She looked in his eyes and knew that was true. Whether it took coin or a dagger, he would do it for her. The horrible images of the last day receded. The brilliance of his love and care burned away the fog of melancholy that had thickened with Morvan"s departure.
"Where is Sieg? Isn"t he returning with us?"
"He decided to join this war. It is his nature to enjoy such things."
"But he has gone to your father first, hasn"t he? You sent him to return the doc.u.ments, didn"t you? Your mother"s picture was missing from the book in your study. You sent that too. So he would know who you really are and why you did it."
That surprised him. His smile showed amazement. And admiration. "You are becoming dangerously clever, darling."
"So how long do you think that we have?"
"I will be in England. He cannot harm me there."
"Of course he can, but that is not what I meant. How long do you think the Comte will live? How long before Senlis is yours?"
Not just surprise this time. Astonishment. That in turn astonished her. He had not considered this possibility. He truly had not foreseen how this would end.
"He is a n.o.bleman, David, and the last of an ancient line. In this one thing I know him better than you. He does not want the line to die out and the lands returned to the crown. Such men will do anything to a.s.sure they have an heir. Despite what you did, he will not forget that you are all he has left once he learns the truth."
He stood very still while he absorbed that.
"So how long do you think we have?"
"He is about fifty-five. If you are right, and I think that you misjudge him, it should be a long while before I face that choice again."
He said it lightly, but she felt a change in him. She sensed his mind and emotions begin to churn. She knew him very well now, and easily recognized the quiet drama that his soul controlled and contained. He had seen that she was right, and that Senlis could one day be his after all. He had begun waiting again. He was good at waiting.
She reached up to caress his face. "I love our life, and I am not sorry that it will probably be a long while. And I love you. I thank G.o.d for our love, David. There is beauty and goodness in it, and in you, always waiting for me."
"Whatever goodness you see in me is merely a reflection of yourself, my girl. You make me better than I was ever born to be."
"That is not true. For a man who sees so clearly, there are parts of yourself that you do not know very well."
"Parts I would have never known if you had not touched them."
She began to object. The intensity in his expression stopped her. Maybe he was right. Hadn"t his love taught her things about herself that she might have never learned without him?
Two men carting a bed jostled by. The din on the docks intruded.
"Maybe love is all that stands against what we have seen here in Caen," she said. "That is sad."
He shook his head. "I understand the darkness in men like your innocence never will, Christiana, and the acts of war are the least of it. Trust me when I say that love is a formidable foe. Perhaps the only foe."
For a moment his gaze revealed his soul like it had the night of their reunion, and it was all there. The shadows that he spoke of, and the power of love to contain them. Aye, Morvan had been right. There was goodness in him, but other things too.
"Then let us love each other as well as we can, David. Let us build a life full of hope and light that never dims, no matter what the world brings us. I want our love to be the hearth at the center of our home, wherever it is, burning hotly forever. I never want to look back on what we shared here and wonder if it was an illusion that we embraced in our desperation."
"It was no illusion. You owned my heart long before I found you here, and it is yours forever. Our love is as real as the arms embracing you, and always will be. I am not a man who loses hold on something precious once it is in his possession."
He kissed her, his mouth lingering and claiming, a welcome reminder of the pa.s.sion they had found. He held her so closely that they molded as one and made an image of love amidst the greed swarming the docks.
He turned her under his arm. "Let us leave this place now. Let us go home."
A few men had paused their hauling to watch the lovers. She met their eyes frankly, and hoped that the display had reminded them about the true value of things.
"Aye, David, let us go home. Take me back to our garden and our bed."
They walked down the pier side by side, with no prize in their arms except each other. About the Author MADELINE HUNTER has worked as a grocery clerk, office employee, art dealer, and freelance writer. She holds a Ph.D. in art history, which she currently teaches at an eastern university. She lives in Pennsylvania with her husband, her two teenage sons, a chubby, adorable mutt, and a black cat with a major att.i.tude. She can be contacted through her web site, www.MadelineHunter.com, where readers can also find more information regarding the historical events and characters used in this novel.
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