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

by Mary Yarde

  He too looked down at their joined hands, and he felt a rush of fear freeze his heart. If Wann had not been there, things would have been so different. He tried to block the image from his mind. She was in his arms, and she was safe. He must not linger on what might have happened.

  She tugged on his hand, and he understood the silent message in her plea. Slowly he lay down next to her, on top of the blankets and she immediately curled up in his arms. He let her, stroking her hair softly.

  Her thoughts drifted to Garren, and she felt a keen sense of betrayal and then she thought of Bastian’s words. Merton had said they were lies, but what if they weren’t? She had been so young, and so naive as to the way of things.

  She wished she could remember the sound of Garren’s voice. It was there, hidden in the back of her mind, just out of reach. Even what he looked like was fading. She could no longer remember the precise colour of his eyes.

  She didn’t want to forget.

  Initially, she had thought that was why she had been drawn to Merton because he and Garren had resembled each other. But she couldn’t see anything of Garren in him now. Her feelings for Merton were not a passing fancy. They were very real, and at the same time, very frightening.

  “I want to come with you,” she whispered, as she listened to the pounding of his heart.

  She opened her eyes. Merton was looking at her with such concern as if she was the most important person in the world. Garren had never looked at her the way Merton did now.

  He reached up and dabbed her tears with the pad of his thumb, and he smiled at her, but she saw his tears were gathering as well.

  “I am so sorry,” he said, burying his face in her hair, for he could not bring himself to look into her eyes a moment longer. It was his fault she was like this. Bloody Budic. King or not, he should have said no to his ridiculous plans. “I never meant for this to happen.”

  She wrapped her arms around him. “It wasn’t your fault,” she whispered back.

  It was. Of course, it was. Merton held her tighter, and she welcomed his embrace. He raised his head and smoothed her hair away from her face and then he kissed her lingeringly on the forehead.

  “Please don’t leave me here. I want to be where you are,” Amandine begged.

  “Only death would make me leave you behind,” Merton promised, kissing her forehead again. She tilted her head so her lips were as close to his as they could be without actually touching. She felt his unsteady breath, but instead of kissing her as she longed for him to do, he moved, tucking her head on his shoulder and wrapping his arms around her.

  “Why won’t you kiss me? Is there something wrong with me?” she whispered, feeling his rebuke like a crushing blow to the chest. She needed him. She needed…

  “Amandine,” he laughed softly, the sound ringing with self-mockery “No, there is nothing wrong with you. I can’t…if I were to kiss you now…I wouldn’t be able to stop.”

  “Jenison wasn’t going to stop,” she recalled with a violent shiver. “Merton, I begged him to.”

  “Amandine, I didn’t mean that I would force you,” he said, alarmed. “I would never force you. I would rather die than hurt you. I am not very good with words, they came out wrong, forgive me.”

  “I don’t know anyone better with words than you.”

  “You make me nervous,” he admitted. “No one has ever made me feel nervous before.”

  “I doubt that,” Amandine answered. No one could make Merton nervous, especially not a woman.

  “You don’t understand. I am scared of saying the wrong thing, of doing the wrong thing. I want you to like me. I’ve never wanted anything more. And I am scared that if I kiss you, you will be thinking of him,” Merton paused and took a deep breath.

  “Jenison will be the last thing on my mind. I can assure you.”

  “But you will be thinking of Garren, and I don’t think my heart could take that. I want you to be sure, of me. To want me and not him.”

  “I am sure of you,” she whispered, and she felt, and heard his breath catch. “I am surer of you than anyone else in the world, and I know you would not force me. It wouldn’t be force.”

  “You want me to love you?” he questioned, shifting so he could look into her face.

  “Yes,” she answered, for she had never been loved. She and Garren had been waiting to be together like that, for she was very young when they had first married, and Garren had been very patient. She had thought Garren so saintly for waiting for her to be older, waiting for her to be ready. She had loved him for that. But maybe, the joke was on her. Maybe Garren had not minded the wait because he was getting what he wanted from elsewhere. They had never consummated their marriage and whether it was luck or just circumstances in her subsequent marriages, she was still a virgin. She didn’t know what it was like to be loved. She wanted it to be him. She needed it to be him. Tonight. More than anything she needed him tonight. There was more to making love then what Jenison had planned to show her. It wasn’t supposed to be about force. She had watched other couples, over the years, and seen the way their eyes lit up when they caught sight of each other across the room. She had watched with longing as they secretly smiled at each other, the way only lovers do. Merton could show her what it was like between a man and a woman. She could trust him to show her.

  Her heart rate picked up when she saw the way the pupils of his eyes seemed to darken, become larger. He was breathing heavier now, and he was studying her face as if he was trying to commit it to memory. The very air around them felt charged, as it did just before a massive thunderstorm. She felt her breath catch in her throat.

  Merton groaned loudly and closed his eyes. She dared not take her eyes away from his face. If she were courageous, or more experienced, she would bridge the distance between them. She would kiss him. Unfortunately, she was fresh out of courage and with no experience she was bound to do it wrong.

