But the fact remained that she had never truly come into contact with one of Christian’s women and was surprised to realize her jealousy. And the fact that her intended seemed to be taking great delight in flaunting his affair angered her further.
“I see,” she replied coolly to his falsehood. “What is her name? Or can she speak for herself?”
Christian looked to Gaithlin, who was gazing steadily at Maggie. She knew, instinctively, that he would allow her to reply to the catty inquiry. He expected no less.
“The Lady Gaithlin.” Her sultry voice was seductive, erotic.
Maggie cocked a delicate eyebrow, moving closer as to better inspect Christian’s whore. “The Lady Gaithlin what?”
“De Blanc,” Christian answered for her, evenly. “My mother’s sister married Suffolk de Blanc. The Lady Gaithlin is her only child.”
Maggie continued to stare at Gaithlin. The tension between the two women was brittle enough to shatter at the slightest provocation, building to deafening dimensions as if to explode the walls of the very room. “I thought your aunt was childless, Christian.”
Christian crossed his arms, unwilling to be interrogated by his unfaithful betrothed. “Are you accusing me of falsehood?”
“Not at all,” Maggie replied smoothly, her gaze raking over Gaithlin in a most depreciating manner. “However, she is pitifully clothed for a relation to the House of St. John. Where are her trunks so that I might help her dress properly?”
“Lost,” Gaithlin replied before Christian could answer. “Thieves, you know.”
Maggie cast her a dubious, mocking expression. “Thieves managed to steal your valuables with the Demon of Eden as your escort? Shocking.”
Gaithlin’s simmering annoyance with the woman’s haughty demeanor blossomed into an irritation of loathing proportions. “Although he managed to do a good deal of damage, even my dear cousin was relatively subdued by the fifty bandits who set upon us. But it was a magnificent fight.” The corner of her lips twitched in a surprisingly erotic gesture. “There was a good deal of blood. Red. Sticky. Salty-tasting blood.”
Christian nearly choked, his gaze riveted to Gaithlin as her incredible eyes twinkled mischievously. The atmosphere between her and Maggie had flourished in unexpected directions and Christian received the distinct impression that Gaithlin was not so sheltered and naive as he had supposed. There was something in her tone, not to mention her words….
Even as he was filled with thoughts of suggestive intent and puzzlement, Maggie was positively pale. The tall woman with the cat-shaped eyes unnerved her somehow and she was suddenly unwilling to provoke her further.
Taking a breath to steady her nerves, she returned her focus to Christian. “Your cousin is… charming, Christian. Now, will you sit and enjoy the wild boar Kelvin killed this morn?”
Jaw grinding, Christian was torn away from the titillating visions Gaithlin had provoked with her seductive voice and bizarre, evocative expression to find himself focused on Maggie once again. His first reaction was to refuse, but catching sight of Gaithlin from the corner of his eye, he was fully aware that the only reason he had sought shelter for the night was to spare her from the terrible elements outside.
She was already dirty and disheveled and damp, and a night in the pouring weather might serve to damage more than her mood and appearance; he could very well find himself with a sickly captive and had no desire to shoulder the burden of her death. But even as he attempted to convince himself that he was purely concerned for her health, he realized that his regard ran deeper than he was willing to admit.
For the first time in his life, Christian was inclined to swallow his pride for the sake of another. He was acutely cognizant of the fact that he would be sitting at a table full of diners who had been witnessing his betrothed’s infidelities for the better part of two days, but suddenly, his humiliation didn’t seem overly important. The past was set and there was nothing he could do about the good and the bad of it; remaining at Forrestoak to demonstrate his unconcern for Maggie’s actions would be of far worse insult to her than to him. In faith, his emotions had never been particularly affected by her infidelity. Tonight, he would prove the fact. He would convey her worthlessness to him.
“Aye,” his voice was low, a roll of distant thunder. “My cousin and I will stay the night to enjoy Forrestoak’s fare.”
