The Du Lac Devil: Book 2 of The Du Lac Chronicles

by Mary Yarde

  When she opened her eyes again, it was over. Budic was slumped on her, his body weight pressing her down so she had a job to breathe. She pushed at his chest, and he moved his weight off her, and she drew in a much-needed shaky breath.

  “Thank you,” he mumbled softly, and she turned her head to look at him. “I think I might be in love with you, Josephine.”

  She didn’t want to think past this moment. She did not want to spoil what they had just shared with grand declarations that neither of them truly meant. But still, a smile pulled at her lips because of his words.

  Josephine could not remember what it felt like to be happy, but for a moment, she allowed herself to bask in the afterglow of paradise. She closed her eyes again and savoured the feeling, however brief it may be, of being wanted. She felt herself falling into a contented sleep, and she dared to dream of a future that was bright and sunny. She smiled to herself as she recalled a long lazy picnic on the beach, the water lapping gently at her toes as she stood on the shoreline and the sun embracing her in its warmth. She bit her lip to stop from giggling with pleasure. This was heaven to her. She just needed this beach and this day to last forever. The soft, warm touch of fingers on her face gently roused her, and she leant into them like a cat does when being petted. If she opened her eyes, she would see Merton looking down at her with love, and everything would be perfect.

  When she did open her eyes it wasn’t Merton who was looking at her, it was Budic. It was the King. Budic was the most powerful man in Brittany, and if he wanted to, he could make her his queen.

  A queen?

  Nothing had been further from her mind and now suddenly the possibility that she could rise in station, that she could finally have the respect that she deserved, was within her grasp. The Queen of Brittany. She liked the title. All she needed was for this union to bring about a baby, preferably a boy. It would be a boy, she told herself — she would wish it into being.

  “Was it good?” Budic whispered the question shakily against her ear as their heartbeats slowed and their breathing quietened. “Did I please you?”

  She could hear the uncertainty in his voice. He was a king; he should not need such assurances.

  “Yes, Sire,” Josephine purred back, and she stretched liked a contented feline. “It has never been like this with anyone but you.” Men liked to have their egos stroked. She had heard the maid’s talk about such a thing once when she was younger. She was sure the King appreciated her praise as much as any other man would. And it wasn’t like she was lying. It had been good. And he had pleased her.

  “Did I please you? Did I help you?” Josephine asked. She hoped she had brought him comfort. If she had, then maybe in the future he would come to see her as someone who was necessary to his happiness.

  “Yes. To both questions.” Budic whispered against her ear. “I am glad you enjoyed it,” he said, and Josephine realised with dismay that he had had what he wanted from her, and it was time for her to leave and pretend that this stolen moment in time had never happened. Queen of Brittany, who was she trying to fool? She made to move, but he prevented her.

  “Sire?” she questioned.

  “Would you have any objections if I took you to bed and we did it again and again and again.”

  Josephine smiled in relief and let out a breath she did not realise she was holding. The prize was suddenly in her grasp again. “I would have no objection, Sire,” she smiled.

  “Don’t call me that,” Budic spoke tenderly. “Don’t call me Sire.”

  Tenderness wasn’t something she had ever associated with Budic. He had never shown this side to her before. No wonder Anna had loved him so, despite his many faults. If he had spoken to her like this when she was a little girl, Josephine suspected that she would have followed him around like a puppy.

  “Not when we are like this. When we are like this, it is I that is subservient.” He slowly moved away from her, and she felt his loss and gave a little cry of disappointment, which was stifled by his mouth as he kissed her again. He picked her up as if she weighed nothing and carried her to the bed and after that, there was no time to think of anything else. This time, when he made love to her, she kept her eyes open. She was in the bed of the King, and she was determined to stay there.

  17

  Josephine awoke to the sound of thunder. She jumped and felt the reassuring squeeze of Budic’s arm as he pulled her tighter against his naked body. She shifted slightly and felt discomfort between her thighs — a testament to her night with the King. It hurt, but she smiled to herself despite the pain. The pain she experienced now was a small price to pay for the riches she would receive later.

  “I need to go,” she whispered in the darkness, reluctantly. “It is almost dawn.”

  Budic groaned a sleepy protest, but he did nothing to stop her from rising. If she wanted to be queen, it would not do for the people to know that she was his mistress. She would have a lifetime of waking up beside him, and she would not let anything jeopardise her future — not now. Just, please God, let there be a child and let that child be a boy.

  She dressed quickly, for the room was cold. Another crash of thunder made her jump yet again, and she could hear the hard pattering of the rain as it hit the castle walls. The weather was unseasonable, to say the least. She could not recall the last time a summer had been so wet. She suddenly realised she should be concerned for the harvest and what that would mean for the people. Oh my God, one day they were going to be her people, she would be their queen. She stifled a giggle. It was about time she paid the peasantry more attention. They would love her, more so than they did Anna. She would make sure of it.

