched his brow. "Dare you play my game?"
"I will agree to be honest, but I shall also add rules of my own. If the question becomes too personal, and if either of us do not wish to answer, we shall keep our silence. Agreed?"
A servant entered, placed covered dishes on the table, then quietly withdrew. Garreth poured La Flamme a glass of wine before he answered. "I agree to your terms."
She raised the glass to her lips and took a sip. "You go first, Monsieur le due."
"Could you not call me Garreth?"
"Of course, Garreth," she said with a smile. "Is that your first question?"
He watched her carefully. "And what shall I call you?"
She raised her glass to his. "You may, as you already know, call me La Flamme."
"What do your friends call you?"
"I have few friends."
"You dance around the truth very cleverly. By what name does Monsieur de Baillard call you?"
"I choose not to answer."
"Which is an answer in itself," Garreth observed. "Your reluctance proves that the de Baillards know your real name—true?"
"True," she agreed. "Now it's my turn, Garreth Blackthorn."
He sat back in the chair, his eyes on her. "I am ready."
"You said you had been married?"
"Yes."
"And you consider yourself still married?"
He hesitated, wondering if he could make her understand. "It is accepted by most people that my wife is dead, but I am not so sure."
Sabine tensed, swallowing her fear. "Did you love your wife?"
The food on the table went uneaten as they both became engrossed in their game, and in each other. "In truth, I hardly knew her. She was little more than a child. I never knew her as a husband."
She gathered her courage to question him further. "How can that be? Was she so repulsive that you could not tolerate the sight of her?"
"I have tried to recall her face, and all I can remember is a pair of golden eyes, not unlike your own. She was merely a lovely child."
Sabine dropped her eyes. "Tell me more about her."
This game was not going as Garreth had intended, but he would answer her questions. "I have spoken to no one about her for so long because everyone else believes she is dead and encourages me to do the same. Her name is Sabine, and she was a frightened little girl who had been forced to marry a man she didn't know. I can recall feeling mostly pity for her."
The candles flickered and burned low in their silver holders, but neither Garreth nor Sabine noticed, as their game continued.
Sabine brushed a stray curl from her face, a movement that caught and held Garreth's attention.
"What happened to your pitiful little wife?"
"Tis over, 'tis done," he said bitterly.
"That is no answer."
"I have no answer." He fortified his patience. "I searched for her for many months, but found no trace of her. There are those who would have me petition the king to put the marriage aside so I might remarry and beget an heir, but I am not willing until I know what happened to her."
"Poor unfortunate girl, to be married to a man who loses his wife and cannot find her."
Garreth reached across the table, took her hand, and laced his fingers through hers. "It's my turn now. Tell me, La Flamme, have you ever loved a man?"
"Yes, of course."
"Richard's father?"
"Deeply."
"Have you never loved a man save him?"
She smiled. "I once thought I was madly in love with a young man, but as you cannot recall your wife's face, I cannot remember his."
"His name?"
She withdrew her hand, remembering the day she had fallen in love with him. "I have been well brought up," she said at last, "and know one does not discuss old lovers with another man. And besides it was long ago."
He smiled ruefully. "Have you ever been married?"
She hesitated only a moment. "Everyone knows that La Flamme has no husband."
Garreth was no longer smiling. "Richard's father did not marry you?"
There was a scowl on his face, and she wanted to laugh at the irony of the situation. H
e was now the hunted, and she was becoming the hunter in their game. Her heart felt lighter and she managed to laugh. Garreth had no notion that he was sitting at the same table with his poor, pitiful little wife. She would twist him and manipulate him without him knowing.
"Richard's father already had a wife when I met him."
There was an edge to Garreth's voice. "You must have been very young."
She found humor in baiting him by telling the truth. "Love knows no age."
Garreth was tight-lipped, and it was clear that he was no longer enjoying their game. "If I am wrong, I shall ask your pardon, but I must know. Have you any feelings for me?"
Sabine stood. "I know so little about you, Garreth."
"Dare I hope that your feelings could deepen if you came to know me?"
Sabine did not like where his questions were leading. He was forcing her to examine her inner feelings, something she was not prepared to do. "How can I answer that, when I do not know myself?"
She moved to the door, and would have opened it, but Garreth stopped her. He took her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. She was trapped between his hard body and the wall. Her throat suddenly closed, and she could scarcely breathe.
She turned her head to follow the mouth that was so near, wanting to feel his lips on hers.
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Garreth's lips were soft when they settled on Sabine's. Tenderly, he nestled her against his body and heat simmered inside her. His hands moved up to clasp her head, and he deepened the kiss. He held her so tightly that she could feel the muscles of his body.
Wild and wonderful feelings ripped through Sabine like a churning sea, and her lips parted as she sought more of what his kiss promised.
When he raised his head, his eyes held her captive, and she could only bury her face against his chest, feeling suddenly shy. She heard the beating of his heart—he was as moved by the kiss as she had been.
Garreth dipped his head, and once more his lips were on hers, drawing emotions from her that she didn't want to feel. It was becoming harder for her to remember that he was dangerous. She could only think that this was her husband, and how wonderful it was to be in his arms at last.
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