  When he opened his eyes, she saw humour there, mixed with desire.

  He took her hand and played with her fingers. His touch sent her heart rate soaring, and her breathing became more laboured, dear God, she was almost panting.

  “Where are you going?” she questioned, holding onto his hand tighter and pulling him back down as he made to rise.

  “I need to get a maid, so we don’t forget ourselves,” he stated.

  “You could get my husband if it makes you feel better,” she snapped back. How could Merton do this to her? Could he not see how much she wanted it to be him?

  She heard his sharp intake of breath and immediately regretted her words and her anger. Gently he pushed her off him and sat up.

  “Merton. I am sorry. I didn’t mean-”

  He touched her mouth with his fingers again, silencing her. “One day you will be my wife, of that I am certain. And on that day I will make love to you. And I swear that on that day, I will love you so slowly and so perfectly, that you will cry afterwards with pleasure because you have never been touched that way before. Amandine, I do not have much left of a soul, but what I do have, I give to you.” He traced the edge of her cheek with his thumb.

  “I rush in, and I don’t always think about the consequences, you know that,” Merton continued. “I don’t want to do that with you. I want it all to be perfect. And if we made love, right now, it wouldn’t be perfect.” She went to argue but with a small shake of his head, he silenced her. “It would be good, but it wouldn’t be perfect. My love, you were assaulted tonight, and you need to recover from that. Making love to me will not change what he did.”

  “It is in your power to stop me from thinking about it,” Amandine argued.

  “I don’t want to make love to you to make you forget another. Amandine, you would be using me, and I can’t have that.”

  “I wouldn’t be using you.”

  “When I make love to you,” he continued. “I want to know that you are mine and that I do not have to give you back. It is killing me knowing you have a husband who is not me.�
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  “Merton-”

  “Let me finish,” he pleaded. When she remained silent, he continued. “I also want to be able to hold you all night long and wake with you in the morning. I cannot do that tonight.” He sighed. “I have made a lot of mistakes in my life. I am not going to make any more mistakes with you. You mean the world to me.”

  “I do?” she breathed the question.

  “You mean everything. Everything,” he emphasised. “I want to marry you. I thought after Adèl…” he paused to take a breath. “Our marriage was such a disaster. I never thought I would want to marry another again. But I have fallen for you — there are no two ways about it — I have fallen head over heels in love with you.”

  She gasped at his words.

  “I should not have pursued this thing between us. I know that. I have nothing to offer you. I am more of a danger to you than Jenison. If you had any sense, you would run from me.”

  “Don’t compare yourself to him. You are not a monster,” Amandine said.

  “There are many who would disagree with you on that.”

  “Then they are wrong. Merton, when Garren didn’t come home, it felt like the sun had stopped shining and I was cloaked in a thick fog that was not only blinding me, but choking me as well. I loved him, and we were going to have a life together. When he…died…I died too.”

  “I understand,” Merton said, looking away from her. He had been an idiot to think she could care for him as she had cared for his brother.

  “No, you don’t. I didn’t think I would ever get over him. But when I was…when I am,” she corrected herself, “in your company, sunlight finds its way in through the fog. Somehow, despite everything, you make me laugh. Your presence lessens my despair. For those brief moments when you are near me, I feel alive once more.”

  “Amandine,” he sucked in a breath at her words, overcome by what she was saying.

  “You are my sunrise and my sunset,” Amandine said shyly. “When I am with you, the fog clears. Merton, I don’t want to be in the fog anymore. I want to be with you in the light.”

  He looked at her then and shook his head with a smile. “You are going to be the death of me, woman,” he groaned, but the look on his face told her he would welcome such a death. He lay back down, and she snuggled back into his arms.

  “I’m in love with you too,” she whispered. “I think I have been since last you were here.”

  There was a moment of silence, while her words seemed to echo around them and then she felt him shrug.

  “Why wouldn’t you be? I’m amazing,” he jested, and she gave into that smile he had been trying so desperately to achieve since he found her curled up against that tree.

  She punched him gently with her fist and heard his answering laugh.

  “Try and sleep. We’ve got a long night ahead of us.”

  “You won’t leave me?”

  “How can I leave you? You’ve stolen my heart. I may need it now and then.”

  “My romantic warrior,” she said, smiling softly.

  “Please don’t say that out loud. I have a fearsome reputation to protect,” he answered.

  She giggled. “I wouldn’t want to be the one to destroy your fearsome reputation.”

  “I shall have to do something barbaric when we get out of here. I can’t be compared to a sunset.”

  “Your barbarian days are over.”

  “And why is that?” Merton asked, kissing her softly on the head as he did so.

  “Because you’ve got me now,” she whispered. Her eyes suddenly felt very heavy as exhaustion caught up with her. “You don’t need to fight anymore.”

  “I have always been a warrior, Amandine. I don’t think I can be anything else,” he spoke honestly. “I don’t know how to be…” He sighed deeply. “But for you, I promise, I will try.”

  “I know you will,” she answered as she closed her eyes, content in the knowledge that no harm would come to her when she was in Merton’s arms.

