Laughing and gasping for air, they staggered back to the table, sat down, and ordered more mead. Drunk with joy, Gabrielle smiled gratefully and exuberantly at Bastien. “Thank you for this memorable evening. For enabling me to experience freedom. It’s a night I’ll never forget…something I’ll treasure forever.”
His dazzling smile scorched her soul.
While the music and merriment continued in the background, Gabrielle gazed into the golden mead in her goblet. Her throat constricted into a tight lump. “I’m afraid of the future, Bastien. I don’t want to be given away to a stranger.”
An array of emotions blazed in his intense eyes.
Anger. Despair. Jealousy. Frustration.
“You ‘re a champion. The Master of Horse…” She frantically searched his anguished face, her voice breaking as she choked out the words. “Could you… compete in the joust?” Unwanted tears brimming, she quickly dashed them away and averted her eyes, tracing a finger around the rim of her goblet. “My Yuletide wish… is foryouto be the champion.” Mustering her last bit of courage, she raised her hesitant gaze to his. “And win my hand.”
He grasped her clutched fist, opened it flat against his cheek, and tenderly kissed the inside of her palm. Wrapping her fingers within his own, he tucked her hand under his chin, as if it were a priceless treasure. “Nothing would bring me greater joy. But I cannot compete in the joust.” He placed her hand reverently upon the table, reluctantly retracting his own. Embittered eyes bore into her heart. “I have no title of nobility. No lands or inheritance of my own. Nothing to offer a wife, let alone a princess. I am utterly unworthy of your royal hand.”
The haunting melody of a mournful ballad soared from a troubadour’s mellow harp, its plaintive notes and lyrics expressing the sorrow in Gabrielle’s soul.
“How I long to know her love,
And yet so little learn
I cannot keep from wanting her
In passion though I burn
She stole my heart and all of me
Yet we are worlds apart
Without her, nothing’s left for me
But the yearning in my heart.”
A wave of desperation flooded as her pulse began to race. This was her last chance.
Lancelot and Sir Esclados would soon arrive with the horses for the tournament. The entire castle would come alive with preparations for the Yuletide Joust. Great-aunt Béatrice and her vulturous vipers would voyage from Paris, visiting nobles would fill every guest room, and Gabrielle would not have a moment of respite.
Tonight was her final, fleeting taste of freedom.
And she wanted to savor every delectable drop.
She gulped the rest of her mead, swallowing her trepidation as her heart hammered wildly.
Bastien refilled their goblets from the pitcher on the table. Eyes as green as the verdant forest caressed her face, bolstering her courage.
Gabrielle locked her gaze with his. “You once said you would do anything for me.”
Impassioned eyes held hers. “I did. And I would.”
Lively fiddles began anew, raucous revelry reborn. “Dance with me again.” She was desperate to feel his arms around her…inhale his intoxicating scent. Maybe, in his arms, she could muster the nerve.
An achingly beautiful smile lit up his handsome face, a glint of joy sparkling in his dark eyes. He took her hand and led her back onto the dance floor where laughing couples swirled and twirled. He pulled her close, and she laid her face against the broad chest where his heart thumped against her cheek. She drank her fill of his earthy scent, drawing it deep into her lungs.
His sculpted body molding against hers, he whirled her in his arms as if she were part of him. As if they belonged together. Two halves of a whole.
She lifted her face and kissed the hair at the base of his throat. His guttural moan reverberated into her body, making her breasts tingle. Keenly aware of the strong hand pressing against the small of her back, the hardness straining at her stomach, the muscular thighs entwined with her own, Gabrielle’s knees weakened under her plain homespun gown.
I must ask him now. I’ll never have the chance again.
“I want you to do something for me, Bastien.” She buried her nose in his heaving chest.
