Garreth looked at her quickly. "Take Captain Barkley with you."
Sabine waited until the nurses carried the babies inside before she answered Garreth. "I don't need an escort," she said haughtily. "Are you afraid I might run away again?"
He was still reluctant to tell her about Eugenia's threats. "It had crossed my mind."
Sabine was glaring at him. "Whereas I might leave you, I would hardly leave my son and daughter."
His jaw settled in a stubborn line as he looked at her. "Nevertheless, you will take Captain Barkley with you."
She drew in an angry breath, but said nothing more. With her head high, she moved quickly toward the stable, thinking Garreth was still trying to punish her. He never allowed her to go out alone. Was he really concerned that she might leave?
Garreth watched her for a moment, then went inside and climbed the stairs to the nursery. The wet nurse smiled at him. "Her little ladyship won't go to sleep, Your Grace."
He peered at the child, who was rosy and healthy. "So it would seem."
"They are beautiful babies, Your Grace."
She held the child out to him, and he hesitated for only a moment before he took his daughter from her. He smiled down at the tiny girl who wriggled in his arms. "I believe she knows me."
"Of course she does, Your Grace. If you don't mind my saying so, your daughter does not eat like a lady, and can even eat more than her brother."
Garreth smiled at the little cherub face. For the first time, she smiled at him and his heart was so full he could not have spoken at that moment.
His son chose that moment to howl loudly. Garreth handed his daughter to the nurse and lifted the boy in his arms. When he held his daughter there was softness in his eyes, but when he held his son, pride ripped through him.
"So you thought your sister was getting all the attention and decided to protest, my son?"
The tiny Lord Blackthorn stopped crying at the sound of the deep voice, and looked right into his father's eyes. For just a fleeting instant, Garreth had the sensation that he was looking into Sabine's eyes, though he could not have said why. "They seem to grow more alert every day."
The nurse chuckled. "They are quite alert for only eight weeks old, Your Grace."
He placed his son back in the cradle and looked at each child before leaving the room.
The nurses and the servants were aware of his frequent trips to the nursery. For some reason he always came when the duchess was absent.
* * *
The night sky seemed on fire as jagged spears of lightning shattered the darkness. Sabine tossed on her bed in the thralls of a terrifying nightmare. She was reliving the night she had fled Woodbridge. She was running, running, trying to save Richard from death. "No," she moaned aloud, "NO, THEA!"
She sat up in bed, her heart pounding, her gown wet with perspiration. She took several steadying breaths, wishing she could rid her mind of the fear.
Suddenly a shaft of lightening struck with a force that rattled the windows and shook the ground. Without thinking she jumped out of bed and ran for the one pinnacle of safety—Garreth. She burst into his bedchamber to find him sitting in a chair with papers spread on his lap.
He came to his feet, seeing her stricken face.
"Sabine?"
"1—the—storm. I—"
He held out his arms, and she ran to him. His arms closed around her like a soft band of protection against anything that might harm her.
He could feel her tremble and sensed her fright. "Did you have a bad dream?"
She could only nod.
"I won't let anything, real or imaginary, harm you."
She nestled her head against his chest as the sound of the steady beat of his heart calmed her. She raised her head and looked into soft eyes.
"I feel ashamed. It—was like the night at Wood-bridge."
He lifted Sabine into his arms and carried her to his bed where he laid her down, then pulled the covers over her. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he took her hand in his. "You have no reason to feel ashamed, Sabine. You have more courage than ten men." He brushed a wayward curl from her face. "I'm glad you felt you could come to me."
She swallowed several times but could not speak, and he could see that her terror was real. "Do you want to sleep with me?" he asked.
She nodded.
He closed his curtains so she could not see the storm and blew out the candle before getting in bed beside her. Gently he pulled her into his arms. "Do you want to talk about it? We never have, you know."
"I often have the dream. It's like living that horrible night over and over."
He cradled her against him. "You spent the night in the flooded stream, with a broken leg, and yet you managed to keep your brother from drowning. I know of no one so brave, Sabine."
His praise warmed her. "I was not brave—I was frightened."
Garreth touched his lips to the pulse beat just below her ear. "You even faced me, Sabine, thinking I was the one responsible for the tragedy."
"I... know the truth now. But I am sometimes frightened, Garreth, knowing that I still have a faceless enemy."
He tensed. "What do you mean—what enemy?"
"The woman, whoever she is, that wanted me dead. I have tried to tell myself that she was only an imaginary danger invented by Thea's confused mind."
His arms tightened about her. "Don't think about it now." He tried not to think of the soft curves pressed against him. What Sabine needed was understanding, not his unbridled passion. "Suppose we speak of something pleasant, Sabine."
She raised her face to him, although it was dark and she could only see his outline. Dare she tell him what had been bothering her since the birth of the children? There would never be a better moment than now when he was gentle and understanding. "Garreth, I want to have my children christened by Father Santini as soon as possible."
She felt him tense. "My children will not to be brought up Catholic, Sabine. The difference in our religion has a new wrinkle, does it not? It reaches out for our children."