  She leant over Budic and kissed him softly on the mouth, but he did not stir, he was lost in a deep contented sleep of the utterly exhausted. She gently ran her finger down the length of his cheek. He was so beautiful, in sleep the harshness was gone from his face. He looked like a different man.

  She opened the door to his chamber, wincing as the hinges groaned as if in protest at her leaving. She didn’t want to leave. She wanted to awaken with Budic looking down at her with love. But that was for another day.

  Outside the chamber were two armed guards. Budic was always protected wherever he was, even if he was safely behind the walls of Benwick. The guards did not remark on her presence. They did not even look at her. It was as if she were a ghost. She felt strangely disappointed and then she thought that maybe women creeping out of the King’s Chamber in the middle of the night was a common occurrence. One thing was for certain; that would all end when she was queen.

  She walked swiftly away from the chamber, although her footsteps slowed as she neared Merton’s room. If you had the choice between Merton and Budic, who would you choose? The voice in her head mocked her, chanting Merton’s name over and over again. “Budic,” she answered aloud, and the voice thankfully fell silent. She would not allow Merton to intrude on what she had just found in the arms of his brother.

  Smiling, she sped up again, until she was skipping like a giddy child down the corridor towards her chamber. For the first time in years, her heart felt light. She spun quickly around and around, her dress billowing up around her and giggling, she collapsed against the wall. She had never felt more alive than at this moment.

  By the time she reached her chamber door, her heart was pounding in her chest, reminding her that what had just transpired had happened, and at last, she had a future. She glanced back along the corridor, but apart from the guards, it was deserted. Smiling to herself, she opened the door to her chamber and stepped inside.

  “Where have you been?”

  Josephine’s heart leapt in her chest, but she was glad that outwardly she showed no signs of surprise or worse still, annoyance. She shut the door softly and turned to look at Philippe in the candlelight. He was still wearing the clothes she had seen him in yesterday, and there were lines of worry about his mouth. Dear Philippe. Where would she be without him? But strangely, she did not feel ashamed of
what she had just done. She would favour him when she became queen. She would grant him lands. He would have a big estate, a title, and she would find him a wife — a young, wealthy heiress. He would forgive her for her betrayal — he would have to, seeing as she would be his queen.

  “I was with the King.” She wasn’t lying, she was.

  Philippe, who had been sat on the bed, rose swiftly and grabbed hold of her arm. He leant forward and sniffed her. She leant away from him, who did he think he was? She wasn’t some common street woman.

  “You smell of sex,” he said in disgust. He had never spoken to her in such a tone before, and she was close enough now to see an anger raging fiercely in his eyes.

  Josephine shrugged his arm away, but he caught her again. “How dare you?” she stated, her voice low, indignant, angry. She hoped Philippe would mistake the red hue of embarrassment on her cheeks as rage.

  “You have shared his bed, do not lie to me.” Philippe could hardly get the words out. The thought of Budic touching her — it made his skin crawl. It made him want to commit murder. She was his and only his.

  “I have been in his bed, yes,” she stated, this time ripping herself away from him and taking two steps back.

  “You admit it?” He could hardly believe it.

  “I admit to holding our King while he sobbed like a baby. Eventually, he cried himself to sleep. He has no one else Philippe, no wife, and no heir. I felt sorry for him as any compassionate woman would.” What an accomplished liar she had become. She congratulated herself, for she almost believed her own words. But the ache of her body reminded her that she did far more than hold Budic throughout the night.

  Philippe had the grace to look ashamed. “I am sorry. I jumped to conclusions. I don’t know what I was thinking. I know you don’t like him. Please forgive me.” He held out his hands to her, and she willingly took them in her own.

  “Of course I forgive you,” she smiled sweetly. Yes, the people would love her. She would be forgiving and kind. They would come to her with their troubles, and she would make it all better for them. She would be…adored.

  “Josephine, I wish you did not feel so obligated towards him. He does not deserve your devotion.” Philippe tugged her gently into his embrace. “I was afraid he would make you do something you would not want to. He is heartless towards his mistresses. He uses them and discards them. He treats his women as if they are toys to be played with. And being the spoilt child that he is, he soon loses interest. No woman can hold his attention for long.”

  Josephine laid her head against Philippe’s chest so he did not see the frown on her face. Budic would not use her and he certainly would not discard her. She would not allow that.

  “Stay away from him, promise me you will,” Philippe said and when she did not answer he loosened his hold and stepped away from her.

  She watched as he paced to the far side of the room. Her chamber was not very big, the bed took up most of the space, and the room was cold, despite the small fire that Philippe had kept burning throughout the night. She watched as he took a straw spill and began to light more candles. She wanted to protest, for candles were very expensive, although that was only part of the reason why she hardly ever used them.

  As a child, she had not had the luxury of a candle to light her way in the dark. Instead, she had to rely on rushlights. It was as if she was not worthy of a candle. Once, Merton had given her a candle, but she had been too afraid to light it in case someone accused her of stealing it. She had slept with the darn thing under her pillow for the whole of the winter.

