The Dark Knight (35 page)

“There is one other thing you are wrong about,” he said, his face still so close to hers that she had trouble concentrating on his words rather than the enticing shape of his mouth as he made them. “My attraction to you was not part of the deception. That was the one thing I never lied to you about.”

Oh, no. No, no, no. She shook her head, even as she felt the first cracks forming in the last wall. This was not good. “You lied to me from the moment we met. About everything.”

“I
wanted
you from the moment we met,” he said, “but my ardor cooled each time you called me ‘Percival.’ I wanted to hear
my
name on your lips. Can you imagine
your feelings if I kissed you, and then called you … Jane?”

She shook her head, only because it seemed to be the expected thing to do. This was some fevered imagining on her part. Perhaps he had drugged her again.

“I was certain you would be horrified once you learned my true identity.” He rubbed his thumb across her lower lip, sending a fresh set of shivers through her. How did he
do
that? “Is it possible you would still come to me willingly, knowing who I really am, knowing I lied to you? How can I still be someone honorable in your eyes?”

“Stop this,” she whispered. She rolled her lower lip between her teeth to stop the tingling sensation his touch had ignited, but she did not turn away. “I cannot think straight when you make me feel this way.”

“What way?” he asked, as his thumb stroked her chin.

Safe, secure … seduced
. The words popped into her head unbidden, but they were the truth. She had a formidable reputation for being the most clearheaded, sensible woman among all those she knew. Suddenly she was the most gullible girl ever born. All he had to do was touch her and every rational thought left her head. Well, not every rational thought. “Is this another of your deceptions?”

He shook his head even as his eyes burned with sincerity. “There are endless reasons why I should leave you alone and let you believe my desire was an act, but I know the thought that I deceived you in that way hurts you.” He lifted his hand and stroked the backs of his fingers across her cheek. “I do not like to hurt you, Avalene.”

Some shred of self-preservation kicked in and she leaned farther away from him. “Why should you leave me alone?”

“Because you are an innocent,” he said, “and I am not. Just knowing me will corrupt you, damage your
soul in ways you cannot imagine. If I were a truly honorable, compassionate man, I would walk away from you.” He placed his fingers over her lips before she could argue. “But I am a selfish man, and I want you too much to let you go. I am yours, if you want me.”

Before she could think of anything to say to that astonishing announcement, he lowered his head and kissed her, gently at first, and then with more insistence.

She had almost forgotten how good he tasted until his mouth touched hers, just as she had forgotten about the strange melting sensation. His tongue glided over the seam of her lips and her heart turned traitor. He effortlessly opened her to his seduction, using all of his skill to make her forget everything but his kisses as her body both yielded and strained toward him at the same time. The fabric of his tunic felt soft against her palms, but his chest was the familiar wall of warm stone, the only solid thing to cling to, the only thing that kept her from falling under a wave of desire so strong it made her heart ache.

This is what she had missed, what she had mourned when she had learned of his betrayal; this sense of rightness, the feeling that everything was perfect so long as she remained in his arms. She wanted to lose herself in the heady emotions. However, this time her sensible side refused to be silenced. Reality intruded all too quickly.

He was not safe, and this was madness. She forced herself to turn her head away and then shivered when he trailed a line of kisses down her neck. “This is not right.”

“I know.” He placed his lips over a pulse point on her neck and gently suckled.

She had trouble maintaining her train of thought. “I—I do not want this.”

“Aye, you do.”

“Nay, stop. Please.” She pushed against his shoulders until he stopped kissing her. He lifted his head and
looked down at her, his eyes watchful as she spoke. “I cannot do this again. I know you are lying to me.”

His smile was sad. “You have little reason to trust me, but in this I am telling the truth. I want you, and I know you want me, too. Will you deny it?”

She wished she could. “You know I cannot.”

He studied her face. “Is that really such a bad thing?”

“Aye.” She could be sucked under by his spell again to drown in all the emotions he stirred inside her. How easy it would be to pretend that he felt something special for her. But she could not survive it if he made her believe his lies again, if she allowed herself to hope and it all turned out to be another deception.

“Will you make me one promise? A promise that you will not break, no matter what?” The words sounded foolish even to her own ears. She was asking an accomplished liar not to lie. Her heart rate accelerated.
Stupid, stupid, stupid
.

His expression turned wary. “That depends upon the promise.”

She drew an unsteady breath. “Promise that you will not give me false hope.”

“What do you mean?”

Ah, the explanation. This should be roundly humiliating. She reached out and placed her fingertips on his lips, as much to enjoy the sensation of touching him as to prevent him from interrupting her. “When you kiss me, I forget what is right and wrong. You make me forget what a good liar you are. ’Tis obvious you can still seduce me. I have little will to resist you. And yet you claim that you do not want to hurt me. If that is true, then do not tell me lies about your feelings for me. Do not make me hope for a future that can never be. Swear that you will not make me any promises that you cannot keep.”

He took her hand from his lips and turned it over to press a kiss into her palm. “
Gesù
, I do not deserve you, but you have my word. I will not make any false promises.”

She tried to smile. “I am not so grand a prize, but you will not have to put up with me for long.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you do not have to lie about taking me to Italy.” It was hard to keep her voice steady. “I understand that you must do your duty and turn me over to the king. Perhaps Segrave is wrong about the Tower. Who knows? Rather than prison, I may be allowed to live at court with all the fine lords and ladies.”
When hell freezes over
.

