Immediately, her betrothed rose at her side. “Sire, if you will allow me, I shall escort Lady Marie to her chamber.”
With a frown, her father studied her. “Marie, you have been quiet throughout the meal and eaten little. Are you ill?”
She forced a smile to her lips. “Non, Father. Merely tired, and I have little appetite.”
“ ’Twill take time to fully recover from your ordeal. Although,” the king said, his eyes dark with meaning, “I wonder if your sleeplessness may have more to do with your upcoming vows.”
Unsettled, she remained quiet.
Gaston gently took her arm. “Come.”
She cast a yearning look at Colyne and, with regret, allowed the duke to lead her from the great hall.
A series of torches secured in ornate sconces illuminated their path as they climbed the worn steps. “I, too, am concerned at your silence this eve,” he said as they reached the top and began to walk down the corridor toward her chamber.
Ahead of the duke, Marie spoke over her shoulder. “As I informed my father, I am tired.”
“I see.”
Mayhap, but she heard his doubts. Marie stopped at her door.
He took her hand, skimmed his thumb across her skin. “You are a beautiful woman.”
Uneasy, she withdrew her hand. “I bid thee good night,” she said, fighting to keep the panic from her voice.
Gaston leaned forward.
He was going to kiss her. A finger’s width apart, she turned away, and his mouth skimmed across her cheek.
On a heavy sigh, he caught her chin. “I know you believe you care for the Scot, but ’tis because he saved your life. With time, your feelings for the earl will fade.”
Marie didn’t reply, aching at the thought of living without Colyne, the cold emptiness of her life ahead. She would never stop loving him.
At her continued silence, Gaston’s gaze narrowed to dangerous slits, a crack in his well-polished veneer.
For the first time since they’d met, fear scraped through her that, if pushed, the duke would do her harm. “ ’Tis late and—”
“Listen well and heed my words,” he hissed. “ ’Tis me you shall wed. I will not tolerate any appearance of impropriety. Until he leaves, never again will you speak with the Scot.”
The pompous ass. She broke free. “How dare you talk to me with such disrespect? The king is my father and I shall—”
“Do naught.” He caught her jaw, his fingers digging into her soft flesh as he jerked her toward him. “Do you believe I am ignorant of the child you carry?” he scoffed. “You should be thankful that I care little about your unfaithfulness. Marriage to you will gain me access to the throne.”
Stunned, she stared at him, his words melding into one thought. The child she carried? She wasn’t . . . The lingering tiredness, her inability to eat much as of late, and her aversion to the smell of many foods, all of which she had attributed to her recent illness. With his accusation, the signs of her pregnancy were clear.
Her heart stumbled.
A child.
A life she and Colyne had created.
Emotion swept her at the thought of his babe in her arms, of blue eyes watching her with wonder as tiny fingers wrapped around her thumb with a smile. Colyne would be so excited to learn . ..
Colyne.
Regardless of the duke’s warning, he must be told they were going to have a child. And what of her father? Once he learned the news, mayhap he would end the betrothal?
Joy swept her at thought of a life with Colyne, the start of their family, of the years ahead and sharing their love.