She had to make him understand how deeply she felt about the christening. "I implore you, Garreth, allow me to have them christened, and I will speak no more about this with you. I know no peace, fearing that my children may lose their immortal souls. -If you allow this one thing, I will ask nothing more of you."
"You ask much, Sabine."
Desperate words ached to be spoken, but she must keep calm. "Can you not guess how I feel about this matter, Garreth?"
He could. He still carried an image of her kneeling in the chapel in Paris. That day he had watched her without her knowing it, witnessing her devoutness as she had prayed. Finally he relented. "I shall allow the christening only if you have the priest come to Wolfeton Keep for the rite."
Sabine could hardly believe that he had agreed so easily. "I will send for Father Santini tomorrow. Thank you, Garreth."
He stroked her upper arm. "Would that all your wishes were so easily satisfied, Sabine. But mark this well, I only agreed to a christening. I will have no Catholic priest dwell within Wolfeton Keep."
Sabine knew this decision had been a difficult one for Garreth, and she would press him no further at this time. "It will be as you wish."
In gratitude, she moved forward and brushed her lips against his cheek, then pressed her face to his.
He took in a deep breath as the sweet smell of her dulled his mind. "Sabine, I brought you to my bed to render comfort, but if you continue what you are doing, I'll be more than a comfort to you," he warned.
Daringly, she turned her body to his, pressing her thighs against him.
His breath was hot against her lips. "Do you tempt me, or strive to make me mindless?" His arms went around her, and he positioned her tightly against him so she could feel him throbbing against her aching body. "Is this what you want of me?" he asked, his hands tangling in her hair as he brought her face to his.
"Yes," she answered breathlessly, offering her lips to him
.
"I want you, and you want me—beyond that I dare not question," he said.
There was only a groan from her as he rolled her over, parted her legs, and rising, slid into her, the hotness of him burning into her mind.
His mouth caressed hers, while his body mastered her trembling flesh. Murmuring her name, he rubbed his lips against her and then deepened the kiss with a bruising force. She sensed that he was trying to hold back, and she knew he feared he would hurt her.
"Garreth, I am healed from the births," she whispered.
With a painful intake of breath, he drove deeper, his hips moving against her in such a way that invited her movements. Her body was singing in perfect harmony with his, and she knew that something out of the ordinary was happening to them. This was beyond lust and body hunger—it was love—a need for possession and total surrender.
Garreth was unaware by what name he called her.
"La Flamme, now I possess you as you have possessed me. You are mine at last."
Her hands slid over the corded muscles of his back. And she was unaware that she answered him in French. "Oui." She looked deeply into his eyes. "Oui, I am yours."
With excitement raging through their bodies, they breathlessly rode the wave of passion, spiraling upward to a height obtained by so few. They moved together, breathed together, and at last, reached a quaking satisfaction together.
He held her tightly until her body ceased to tremble. "You will no longer sleep apart from me," he said in a soft voice.
"Never."
He pushed the soft curtain of her hair aside and lay his lips inches from her mouth. "You are mine."
"Yes."
There was no need for further words.
Garreth cradled her tenderly against his heart until she fell into a peaceful sleep. Long after she slept, he held her, amazed that she had surrendered so easily. There was still trouble between them, but tonight she had come willingly into his bed.
His lips touched her brow. "You will no longer have the nightmares. I shall keep them at bay."
She sighed in her sleep and curled tighter into his embrace.
Garreth did not attend the christening, but then Sabine had not expected it of him. Little Ryanne cried when Father Santini anointed her with water, but Thayne merely looked bored. Afterwards, Sabine felt a great weight lifted from her shoulders. At last, her children's immortal souls were not in danger. In her heart she thanked Garreth for his kindness in allowing it.
Sabine's life had settled into a familiar pattern. Garreth was away most of the day, and she was now confident enough to take over the duties as mistress of Wolfeton Keep. She was glad that her mother had trained her well. When she had doubts about anything, she followed her mother's example.
At night, Garreth would take her in his arms and she would welcome his touch. But after their bodies had been satisfied there was always a wall of silence between them. The tension was building, and uneasiness hung in the air. Something had to happen soon— they could not continue as they were for much longer.
Sabine's mornings were spent directing the housekeeping, inspecting the kitchens, and making menus for the coming week. In the afternoon she could always be found in the nursery with her children.
The weather was wonderfully pleasant as the mild days of spring held the hot days of summer at bay. Sabine was seated on the floor of the nursery, with Thayne on her lap. He laughed and gurgled at her, while tugging at a red curl. He squealed with delight when she held him above her head, singing an old French song.
Garreth stood in the doorway, observing the domestic scene. Sabine had been more than he'd expected in a wife. Under her watchful eye, his home ran smoothly, and she always found time to be with his children.
He came into the room and took his son from her.
"He grows stronger every day." He nodded to his sleeping daughter. "I believe she has our son as baffled as her mother has baffled her father."
Sabine's calm gaze met his. "You are mistaken. Our son has a strong mind; he is merely patient like his father and allows his sister the greater part of everyone's attention."
He looked at her in surprise. "A pretty compliment?"
