The thought made Gabrielle feel ill, but she realized if she did not take hold of herself, Catherine might not be the only one privy to her humiliating secret. Others might possibly guess, perhaps even Remy. Gabrielle could not endure that.
Danton’s insolent gaze swept toward her. The bile rose in her throat and she swallowed hard. Although her heart beat wildly, Gabrielle gathered up her courage and surged forward to confront her worst nightmare.
Chapter Seventeen
N
icolas Remy’s eyes narrowed as he studied Gabrielle and the knight in the costly armor. The newcomer had drawn her away from the tent, the two of them lost in some low, intense conversation. In spite of the crowd milling past her, Gabrielle was oblivious to everyone but the stranger. Except that Remy doubted this man was a stranger to Gabrielle. She had tensed at the sight of him, with an expression Remy had never seen on her face before, not even the day her home had been attacked by witch-hunters.
Fear.
Such terror that Remy had expected to see her run away as though the hounds of hell were after her. But she had recovered herself and stalked forward to greet the man. She was pale but so composed Remy wondered if he had imagined the fear.
He saw nothing about the man to terrify any woman. The unknown knight was a handsome enough fellow, Remy grudgingly conceded. Dark hair waved back from a face defined by high cheekbones and an aquiline nose. But his features were stamped with that look that Remy had always despised. An arrogant the-world-is-mine-and-I’ll-do-just-as-I-damned-well-please expression.
So who the devil was he? And more important, what was he to Gabrielle?
As though he had spoken his question aloud, a soft voice said, “Mademoiselle Cheney seems to be eagerly renewing her acquaintance with Danton.”
Remy glanced down to find the Dark Queen close by his side. Her smile seemed to taunt him with some secret knowledge. “I was not even aware that our dear Gabrielle knew him. But they appear to be rather intimate. One of her conquests, do you suppose?”
Remy knew well what she was getting at, that this Danton had been one of Gabrielle’s lovers. Remy’s gaze flicked back to Gabrielle. The fellow was whispering something in her ear. Remy felt a savage bite of jealousy, but he sought to contain it.
It would be less than wise to display any undue interest before the Dark Queen, let alone any hint of his feelings for Gabrielle. Reveal no weaknesses before Catherine. Never gaze straight into her eyes. Gabrielle herself had warned Remy of that. But he found himself staring into the Dark Queen’s eyes as though mesmerized. Those hooded dark eyes that promised the answers to his questions, answers he had a feeling he wasn’t going to like. But he could not seem to look away.
“So who the blazes is he? This Danton?” Remy asked.
“The Chevalier Etienne Danton is a scion of one of our oldest and noblest families in Normandy. He has been unwelcome at our court for many years due to—er—a past indiscretion.”
“Then how could he be one of Gabrielle’s conquests? She has only been in Paris for two years.”
“True. I wondered about that myself. She must have met him during her girlhood on Faire Isle.” Catherine clicked her tongue softly. “I cannot imagine what her mother was thinking of. But alas, I forgot. Evangeline was dead. Otherwise I doubt she’d have ever permitted a man like Danton anywhere near her innocent daughter.”
“A man like Danton? What do you mean?” Remy demanded.
“The chevalier has an unfortunate reputation with the ladies. It is whispered that no woman can say no to him.” Catherine leaned closer to Remy, lowering her voice to a more intimate timbre. “But perhaps that is because Danton will not allow a woman to say no. What is not willingly surrendered to him, he takes.”
Remy blinked, a strange sensation sweeping over him. He swayed on his feet, feeling as though he was falling into the dark pools of Catherine’s eyes. Like bursts of lightning, pictures of Gabrielle flashed through his mind. Skirts shoved up past her hips, trapped beneath a man who drove himself brutally into her. Tears streaking down her cheeks, biting her lips to contain her sobs. Dazed and bruised, clutching the torn bodice of her gown over her bared breasts.
Inhaling sharply, Remy snapped his gaze free of Catherine’s, grinding his fingertips against his eyes to dispel the harrowing images. Every pore in his body tingled with an awareness of danger. Perhaps it was the amulet working or only some instinct of his own that warned him. The Dark Queen was practicing her witchery on him. He fought to clear his head, but his thoughts seemed to collide and tumble over one another, fragments of his conversation with Gabrielle.
“You were never in love? Not even the first time?”
“Of course not. I don’t even remember his name.”
The memory of Gabrielle’s haunted face swam before Remy and it didn’t matter what Catherine might be plotting, what the Dark Queen was doing to him. Nothing mattered except the hatred that swept through his veins, so icy that it burned.
His shadow enemy now had both a face and a name . . . Danton.
“Gabrielle, you are as beautiful and bewitching as ever.”
Although her heart hammered against her rib cage, Gabrielle forced herself to look at Danton. The lines of dissipation were carved a little deeper about his mouth and eyes, but Etienne still appeared handsome. Dark hair waved back from his forehead, his face all lean angles from his aristocratic cheekbones to the aquiline cast of his nose. He’d completely dazzled the naÏve sixteen-year-old girl she had been, with his charm and smooth good looks. She was no longer naÏve or sixteen, Gabrielle reminded herself fiercely, but she had to fight hard not to quail as he moved closer.
“It has been far too long since I have had the pleasure of your company.”
“Not long enough,” she retorted.
He flung back his head and laughed. The manner she had once thought so charming struck her as being affected. When he tried to secure her hand, she whipped her fingers out of reach. If he so much as touched her, she feared she might be sick.