A seductive smile creased Maggie’s lips, instantly vanished by the quelling expression on Christian’s face. He knew what she was thinking and he wanted no part of her; instead, as an added deliberate insult, he extended his hand to Gaithlin.
There was a certain amount of satisfaction in accepting his outstretched hand, and Gaithlin did so with relish. She was coming to understand the circumstances around her, the game being played out before Christian’s unfaithful betrothed. Although she shouldn’t have cared in the least whether or not the woman was faithful to the Demon of Eden, the desire to protect him against the conniving wench was still an undeniably powerful force. And by accepting Christian’s outstretched palm, she was helping him gain revenge against the treacherous woman. It was the first time a de Gare had supported a St. John in over seventy years.
Clutching Gaithlin’s warm hand as he made his way to the lengthy head table, Christian was well aware of the fact. He was also well aware of another thing at that moment; he liked her on his arm.
*
Sup had been a relatively bloodless, if not silent, experience of fine food and an abundance of wine. Lady Carolyn Howard was nowhere to be found, as Christian had suspected, and Kelvin had mumbled a rambling excuse regarding his sister’s ill health and early fatigue.
The true reason, of course, was that Carolyn was back at Castle Howard while her friend romped with Kelvin in the wilds of Cumbria. Knowing Maggie would not have paid her any attention had she been foolish enough to accompany her, Carolyn was content to remain at home and tease her father’s knights into insanity. While Maggie had her fun, using her friend as a convenient and proper disguise, Carolyn would follow her usual pursuits until Maggie grew tired of Kelvin and returned to Castle Howard. At that time, they would continue with their visit as usual without Christian being the wiser. Little did Carolyn realize the events that had transpired that day.
But Christian was unconcerned with the Howard tramp, or Maggie’s lame excuses, or anything else that involved the Howard situation this night. As he stood in his borrowed bower, contemplating the rain outside his window, he simply could not escape the more powerful thoughts intent on robbing him of his sleep. Too many alien emotions he was unused to experiencing, too many tumultuous sensations to sort. Too much confusion over the de Gare captive.
After gorging themselves on roast boar and other sumptuous offerings, Kelvin had personally escorted them to their respective chambers, not far from one another. Christian had ignored Kelvin for the most part, a man he considered a former friend; he was a trusting soul until betrayed or crossed. After that, there was no forgiveness and there were no second chances. And Kelvin, having knowingly cavorted with the other man’s betrothed, was no longer subject to the Demon’s good graces.
Kelvin was well aware of Christian’s cold demeanor and greatly troubled by the fact. He had hoped that plying the man with expensive food and drink would be enough to offset his offense, but it was obvious from the beginning that Christian was beyond the deliverance of mercy. Even if they hadn’t seen one another in ten years, Kelvin could scarcely believe that Christian was fully intent on disregarding a long-standing relationship.
As Christian had acquired a rather roguish reputation over the course of the years, Kelvin found it hard to accept that the man would be so unforgiving over actions he himself had committed. Distressed with the entire situation and lack of forgiveness, he had bid his former friend and the man’s beautiful cousin a good eve.
That had been hours ago. Staring off into the misty night cloaking Cumbria’s rule, Christian could hardly track the course of his thoughts. Wond
ering how a single day could have left him so completely detached from everything in life he had ever known to be right or wrong.
Even if his swirling ideals were muddled and vague, one thought reigned as clear as crystal; the Lady Gaithlin de Gare. She had been a most surprising sight to behold during the meal, eating as much as Christian easily and suckling the juices off her long, slender fingers, unknowingly sending every man in the room into seizures of erotic fantasies.
She’d hardly uttered a word, speaking only when spoken to, and above the entire disjointed, bedraggled picture she presented, Christian found himself quite convinced that the Lady Gaithlin had been subject to a life of meager sustenance.
Strange how he had suddenly become aware of the fact. He, too, had been gripped with lust at the sight of her long fingers wiping themselves across her tongue until he realized that she was licking her flesh to gain every last morsel rather than to wipe the remnants away. And she ate with such ferocity and speed that one would have thought she was expected her food to be whisked away from her at any moment.
