A DECISION AND A WARNING
Sean stood back for Marguerite as she went out into the hallway. He stared at her, his heart racing. He felt almost unable to breathe. He couldn't quite believe it.
Sean, stop being silly. You still don't know what she thinks, what her plans are...why do you trust her?
He couldn't help feeling like suddenly the sun had come out in his heart. He bit back a grin, thinking about her frosty, angry retort. She really felt something for him!
They walked out together into the hallway. The air flowing through the doors into the courtyard was cool and refreshing, rain-damp and wild-scented. Sean breathed it in and tried to calm his rapidly-beating heart.
“Sean, I'm sorry,” Marguerite said.
She looked so contrite that Sean felt his heart melt. She chewed her lip and he had to grit his teeth not to cover it with kisses. “Sorry?” he said gently. “Marguerite! Why are you sorry?”
She really was very close here, so close that he could smell her and see the highlights in her hair. He swallowed hard, struggling to control himself.
She shook her head. “I shouted at you. I shouldn't have.”
He laughed. “Marguerite! I'm glad you shouted at me!” He shook his head, unable to contain his delight. “If you hadn't, I wouldn't know...” He shook his head.
She frowned. “You wouldn't know?”
“I wouldn't know you cared,” he said.
She stared at him. “Oh, Sean,” she murmured.
Then, to his utter astonishment, she reached up and, very gently, rested a hand on his arm. It was only there for an instant, but he gasped in surprise, his whole body tensing so that he wouldn't make a move, wouldn't scare her away. “Marguerite,” he breathed.
“I'm sorry,” she whispered. Then, to his horror, she covered her face in her hands and started crying.
“No,” Sean said gently. “Marguerite. Why are you crying? Please don't cry...” He didn't think about it, but he reached out and enfolded her in his arms. She tensed, then leaned against his chest and sobbed.
“Sorry,” she murmured. “I just can't believe you thought that. Of course I care.”
Sean held her close, and felt as if his heart melted as he stroked her hair. She was sobbing and he could feel the tears soaking his shoulder, wetting his shirt. He held her and rocked back and forth, feeling her sweet softness against his lean, hard chest.
After a moment, her sobs slowed. She stopped and looked up at his face. Then she reached up and rested a hand on his cheek. Sean looked into her eyes. He felt like time had stopped.
Gently, he turned and lifted her hand – it was pale and smooth and he could feel the pulsing of her blood just under the skin. He lifted her soft, fragrant hand to his lips and kissed it. The skin was like petals. He felt his heart thump wildly.
When he opened his eyes, her hand in his, she was looking up at him. Her brown eyes were like pools of endless depth. He felt as if he could fall into them and drown. His body tensed and he felt like if the world ended just then, with her eyes locked on his, he would not notice.
“I'm sorry,” he murmured. “I just didn't think anyone would care. After her...”
“Her?” She frowned, her pale eyebrows wrinkling.
Sean shook his head. “I shouldn't tell you. It doesn't really matter. Not anymore.”
“It does,” she whispered.
“No, it doesn't.”
“Yes, it does,” she smiled, teasingly. “Tell me.”
“Maybe one day,” he said softly. “Now, all that matters is that I am here with you. And we know that we care.”
She let out a small, soft sigh. “Yes,” she murmured. “Yes.”
He leaned in and his lips met hers again, soft and moist and clinging. He gently inserted his tongue between them. He shivered and she moaned and pressed her soft body to his. Their kiss was filled with tenderness and discovery. He felt as if the boundaries of his world had melted and reformed in that kiss. When he leaned back, he was sighing.
Her eyes were half-open, lips parted.
“I shouldn't,” she said. Her voice was small and tight. She looked away. Fresh tears trembled on her lids.
Sean felt his heart tie in knots. “I know,” he said softly. “You're betrothed.” He couldn't help it that his voice was tight in his throat, thready with bitterness. She stared at him.
“You think I wish to be?” she whispered. The look on her face was one of rank horror. He frowned.
“You mean...” He couldn't believe he hadn't even considered it might not be her choice. Now that the thought occurred to him, he couldn't fail to see it. Of course it was not!
She nodded. “I had no idea,” she whispered. “I found out two days ago.”
“Two days ago?” Sean stared at her. “How could they do that?”
“My father,” Marguerite said in that small, bitter tone. “I suppose I should be grateful he remembered I exist. I suspect he remembered it only when the king suggested soldiers will be richly rewarded with promotions. Sir Rodham is well-known in the guard.”
“I'm sure,” Sean said in a thin voice. He felt a stab of jealousy. He knew it was foolish, but hearing Marguerite give such praise to him – even if it was grudging, even if it was slight – still hurt.
