He tried to keep from smiling. "You did all that and more, Sabine. There is but one question that burns in my mind, and I must hear you say the words, while I look into your eyes. Do you love me at all?"
She could not speak.
Garreth laughed and gathered her close. "It is wrong of me to tease you, Sabine. I know you love me, and don't deny it."
She laid her head against his shoulder. "How could you not know?"
"Especially since you so recently admitted it to me yourself."
She raised her head and looked at him. "When?"
He placed his cheek against hers. "When I was wounded and you thought I was unconscious. I was sorely tempted to kiss you then, but it was much nicer listening to you say how much you loved me."
There was no longer reason for pretense or false pride. "I do love you—I suppose I always have."
He reached into his pocket and withdrew the ring he had given her on their wedding day. "Will you wear this, knowing that this time it is given with love and not out of duty?"
She nodded, too choked to speak, as he slid the ruby ring on her finger.
He shook his head. "Oh, my Sabine, how far we have come to find happiness, when all the time, it was right where the king had commanded it."
She lay her face against his chest and planted a kiss there. "What shall we do now?"
His smile was devastating. "It's simple—I love you and you love me—is that not a beginning?"
She closed her eyes as his arms tightened about her. "Yes, oh, yes."
"Little did I know that the night 1 fell in love with La Flamme, I was in love with my own wife."
She stood on her tiptoes and brushed her lips against his. "You will not tell anyone about my past?"
Humor danced in his eyes when he saw her uncertainty. "No, we can hardly admit that the duchess of Balmarough is in fact the famous La Flamme."
He pressed his cheek to hers. "There will be those who will comment that you resemble the mysterious actress."
"Yes," she said smiling, "and I shall most certainly act indignant, and you will insist that they apologize for daring to make such a comparison, and as my husband you must challenge them to a duel."
Garreth laughed softly. "Not me. You are the better swordsman."
They both laughed and then he became serious. "To me you are many women in one. You are the lovely little Sabine—the exciting La Flamme, and my duchess who conquered a king. Most of all, you are my wife and the mother of my children."
The rain hammered against the slanted roof, and lightning illuminated the sky, but Sabine and Garreth did not notice. They were locked in each other's arms, unrestrained happiness at last fusing them together.
"I have never told you," she said, as his lips brushed her cheek, "that you once came to me as an answer to a prayer."
He looked at her quizzically. "When was this?"
Her expression was serious. "It was the day you appeared behind me in the little chapel in Paris. I had asked for a sign—for someone to help me and Richard—I looked up and you were there, my love."
He gave her a smile that warmed her heart. "I was compelled to seek you out that day. Little did I know that a higher power guided my steps."
She nestled in his arms, glorying in his strength. "This is where I want to be, Garreth."
He laughed and held Sabine to his heart, his dark eyes soft and loving. "It would seem we have no choice. We were first commanded by a king, and then by God's higher power. It must be ordained that we love each other."
Her heart was too full to speak.
"Will you pledge your love to me for all time, my lady wife?"
"Forever," she promised, her eyes glowing.
He lowered his head to capture her lips. At last, they had overcome all the obstacles that had kept them apart.
They were as one mind, one heart, one love.
La Flamme (Historical Romance) Page 30