Certainly, not the table manners of a well-bred young lady. They were the table manners of a woman who had known more than her share of hardships. A woman who had known the meaning of hunger.
Hardships created by the St. Johns. Christian knew that all too well. Winding Cross had been under constant siege for years, subject to innumerable blockades, and it was obvious that the harassment and badgering had been effective. Eden was a good deal larger, able to keep her supply lines open due to her sheer manpower, whereas Winding Cross was basically isolated from the rest of the English realm by her remote location and smaller forces.
Behind the thirty-foot stone walls that Eden’s forces had been unable to breach, a world of hell and despair had undoubtedly manifested itself and Christian found himself admiring the fact that the de Gares had been able to exist through such horrendous conditions without succumbing. The St. Johns had wanted the de Gares to suffer, wanting to break their spirits and their souls, but the de Gares had yet to break.
Gazing out over the muddy, damp night, Christian wondered what other horrors the St. Johns had forced Gaithlin to endure. Horrors he had caused.
His thoughts were abruptly broken as a soft knock vibrated his bower door. Moving away from the rain-spattered window, Christian unhooked the latch.
Maggie was standing in the archway, her sharp face pretty and flushed. Clad in a beautiful gown of gold, she curtsied gracefully at Christian’s feet.
“Good eve, my lord,” she purred.
His expression was impassive. “What do you want?”
Her smile faded somewhat, though she made a valiant attempt to appear undeterred. “I thought you might enjoy a bit of company this night.”
“Nay,” he said flatly. “Go back to Kelvin’s bed, Maggie. I have no use for you any longer.”
She lost the struggle against her vanishing smile. “What do you mean, Christian? I am your betrothed, your intended. Surely you cannot…!”
“I can and I do,” he rumbled. His jaw ticked as he allowed the door to swing open wide, crossing his arms as if to physically prevent her entry. “You have been mildly amusing for sixteen years, my dear, but I must say that I have had my fill of you. I have thought the matter through this night and I have decided to solicit my father with the intention of breaking our betrothal.”
Maggie’s face was ashen with shock. “You cannot be serious, Christian. I have done nothing….”
He put up a sharp hand. “Spare me more of your lies. I have been aware of your infidelities for years, though I must say I am guilty for the fact that I allowed them to continue,” he shrugged carelessly. “I suppose you did not matter to me terribly, therefore, I was unconcerned with your adulterous actions. After all, I had no interest in remaining faithful to a mere betrothal contract, either.”
Maggie simply stared at him, sickened and disbelieving. After a moment, her brown eyes began to smolder. “How can you condemn me for the very same actions you admit to committing yourself? I thought we understood one another, Christian. As long as we were discreet, we were quite content to live our separate lives until the day our wedding vows enslaved us.”
His jaw ticked as he gazed at her. Once, her words had been true. They had been unfaithful to one another for the duration of their entire relationship and Christian found himself wondering when, and how, he had suddenly managed to acquire an overactive conscience.
But as he lingered on his newly acquired sense of righteousness, surprising as it was, it abruptly occurred to him that his perception of commitment had seeped deep into his soul the very moment he had taken Gaithlin in his arms. To imagine her enclosed within another man’s heated embrace nearly drove him to instantaneous madness. She was made for him, and to think of betraying her by bestowing his affections on another made him wild with guilt.
Were she his, he would never as much as look at another woman again. The fact was that he hadn’t looked at another woman since the day he had witnessed Gaithlin’s erotic water ballet. He’d fallen in love with her that very moment. Suddenly, commitment and emotion took on an entirely different meaning when applied to Gaithlin. De Gare or no, she was the only woman in the world worth pledging his faith and loyalty to. He’d known it from the first; finally, he found a woman he was willing to commit his heart, his soul, his body to forever.
Forsaking all others.
He couldn’t marry Maggie. Not when he loved Gaithlin.