"Your tolerance is what I admire most about you. Of course, there is a point when you reach the end of your patience, and anyone who would test you beyond that is a fool."
He laughed. "You have ofttimes tested me to the limit, Sabine."
She decided to change the subject. "Can you tell them apart? They look very alike."
"Of course. Thayne's hair is noticeably darker than Ryanne's, and he is slightly larger. While their features look identical to most people, I can distinguish them with no trouble."
Sabine was surprised that he knew them so well.
"If you will excuse me," she said, walking to the door, "1 will go below and see to your supper. I didn't expect you home until later."
"I have a surprise for you," he said, laying Thayne in his bed.
"Oh?"
He watched for her reaction as he spoke. "A courier arrived today from King Charles. He and Queen Henrietta will be arriving for a visit one week hence."
Sabine could only stare at him. "Their majesties are coming here?"
"Yes. And we are fortunate that we have time to prepare for them. The king seldom gives advance notice of his visits. Will this be a hardship for you?"
Sabine was already beginning to calculate in her mind the meals she would serve. "How many in the party, and how long will they reside with us?"
"There will be some seventy people, counting servants and lords and ladies of the Court. The message says that they will remain with us for two days. Do you feel you can play hostess to so large a gathering?"
"Yes, of course," she answered, feeling less sure than she sounded. "My mother trained me well for just such an occasion. You will have no reason to feel concern, Garreth."
"No," he said, his dark gaze softly sweeping her face. "You are quite capable in all things."
34
Sabine was busy from morning until night. The royal suite, where three previous kings of England had slept, was her first task. It was stripped to the bare furnishings, washed, polished, and shined. In a trunk, she found bed coverings that had been woven with the royal crest. These were cleaned and placed on the bed. Crushed flower petals were soaked in oil of mint sewn into small packets, and placed in hidden nooks to make the rooms smell sweet.
Everything was sparkling clean, and all the bedrooms made ready for the guests. Sabine opened the huge dining room, as well as the large salon. She talked to the head huntsman about arranging hawking for the ladies, knowing that Garreth would plan hunting parties for the gentlemen.
Extra women came from the village to help in the kitchen. Fruits and vegetables were gathered, fish and game prepared—grain was milled and baked into loaves of bread, blocks of cheese were prepared and butter was churned, ale, wine, and casks of brandy were stocked in the pantry, cattle were slaughtered and preserved in salt, pork and deer was roasting over the fire. Great pots of stew were bubbling over the fireplace, while capon and quail were stuffed to be baked to a golden brown.
Sabine had brought many of her mother's recipes with her, and she instructed the cook to bake French tarts stuffed with spices and nuts and covered with a sweet cream sauce.
Tomorrow, the king and his entourage would arrive, and Sabine had assured Garreth that everything would be in readiness, but had she forgotten anything? She went over in her mind everything her mother had taught her. She could think of nothing that had been left undone.
Wearily, she went up the stairs and into the nursery because she had not seen her son and daughter all day. Thayne was asleep, but Ryanne was kicking her feet and gurgling. Sabine lifted the child in her arms and sat in a chair by the window. The baby curled up, closed her eyes, and fell asleep. Sabine felt her own eyes drifting shut, and she soon fell into an exhausted sleep.
She awoke with a start to find Garreth standing over
her. He took Ryanne from her and laid the child in her cradle. He then lifted Sabine in his arms and carried her down the corridor.
"You have worked diligently to make my home shine, little mistress. It's time you rested."
Entering his bedchamber, he deftly undressed her and slipped her nightgown over her head. Then he lifted her into the bed and lay beside her, holding her with tenderness. She nestled her head against his shoulder, falling asleep. No nightmare would haunt her tonight.
* * *
Sabine had chosen carefully what she would wear for the meeting with the king and queen. Ysabel laced her into a dark green silk gown with frilly white underskirts. Her hair was pulled away from her face and fastened with emerald clasps.
A deafening noise broke the silence as the king's cavalcade rode over the wooden bridge into Wolfeton Keep.
Mrs. North hurried up the stairs, and was puffing to catch her breath when she knocked on Sabine's door. "Your Grace," she cried, her eyes bright with excitement, "his majesty has arrived!"
Sabine rushed from the room and down the stairs to join Garreth, who already stood on the steps, ready to receive their illustrious guests.
He gave her a warm smile. "Have no fear, his majesty will be the one who's nervous when he sees you."
Sabine hardly heard Garreth because the king was already before them. He looked older than she remembered. She knew of the difficulty he was having with Parliament and the insurrection involving the Scots— also, many of his own lords were rebelling against him. He looked haggard, and she found herself pitying him.
"Your Majesty," Garreth said, descending the steps to greet Charles Stuart. "We are honored by your visit."
King Charles laughed jovially. "It's been too long since I've been to Wolfeton Keep. As we rode through the woods, I saw game aplenty."
"Yes, Sire, this mild weather has made for good hunting. I believe you will not be disappointed."
"Gads, who is this lovely creature?" the king asked, moving up the steps.
La Flamme (Historical Romance) Page 28