  35

  Alden pulled at the rope with all his might. The rope, which not only bound his hands together but was also attached to the wall, wasn’t budging, and it certainly showed no signs of breaking. His wrists were scraped raw and bleeding from his struggles. He had tried to bite through the rough textured rope, but it was too bloody thick, all he had managed to do was hurt his teeth.

  “For God’s sake man, sit down and rest,” Budic commanded from a dark corner of the cell. “You have no idea what Philippe has in store for us.”

  “Says the man who has never been tortured,” Alden took a deep breath and tried again. “If you had,” he pulled at the rope desperately, gritting his teeth as he did so against the pain, “you would be doing everything in your power to get out of here as well.”

  “The way you speak, anyone would think you were the only one who has ever suffered. I know what torture is. I lost my eye, remember?” Budic’s voice came out harsh and full of impatience. “Sit down.”

  “You drove Josse to do what he did. He was a good man before you corrupted him. If I had been him…” Alden tugged at the rope again. “I would have taken more than your bloody eye.”

  “You have no idea what you are talking about. You did not know Josse as I did. He was a drunk.”

  “He was after you accused his wife of witchcraft.”

  “That’s a lie. I never accused her of being a witch.”

  “Did you not?” Alden asked with quiet disbelief. “But yet, you stood back and did nothing when the Church ordered her to be bound and forced under the water.”

  “That was an unfortunate incident that I had no way of foreseeing, and besides, the Church had spoken, I could not go against them. It was the Church that accused her of being a witch, not I.”

  “And what about Josse’s first wife? Did the Church condemn her to death too?”

  “Josse drove her to despair,” Budic answered. “You can’t put her death on me as well.”

  “You drove her to despair because you did not understand the word no. You hated the fact that she loved him.”

  “You don’t know anything. You were still a child,” Budic snapped back.

  “I was old enough to see how it was. After father died, you were all over her like a contagious rash. You thought that kingship meant you could have anything you wanted, and you set your sights on her, even though she was married and a mother.”

  “She threw herself at me. I was the one who had to resist her charms and remind her that she was my best friend’s wife. She jumped from the cliff. I didn’t push her. It wasn’t my fault.”

  “Nothing ever is your fault, is it Budic?” Alden instantly returned. He strained against the rope one more time, then with a frustrated roar, he fell onto his knees amongst the filth and the dirt of the dungeon floor. God knows the last time this place had been swept. Deprivation and despair seem to echo off the cold walls.

  “So why did you marry his daughter?”

  “I need an heir, and she is fertile and young. I can mould her. I will make her submissive and obedient. She will become everything that Anna was not. She will not question me, or try interfering with how I do things. She is a complete opposite of Anna and I believe she will make a good queen, given time.”

  “If it is obedience you want then you should have married a puppy.”

  “We can’t all have marriages like yours, can we,” Budic stated. “And besides, look what love has done to you. It has made you weak.”

  “It has made me strong,” Alden countered. “I don’t know how you can be so calm. Your wife is in enemy hands.”

  “Philippe won’t hurt her,” Budic stated. “He is in love with her and he does not know about our marriage.” Budic chuckled in the darkness.

  “Do you mind sharing what you find so funny?”

  “It’s just…” He chuckled again. “I certainly screwed her enough times. She is probably carrying my child as we speak. If I were to die and Philippe was to marry her, my heir will still si
t on the throne of Brittany one day.”

  “You have it all planned out, don’t you,” Alden mused with scorn.

  “She likes it hard, do you think Merton knows that?” Budic asked slyly.

  “Now we come to the truth of it. You don’t care for Josephine. You just wanted to get one up on Merton. It is all a game to you…isn’t it? You don’t give a damn about anyone, or anything. All you care about is yourself and then you wonder why the people have turned to Philippe? If he were here now, I would pledge my allegiance.”

  “Yes, well, you always were a coward. Always hiding behind Merton’s skirts. I am curious…what is it between the two of you? Do you grant each other favours when you are alone?”

  “You are sick in the mind, and I am done with this conversation,” Alden replied.

  “That is it, isn’t it?” Budic said with an ill intent glee. “You and he,” he made a lewd whistling sound. “Did you corrupt his soul when you were children? You were always sharing each other’s beds. Is that why he is what he is?”

  Maybe this was Philippe’s idea of torture; any longer in Budic’s company and he would be forced to wrap the rope around his own neck. Alden called upon all his diplomatic skills and willed himself not to be baited into an argument he would never win. Budic always liked the last word. Alden had learnt that long ago. “One day Budic, you will answer to God,” he said, hoping that would close the conversation.

  Budic snorted dismissively. “There are many men who have to answer to him. Yourself included. I wonder what you will do when you find out Merton is in hell.”

  “Merton isn’t dead.”

  “Merton isn’t dead…yet,” Budic corrected. “But like us…he soon will be.”

  Alden leant his head back against the wall, closed his eyes, and tried not to let despair into his soul. Merton would come for him. He would get them out of here. He knew he would.