Good Christ, he loved her! He could scarcely believe the powerful revelation. It was a violent realization, a marvelous awareness, a bevy of powerful emotions that caused his head to spin in blinding, endless circles.
He closed his eyes to ward of the baffling thoughts ranting through his mind, turning away from Maggie in a vain attempt to collect his composure. In fact, Maggie ceased to exist as he paced the woolen carpet of his bower, meandering aimlessly as he came to grips with the shocking turn his emotions had taken.
“Christian?” Maggie had followed him into the room, wondering why his face was suddenly so pale. “Are you well? I forgive you your words, of course, since you are obviously ill. Come and rest, darling. Maggie will heal you.”
He didn’t realize his hands were to his face, an unconscious gesture of disbelief and shock. But the clammy palms came away from his pallid cheeks as he forced himself to focus on the situation at hand. The sooner he rid himself of Maggie’s unwanted presence, the better able he would be to collect himself.
“I am not ill,” his voice was hoarse. “Go away, Maggie. I do not want you here.”
Her expression dampened. “But you’re not looking at all well, darling. Is something the matter?”
“Nay!” he suddenly roared, watching Maggie leap with fear. Fighting down the surging tides of confusion and irritation, he struggled to maintain his calm as he pointed at his open bower door. “Get out, Maggie. I shall not ask you again.”
Driven to a grand performance of tears, both real and pretend, Maggie backed away from him with wide, frightened eyes. “I… I do not understand, Christian,” she moaned softly. “It has always been this way between us. You had your life and I had mine. I thought you were happy this way.”
“Happy?” he repeated dully, as if he had never heard the word. He shook his head slowly. “What is there to be happy of? Seeking in other women what I could never find in you, searching endlessly through England’s female ranks for the one solitary female who would satisfy my needs in life? I was never happy, Maggie. And I don’t think you are either.”
Delicate tears splashed to her cheeks. “Yes I am, darling. You make me very happy.”
His face was taut with emotion and fatigue. “If I did, then you would have remained faithful to me.”
Maggie stared at him a moment, thinking on his words. Seeing a grain of truth. Wiping at her eyes, she seemed more intent to ponder his calm words than to carry on an act.
“Are you suggesting that we will never be happy or t
rue to each other?” she asked softly, fixing him with her wide brown eyes. “If that is the case, then I promise you that you are wrong. I shall be true to you from this moment on if that is what you wish. And I shall make you happy, Christian. I swear it.”
He met her gaze, unwilling to consider her offer. It occurred to him that he was very eager to be rid of her, concerned to focus his time and energies on the one woman who had occupied his mind for the better part of a month. Good Christ, he was in the midst of the most irrational thoughts he had ever had the misfortune to generate. Thoughts of loving a de Gare, thoughts of being faithful to none other than his family’s mortal foe. A woman who, at the moment, was his captive. He’d never considered himself capable of being completely faithful to one woman but, then again, he’d never met a de Gare before.
“No more, Maggie,” his voice was soft with fatigue. “We have said all there is to say. Consider yourself a free woman from this night on.”
Maggie stood in front of the archway, no longer tearful. Although Christian seemed completely determined to discard her from his life, she wasn’t entirely convinced of his sincerity. Certainly, he was angry for having caught her in a tryst with one of her innumerable lovers, but she was quite certain that time and careful thought would gradually bring him back to his senses.
And the fact that Jean St. John was looking forward to the du Bois dowry with a particular hunger would also help to convince Christian that his harsh words had been rash. Aye, Christian’s father would be of tremendous help to her cause.
“Very well, darling,” she said softly, moving through the doorway. “If that is your wish, I shall leave you to your thoughts.”
Christian didn’t say anything as she silently quit the room, knowing very well it would not be the last time he beheld her presence. Maggie was too preoccupied with marrying the Demon of Eden to give it all up so easily. And he would not have been at all surprised to discover if she had made an appearance in Gaithlin’s doorway to demand vengeance.
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