“Sean!” Marguerite looked up at him wonderingly.
“What?” he said tightly.
“You're...Sean! You don't actually think I like the fellow, do you?”
He felt his eyebrows rise. “Why?”
“Sean!” She was laughing now. Her hand was still in his and he could feel the gentle shiver of her shoulders. It was exciting and lovely. “You should know I can't think of anyone else that way.”
“Oh?” He stared. His whole body went tense. “You mean...”
Her eyes rose to his. In them, for the first time, he saw the depth of feeling. In addition, he knew its meaning for what it was.
“Of course I can't,” she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Sean Invermarch – I'm in love with you.”
Sean closed his eyes. “I'm in love with you, too, Lady Marguerite. I think I always have been, from the moment I knew you.”
He leaned forward, his lips touching her hair. She sighed and her arms held him close. He wrapped his arms around her and drew her against him and then, without thinking about it, he kissed her. His lips traced over hers gently and, so gently, his tongue slid in between her lips. He closed his eyes. She lipped at his tongue slowly, hesitantly and it occurred to him that she had never been kissed this way before. He let his tongue gently explore her mouth, tasting and sensing.
She shivered and he drew her tight against him, feeling her breasts press against his chest. He was in heaven.
She tensed again and he stiffened. His loins ached. He moved back and looked down at her. She wasn't looking at him, though, but looking past him. He turned around.
A man was standing in the shadows. In that moment, Sean saw that he was looking straight at them. He shivered. Watchful and piercing, that gaze was clearly focused on them. He took a step forward. The man turned.
When he looked back at Marguerite, she had gone white. Sean felt a sudden flame of anger flare through him. How dare anyone make her afraid? He turned to advance on the guardsman who had watched them, but the man had gone.
“How dare he?” Sean exploded. “He had no right to spy that way. He's a guard and we are invited guests!”
Marguerite nodded. “He's a guard,” she said quietly.
Sean understood, then, what her fear was. “They're loyal to Sir Rodham?”
She nodded. “Yes. I fear so.”
His heart sank. Suddenly, he realized how foolish he had been. He had kissed the intended wife of the chief guardsman, in a house guarded by his loyal men. He might as well write his own death warrant and stick it up on the town-hall door. “I don't care,” he said lightly. “I would die a thousand times for another such kiss.”
Marguerite smiled at him, a gentle smile, almost maternal. “Oh, Sean,” she said sadly. She reached up and touched his face. “You shouldn't say that.”
“I am not just saying it,” he said rashly. “I mean it.”
Then he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her, pressing his lips to hers. This time, though she tensed at first, she leaned against him and her lips gently admitted his probing tongue. His whole body shivered and he pressed her against him, fevered and fervent as if he could make her body one with his. When he leaned back, he drew in a gasping breath.
“Marguerite,” he whispered. His hand took hers and held it, steadying himself. His whole body was pulsing with longing and need, and he felt that if he did not do something, didn't carry her into the castle and throw her on the bed, give all of himself, he would die. “I should go,” he whispered shakily.
Marguerite nodded. Her lips were parted. She smiled. “I should go, too,” she said. Her eyes shone and he realized with some surprise that she guessed his thoughts. He flushed red.
“Marguerite,” he whispered, “we cannot leave things as they are.”
She stared at him. “How can we do aught to change it?”
“I don't know,” he said rashly. “All I know is that we must.”
She nodded slowly. “I know. I cannot live without it.”
He nodded. “Nor can I,” he said shakily. He took her hand and squeezed it. “Promise me,” he said raggedly. “Promise you'll keep yourself safe?”
Marguerite nodded slowly. “I promise. You too?”
He smiled a sweet, sad smile. “Of course I will.”
They squeezed hands.
“Well, then,” she said.
He drew in a hard, tight breath, through a throat tense with emotion. “Well, then.” It was all he could manage to say.
He felt her fingers loosen on his. Very gently, he unclasped his own. She stepped away and he stepped back too. Walking back from her was the hardest thing he had done. He stepped away, his eyes locked on hers. Then she looked down at her hands, breaking the contact.
His heart heavy, Sean went back inside. He walked past the guard at the entrance, who stood back, raising his spear. He looked at him suspiciously, but there was no guile on the man's face. He walked into the room.
He scanned the hall, looking for Camden. He thought he saw Rodham at the back, but couldn't be sure. His heart ached. He wanted to finish him off, but knew he couldn't.
Whatever happened now, he knew that he had two things to do. First, he would do anything in his capacity to free Marguerite of a betrothal she detested. Then, he had to stay alive while he was doing it. He had to. He had promised her he would, as she had him.
It was a binding oath. His heart ached even as it soared with joy.