  Somewhere ingrained in her heart was the knowledge that she did not deserve such luxuries — what did the drunk’s daughter need a candle for anyway? But her position had changed now. She could have as many candles as she bloody well wanted. And those who dared to look down their noses at her…she would forgive them, for that is what queens did. But if they ever said anything more about her heritage and her past, she would make sure they rued the day they were ever born.

  As for that candle Merton had given her, she still had it, hidden in the chest at the foot of the bed, amongst her clothes. A token of what they once had together. She should have lit that candle and watched as it melted into nothing, just like their long friendship had. But for some reason, she could not bring herself to do it. Merton had broken her heart, but he had been an important part of her childhood. He had been the only one there for her when she had nobody. And although she told herself that she hated him now, she could not hate the joy that he had once brought her.

  “Josephine, there is something I need to tell you,” Philippe said as he turned to look at her. He looked suddenly sheepish in the candlelight as if he had been up to no good. She dismissed such a thought immediately. Philippe was everything that was good and true. There wasn’t a bad bone in his body — unlike some, she could name.

  “You know how much I love you — don’t you? And you know that when the time is right, I will make you my wife.”

  For a moment, Josephine didn’t say anything. He had never asked her to marry him before. They had never even discussed it. If he had said this yesterday, then she would have flung herself across the room and thrown herself into his arms. But so much had happened in the last few hours. Budic had happened.

  “You have never asked me to be your wife,” she managed to say, while trying to refrain from berating him at his appalling timing. “I thought-”

  “I assumed you knew,” Philippe interrupted, and there was a touch of annoyance in his voice. “What did you think I meant when I told you that I loved you?”

  Josephine sat down on the bed, shocked. “I thought…”

  Philippe sat down next to her and took her hands in his. “Before we can marry, my love, I need a favour-”

  “Have you asked Budic for my hand? He is still my guardian.” Her words were hurried, and she felt like she was going to be sick. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not after last night. Why could Philippe not have kept his big mouth shut? This was going to make telling him about the coming nuptials between herself and Budic all the more difficult.

  “I have,” Philippe said quietly. “I asked him not long after Marcus died. I have loved you for so long.” He raised her hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles passionately. “It has always been you. From the very moment I first saw you-”

  “Marcus has been gone these past six months. Why have you not asked me before? We could have been married all this time. I may have even been carrying a child by now.” Philippe knew how much she longed for another baby. And then another thought occurred to her — Budic must have been laughing at her. He had no intention of marrying her. It had probably never even crossed his mind to make her his queen. Stupid, stupid, girl. Budic had not even hinted that he was going to ask her to marry him, now she came to think about it. She had just assumed. And anyway, why would he want to marry her? She was nothing, and he had already found her a groom. Could she be any more gullible?

  “It is not as simple as that. Budic said “no,” my love. He does not approve of the match. But,” he held his finger to her lips, as she was about to speak. “It soon will not matter if we have his approval or not.”

  Budic had said no? He had said no because he wanted her for himself. She felt a lightness in her heart again, and she wondered if it were possible to die from happiness. He would not use her and cast her aside. She should have had more faith in him.

  “My love, I need you to listen carefully. What I am about to tell you, you must not tell anyone else.”

  She wanted to go to Budic now, wake him up, and make love to him even though her body still ached. She wanted to be close to him. She wanted him to reassure her.

  “Are you listening to me?” Philippe asked.

  She bit her lip to stop herself from smiling. “Of course,” she stated.

  “I am going to take his throne,” Philippe spoke so quietly that at first she thought she had misheard him.

  “What did you
say?” she asked.

  “I am going to take his throne. I am going to crown myself King of Brittany.”

  Josephine’s immediate reaction was to laugh, what a ridiculous thing to say. “You are joking, right? It is impossible.”

  “Benwick Castle can only be breached from the inside. You know that don’t you, Josephine?” he smiled slyly, it was a look that she had never seen on his face before, and it unnerved her. “I am inside, my love, and I will have his crown.”

  “You are serious aren’t you?” Josephine said, rising to her feet. “Philippe you can’t, he will kill you. A traitor’s death is the worst type of death. You will be lashed a thousand times, and tied to the rock on the beach and the birds will fly down and peck out your eyes, and you will beg the tide to rise so that it will drown you. You must not even think such things, let alone say them.” She knelt down beside him and took his hands in hers, genuinely concerned for his welfare. “Promise me you will not be so foolish. You cannot take his throne. The people love their King…they will not allow it.”

  Philippe extracted his hands and shook his head. “What is the matter with you? When did you start becoming Budic’s champion?” he asked. “His people loathe him. He is a tyrant. They would welcome me. The people love me. They love me, Josephine. You know they do. You have seen how they flock around me. You see how it is in court. The nobles come to me before they go to the King. I am the power behind his throne, and I know I will be a better monarch than what he is.”

  She shook her head in denial. “You are popular, I cannot deny that, but it would not be just the support of those at court that you would need. You would need to convince the army as well, and I cannot see you doing that.”