The Princess in His Bed (13 page)

“I’m trying to tell you that—”

“Nattes!” A male voice grabbed her attention. Her blood chilled when she saw Renault walking down the corridor toward them. Stopping beside them, the vermin met her gaze.

“Madame de Gremont,” he offered stiffly.

Unlike Robert, she didn’t give him permission to address her informally. Nor would she, ever. Aimee offered no more than a nod.

“Nattes,” Renault said. “Where are you off to?”

“I’ve a meeting with the King in his chambers.”

“Ah, so do I. He wants a brief word with me. I’ll walk with you,” Renault said with a smile and a pat on Adam’s shoulder.

“Very well. Give me a moment, Sard,” Adam said.

“Of course.” Renault’s smile faded considerably in his eyes, if not his mouth, when he turned to bid Aimee good day, then moved several feet up the hallway.

“What were you saying, Aimee?” Adam asked.

Aimee glanced over at Renault. He was leaning against the wall, the weight of his gaze squarely on her. He was too far to hear her conversation, but his presence unsettled her in the extreme.

She managed a smile. “I simply wanted to tell you how incredibly handsome you look in this justacorps.” Reaching up, she smoothed the costly fabric across his broad shoulders.

His brows rose. “That’s it? That is what you wanted to tell me?”

“Yes. Green is most becoming on you.”
Green! Not blue or yellow
.
Green, Louise!
“You look exceptional in this justacorps. In fact, I believe it’s my favorite of all the ones I’ve seen.” She cringed at her prattle.

With a soft chuckle he shook his head. “You are delightfully different,” he said and turned to leave.

She caught his hand. “I’d love it if you’d wear this justacorps tonight at the King’s outdoor ball.”

Smiling, he squeezed her hand. “I’ll see.” His hand slipping from her grasp, he walked away and joined Renault.

Aimee watched the two of them walk up the hallway engaged in conversation, until they turned the corner and were finally out of sight.

She stepped back into the State Room, closed the door, and slumped back against it.

Her gaze fell on the table in the middle of the room. Where Adam had given her so much pleasure.

It sank her spirits lower. She couldn’t stand it any longer. She loathed the lies. He didn’t deserve the deceit. He deserved the truth. Some truth. Any truth. Her heart ached just thinking about it.

Next thing she knew, she was racing up the hall toward the King’s private apartments. Her heart thundered the entire way. Turning the final corner, she noted that a group of men were entering through a set of opened double doors. She spotted Adam at the back of the crowd.

“Adam!” She caught his arm the moment he was close enough to touch.

He turned around, clearly surprised by her presence. Her breathing was rapid and her heart raced, more from emotion than exertion.

“Aimee, are you all right?” His expression showed concern. “What’s the matter?”

She glanced past his shoulder and saw the last man enter the King’s rooms. They were alone. Fisting his justacorps, she rose up onto the balls of her feet and gave him a soft short kiss.

He looked baffled when she released his overcoat and dropped back down onto her heels.

“I just wanted to tell you . . . I love you.” There, she’d said it. “That’s the truth. I wanted you to know the truth.” If nothing else, she was at least being honest with him, whatever his reaction.

And at the moment, that reaction was utter astonishment. He couldn’t look more shocked. Uncomfortable with his silence, she began smoothing his justacorps where she’d grabbed and crinkled it. “You’d better go,” she said, wanting to kick herself for the ridiculous, ineloquent way she’d just informed him of her deep affections.

“Aimee . . .” His voice was soft, but she couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eye.

“Monsieur de Nattes,” a tall, thin, older gentleman called to him from the doorway. “His Majesty is waiting.”

“I’ll speak to you later,” she added with a shaky smile, turned, and walked away.

Behind her she heard the doors close. Casting a glance over her shoulder, she saw she was very much alone in the corridor.

He’d gone inside.

Excellent, Aimee. You handled that quite well. Before you had him wondering if you were mad
.
Now you’ve removed all doubt, and you’ve made yourself look like an unsophisticated ingénue
.
You certainly have a way with men
.

She shook her head, her heart heavy. What a fiasco. She wanted to scream in frustration over the entire debacle. This would be so much easier if she hadn’t fallen hopelessly in love with the man. And yet, despite it all, she wasn’t sorry she’d told him how she felt. She only wished he’d responded in kind.

Between the lies and the love she had for Adam, this scheme was tearing her apart. The fabrications and falsehoods had to cease. This mad charade had to end. It was only getting more complicated and more convoluted by the day. One way or another, she was going to have the ring. Tonight.

She only wished she knew how.

Or what Adam was going to do next.

8

“Are you certain you wish to wear this one, my lord?” Laurent asked, holding up the green justacorps Adam had been wearing during the day.

Adam smiled. “Yes. That one.” He knew Laurent thought it odd that he wasn’t going to change into a new justacorps, as was his habit, but the golden-eyed woman of his dreams had requested to see him in it. And he was more than happy to please her.

In fact, he intended to please her the rest of their lives.

After her endearing declaration in the corridor, one that completely knocked the air from his lungs, taking him by surprise, he decided he, too, had a declaration to make.

What better place than under a starry sky with the King’s finest musicians playing?