He took her face between his hands and then tilted her head back, forcing her to look up at him. Above him the sky was a luminescent shade of indigo blue, casting him into silhouette against a blanket of emerging stars. “You have my promise that I will never allow anyone to imprison you.”

She tried to shake her head but he would not allow it.

“You have my promise that you do not have to barter your honor for your freedom to leave England with me. You have my promise that no matter what does or does not happen between us, I will take you to Italy and I will take care of you.”

She tried to find the lie in his eyes, but saw only fierce determination. Was it possible he was telling the truth? Could she actually trust him?

Impossible.

She struggled to make her voice sound skeptical rather than breathless. “You would still take me to Italy if I refused you?”

“Aye,” he said, without a moment’s hesitation. The sureness of his response stunned her.

“Why?” she asked again. “Why would you go to so much trouble, so much risk for me?”

He needed time to think that over. At last he said, “Fate has taken away much in my life. You are a gift I did not expect but one I will selfishly take, even if there is a price I must eventually pay for my greed. You are worth the consequences, Avalene.”

He thought she was a gift?

“I intend to court you,” he warned, “in ways that are far beyond the bounds of what is proper. I will leave you chaste if that is your wish, but I will also take advantage of every opportunity to seduce you, now that I know you still want me.”

“I cannot trust you again so easily,” she warned, while her heart raced. She would never be able to resist such a courtship. She pulled away from him a little. “I have not forgotten your … deception.”

“I had my orders,” he said simply. “If I had not arrived when I did, if the real Sir Percival had entered Coleway while you were still there, you would likely be wed to the steward by now. Even if the real Percival managed to take you away from Coleway, he intended all along to turn you over to the Segraves and you would have found yourself wed to a traitor.”

“Segrave told me the same story,” she said, with a defeated sigh. “But surely you can understand my … anger over the complete success of your deception. You fooled me so easily, how can I ever again trust you without question? I never doubted you for an instant as Sir Percival. I can never trust you for an instant as Dante Chiavari.”

“I lied to you about my identity,” he admitted, “but I did not betray your trust in my intentions nor did I deceive you in the ways that matter most. From the start I have protected you, kept you safe from your enemies
and the enemies of the king. The only pretense about my feelings for you is that I have done my best to disguise their depths. When Segrave captured you—”

His mouth became a hard line and he had to take a deep breath before he continued. “You were right about me last night, when you compared what I do to the job of an executioner. I had never viewed it in quite that light before, but it is an appropriate analogy. I do not kill for sport or bloodlust, but when Segrave touched you, when he spoke so crudely of his plans to bed you, I wanted to kill him where he stood.”

“Did you kill him?” she whispered. Despite his claims otherwise, he’d had the perfect opportunity when they were all disabled by the poison.

He shook his head. “Segrave has not yet committed outright treason, and the king wishes him to live. I gave my word that he would not die by my hand, although it is a promise I have already come to regret. Just the thought of you as his wife, that he has any rights where you are concerned … Segrave is luckier than he knows to still be alive.”

She took a moment to absorb the possibility that he was jealous.

“I will not let him have you,” he vowed. “I will do everything within my power to make you mine. If time is what it will take to regain your trust, you will have it. What else will it take to restore your faith in me?”

What else, indeed? Was it even possible to turn back time, to return her heart to a place where her trust in him was absolute? Was anything he said true, or was all of it true?

The voice of reason laughed at her yearnings. This was how he had deceived her in the first place, by playing upon her own weakness for him. He made her fall in
love with a lie. She couldn’t risk making the same mistakes all over again, but, oh, how she wanted to.

“I do not know what to say.” She gave a mirthless laugh. “I do not even know what to feel. My whole world is turned backward.”

“You do not have to say anything for now.” There was a trace of disappointment in his voice, but he cupped his hand behind her head and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “We are nearly two days from London, and then we have at least a fortnight before my ship sets sail. You have time to think through my offer. You have even more time to decide if I am worthy of your forgiveness and what I must do to regain your trust.”

She had no idea how to answer, and wisely remained silent.

“We will be on the road early again tomorrow morning. We should both try to get some sleep.”

All she could do was nod, suddenly exhausted, overwhelmed by all he had told her. She did not resist when he urged her to lie down again, or when he tucked their cloaks around them, or even when he drew her closer. She lay in his arms without protest, his embrace inescapable and yet somehow comforting.

After a long time, she felt the tension in his arms begin to ease and her own body began to relax as well. Finally she drifted into a restless slumber, not truly asleep, but never fully awake. She was certain the nightmares would revisit her. They always did when she was particularly upset about something. This certainly qualified as “something.” Instead she dreamed of Sir Percival, and then she dreamed of Dante, and then he became Sir Percival again.

Sometime during the night the two men became one. She wasn’t entirely certain what that meant.

The weather gave Avalene plenty of time to think the next day. The rain started again before dawn, an unpleasant but effective way to ensure they had an early start to the day. They quickly packed up the camp and then rode single file along the muddy road, which gave her little opportunity to speak with anyone. That suited her for a time. The tightness in her chest began to ease as the hours passed, and yet the unwelcome voice of reason refused to be swayed.

Dante’s amazing declarations of the night before were too good to be true. She knew that. And yet she could not think of any reasons why he would tell such monstrous lies. Her thoughts grew more and more tangled, to the point that she would have preferred the distraction of conversation.