Danton assumed a look of deep hurt. “Gabrielle. Have you not missed me?”
“No. I have not given you a single thought all these years.”
Danton smirked. “You lie. A woman never forgets her first lover, although—” His gaze swept insolently over her. “From what I have heard, you have dispensed your favors generously since our little tryst.”
Gabrielle curled her hands into fists to resist the urge to rake her nails over his mocking face. She and Danton were the object of far too many curious eyes. Not the least of all Remy’s scowling gaze. Keeping her voice low, Gabrielle demanded, “What are you doing here, Danton? I understood that you had been banished from court.”
“All is forgiven. I have been welcomed back by no less than the Queen Mother herself. So you should be nice to me, Gabrielle. With the queen’s patronage, I am likely to become a very important man.”
“You are more likely to become a fool if you trust any promise of Catherine’s. But then you never were all that clever.”
Something ugly flashed into Danton’s eyes to be quickly smoothed away behind his smile. He seized hold of both her hands in a painful grasp and drew her closer. Gabrielle stifled a gasp. Without causing an obvious scene, she could not work herself free. Still smiling, Danton dipped down to whisper in her ear. “You have no idea the sort of plans the queen has for me, especially if I am declared champion of this tourney. She will give me anything I want . . . including you.”
Gabrielle glared at him, but even the threat of such a thing was enough to make her feel weak and trembling. As Danton raised first one of her hands to his lips, then the other, she experienced a dizzying rush of that helplessness she’d known that day in the barn. The brush of his mouth against her skin brought it all back to her, every painful memory of the things that Danton had done to her.
“Let her go.”
The voice was low, but cold and sharp as a steel blade. Remy had stolen upon them so silently that both she and Danton started. Danton loosened his grasp on her hands enough that Gabrielle was able to pull away from him.
Remy hooked his arm about Gabrielle’s waist and hauled her protectively to his side. Gabrielle resisted an overwhelming urge to melt against his strength. The situation was too fraught with potential for disaster for her to give way to any weakness now.
Remy and Danton squared off, each man taking the other’s measure. Danton quirked his brow at Remy in a haughty fashion and said, “Mademoiselle and I were enjoying a private conversation, monsieur. Who are you to interrupt?”
“The man who is going to kill you,” Remy said softly.
Danton’s eyes widened. He gave an incredulous laugh. “Pray tell me, monsieur, what have I done to cause you offense?”
“You are still breathing.”
Gabrielle stared up at Remy in astonishment and alarm. During the brief interval since she had left him by the tent, Remy seemed to have taken leave of his senses. His rich brown eyes were so chilling, it frightened her. She tugged urgently at his arm. “Remy, please. Let us go back and rejoin the others.”
Remy didn’t even seem to hear her, his dark gaze fixed on Danton.
“Ah, Captain
Remy.
” Danton’s eyes swept contemptuously over him. “So you are the famous Scourge. We have a great deal in common. It looks to me as though you must be our sweet Gabrielle’s latest lover. I had the privilege of being her first.”
A muscle twitched dangerously in Remy’s jaw. Gabrielle’s heartbeat quickened. She tightened her grip on his arm. “Remy . . .”
He shook her off and took a step nearer to Danton. “I understand from the Dark Queen that you hoped to challenge me to a bout in the lists.”
“Remy. No!” Gabrielle pleaded.
Before Gabrielle could stop him, Remy wrenched free one of the leather gloves from his belt. He struck Danton full force across the face with it.
“Consider your challenge accepted,” he said tersely.
Danton clapped his hand to the red welt on his cheek. Glaring, he groped for the hilt of his sword and Gabrielle feared he meant to fly at Remy then and there. But Danton seemed to think better of it. With a stiff bow, he turned and strode away.
Gabrielle released a tremulous breath, her mind reeling with how rapidly the situation had slipped beyond her control. She became aware of the sensation that the scene between Remy and Danton had caused. There were audible gasps, murmurs, and whispers from the throng gathered outside Navarre’s tent. The king of France could be heard complaining to his mother. “Damned Huguenot. One challenges a man to joust by striking his shield, not his face. Captain Remy does not know the rules for gentlemanly engagement.”
“Precisely,” Catherine replied.
Gabrielle glanced sharply back at them. The king’s outrage did not alarm her nearly so much as the Dark Queen’s thin smile.
Gabrielle paced the tent, fuming to cover her fear. The other ladies had already gone to find a place in the stands, most of the knights to mount their horses, including Navarre. Gabrielle had pleaded with the king to forbid Remy’s joust with Danton. But the king had merely shrugged with his charming smile. Navarre did not know the cause of Remy’s quarrel with Danton, but one could not interfere. It was a question of honor.
Honor,
Gabrielle reflected furiously as she took another turn about the tent. That wretched excuse men used for hazarding their lives and bashing away at one another. It so infuriated her, she longed to box the ears of every man she came across, beginning with the obstinate one stripping down to his shirtsleeves, preparing to fight.
Deaf to her every argument and plea, Remy shrugged into a gambeson, easing the padded undercoat over his shoulders while Wolf laid out the armor. Gabrielle’s heart sank with dismay. Even she realized it was not of the best quality and certainly never designed to fit Remy with the precision Danton’s armor did him. The helmet still looked rough from the hammer, crude and unpolished.
Remy was entirely indifferent to the fact. He snapped his fingers at Wolf. “Fetch that cuirass here and be quick about it.”