Smiling to himself, Adam slipped his arms into the sleeves. He’d chosen a different vest and black breeches to complete his attire.

“What do you think, Laurent?”

The older gentleman smiled and responded in his usual manner. “I think the lady will be most impressed, my lord.”

“Ah, but this lady is very special, Laurent. She may very well become the Marquise de Nattes.”

His servant’s smile broadened. “She’s a most fortunate woman if she does, my lord.”

Adam looked at his reflection in the mirror and adjusted his sleeves. “I think I’m the lucky one.”

Everything was going incredibly well. The King was most enthusiastic about Adam’s machine and had given his approval to move forward on the project.

And Aimee . . . luscious, sweet Aimee was in love with him.

This night was going to be a night neither of them was ever going to forget.

“Have a good evening, my lord.”

Adam couldn’t seem to wipe the smile off his face. “Oh, I plan to.” He turned on his heel to leave. His justacorps swung out and hit the table he passed with a
clunk
.

He stopped and glanced down, unsure what made the odd noise. Something small was bulging from his pocket.

Slipping a hand inside, his fingers touched upon a round, hard object. He pulled it out. A ring. One of the King’s rings. Immediately, he checked his hand and found his ring securely on his finger.

This wasn’t his.

Adam moved closer to the silver candelabra on the table and looked inside the ring for the inscription he knew each possessed.

R.S.
were the letters inscribed.
R.S
.
?
One by one, he flitted in his mind through the men whom he knew had been given the prestigious royal ring.

Laurent’s closing of the armoire’s doors distracted his thoughts, yanking his gaze to his servant. Laurent had moved to the second armoire and was closing its doors as well. Suddenly, the image of Aimee standing in Laurent’s place flashed in his head. Her hand moving over the justacorps . . . During the day. In the middle of the night. Aimee with his justacorps spread out over the bed.

Her hands moving oddly down his body—
to his pockets
.

Merde
.
She’s been searching for this ring the whole time
.
R.S
. Who was R . . .
Jésus-Christ
, he swore under his breath. Renault de Sard. Why was she seeking Sard’s ring? Fool. Her cousin was the reason. Sard’s former mistress. Sard had told him he’d ended the longtime affair while at the palace. That the woman was unbearable. Unruly. Ungovernable. And retaliatory.

He’d confided that he’d warned Louise she’d better not try anything. Had the woman taken his ring? There was no doubt in Adam’s mind that Aimee was searching for it.

It became clear to Adam that she’d approached him for no other reason than to find the ring. Somehow she knew it was in one of his justacorps.

How it got into his pocket didn’t matter. What mattered was that not once had he truly questioned her strange behavior; instead, he’d walked about in a haze of lust and love, ignoring logic. Reason. Behavior that defied explanation should have spiked his suspicions.

He curled the ring into his fist. He had one goal.

Finding Aimee de Miran.

In the palace’s outdoor ballroom grove, the
menuet
filled the night.

The King’s musicians were situated above the cascading water-falls, their music carrying well beyond the oval ballroom and into the surrounding woods.

A number of giant torchères illuminated the magnificent amphitheatre.

Colorful gowns and justacorps twirled past as the dancers moved in time to the music.

Sitting on one of the grass-covered steps with the other spectators, Aimee looked about. She couldn’t seem to locate Louise or Adam.

Both should have been here by now. Her nerves jangled. She’d spoken to Louise. She’d told her that she was going to tell Adam everything.

Then she’d spent the next hour calming Louise down. In no way did her cousin agree with her plan initially. It took some coaxing and convincing before she ceded.

Louise was supposed to be here well before Adam. Well before now. They were going to try to explain the matter together.

A tap on the shoulder made Aimee jump and twist around. Staring back at her was Laurent.

“Madame, Monsieur le Marquis wishes to speak with you in his personal apartments.”

Adam? In his chambers? “Is everything all right?”

“Please follow me, madame.” The servant turned and walked away. Aimee followed, unable to shake the anxiety tightening her entrails. Dread mounted by the moment during the long walk across the gardens and to the outbuildings his master’s rooms were located in.

By the time they reached Adam’s door, her insides were in a frenzy.

Laurent opened the door to the antechamber and she walked in. She found Adam seated at the ebony table in the room. No justacorps or vest on, he simply wore a white linen shirt and black breeches. He slumped slightly in his chair, one arm resting casually on the table, his expression difficult to decipher.

“Have a seat, Aimee,” he said as Laurent quietly left, closing the door behind him.

Not his usual greeting. None of the warmth in his eyes or tone was there. She didn’t know what to make of his mood.

Aimee sat down opposite him at the table.

He stretched out his long legs. “I’ve a question for you,
chère
. Actually, I have several. But we’ll start with this one.” He lifted his palm that was down on the table, to reveal the ring beneath it.

Aimee’s heart sank, as she knew exactly whose ring that was.

Adam picked up the ring off the table and spun it. Silently, she watched the thing whirling on the wooden surface.

“Tell me, Aimee, have you been looking for this?”

She wasn’t going to lie. Not a single falsehood would pass her lips. Whatever he asked, she was going to give him the truth. No matter the consequences, and she had a terrible feeling all was lost anyway.