“Did you think I would not find out that the rebel’s seed grows within you?”
Gaston’s harsh words dragged her to the fore.
He stilled, realization dawning on his face. He released her with a cold laugh. “Strathcliff does not know, does he?”
“Non,” she whispered, her pulse racing as she rubbed her wrist where he’d held her. “My father—”
“Knows naught of the Scot’s spawn. As your betrothed, and with the king unavailable due to pressing matters, the physician informed me.”
She swallowed hard. This explained how the duke had learned of her condition.
“I assured him that I would pass the news to your father. But I chose to spare King Philip further shame.”
Hurt tore through her. “He would love my child!”
“Another bastard?” Eyes narrowed, he leaned closer. “Do you not understand the disgrace your father has endured since your birth? Have you never asked yourself why he has kept you sequestered on the coast with but minimal protection? Or why you are rarely invited to visit?”
“You lie! His home is always open to me. He loves me!”
He drew himself to his full height with a cold laugh. “Does he? Is that what your desperate heart wishes to believe? Or your begging him to release you from our betrothal didn’t reveal the obvious?”
Stunned, she stilled, the hurt immense. “He—he told you I pressed him to end our betrothal?”
“Indeed. He is anxious to have you out of his life.” Pity shadowed Gaston’s face. “He doesn’t want you and never did.”
Sickened, a sense of betrayal washed over her as her childhood memories collapsed in her mind. As a young girl when she’d shown an interest in herbs and healing, her father had arranged for her to live in the seaside village. In addition to allowing her to follow herpassion for healing, it had given her freedom from suitors who’d sought her hand to gain a royal tie.
Marie understood her father’s explanation that the responsibilities of the crown allowed her infrequent visits. When the opportunity arose for her to stay at one of his castles, hadn’t he always visited with her at the start of each day, reading stories of magic and faraway lands?
A chill swept through her. What of her father’s recent threat toward Colyne? Was Gaston right? “My father loves me,” she said, but doubts filled her words.
He closed his eyes, shoved out a harsh breath. When he opened them, his gaze softened. “I am sorry I was overly harsh. ’Twas wrong of me to have shared some of your father’s admissions to me with such candor. Forgive me.”
Some of her father’s admissions?Mon Dieu!What else had he told the duke? Her heart aching, she stepped back; all she wanted was to be alone.
A weary smile touched his mouth, fell away. “I have allowed jealousy to guide my tongue. But I see by the hurt in your eyes that you know my words are true.” With a grimace, he gestured toward the turret. “Go, then. Speak with the king. Ask him if my claim is a lie.”
No, it couldn’t be true. Shaking, Marie knew she should move, should seek out her father and learn the truth. And yet her feet refused to move.
“Though you do not love me,” Gaston said with unexpected tenderness, “I believe ours can be a comfortable marriage. I expect naught but your duties as my wife. Once an heir is born, if you choose, you will have your privacy. But I shall expect you at my side when an occasion requires such.”
An heir, his child, when Colyne’s grew inside her. A babe she wanted desperately.
“My only stipulation is that the Scot remain ignorant of the child,” the duke said. “ ’Twould bode ill for his life if he dared again confront the king or me.”
Fear rippled through her, and Marie lay a protective hand over her stomach where her babe rested. If Colyne learned of her pregnancy, he would do whatever it took to claim her as his wife.
“Think of what I told you,” the duke said quietly. “On the morrow I will have your word that you will comply.” He walked away.
Overwhelmed, she watched him go with a confident stride. Once he disappeared into the turret, she wrenched open her door and stumbled inside.
Her maid rushed toward her. “You are ill?”
“Non.”She held up her hand to forestall the woman’s approach. “Please, I need to be alone.”
Felyse scowled. “I told your father it was too soon for you to be about, but he insisted it was your duty to spend time with your betrothed.” She made a tsking sound. “If you ask me, the king is anxious for you to wed.”
The woman’s words chilled Marie further.
