How fickle was she?One kiss and her word was worthless.Nay, one look and her vow was forgotten.At Quinn’s touch, she had forgotten her own reserve and even her dignity.
Much of what she valued was lost already—and their nuptial vows had not even been exchanged.Quinn de Sayerne would be the ruin of all she held dear.
Worse, Melissande was powerless to halt what Tulley had begun.
Quinn stormedinto the bathing chamber near the stables, kicking open the heavy wooden door then slamming it behind himself.Three unfamiliar servants, as well as Michel, jumped and turned to regard him in surprise.
Ye gods, but Melissande d’Annossy could set his blood to boiling as never it had before!He had never been so infuriated—and that within a heartbeat of being so consumed with desire.Quinn felt vexed and challenged and ardent, all at the same time.It was a most confusing combination and one that left him riled beyond all.
And he had barely made the lady’s acquaintance.If she had been welcoming, this fire in his blood could have bode well for their match.As it was, he feared that he would yearn every day and night of his life, and she would ignore him.
But Tulley could not be denied.Quinn had to wed Melissande and he had to bed her, and he had to convince her to make their marriage one of merit.
He simply did not believe in this moment that it could be done.
She had granted him one night to conceive an heir.Oh, he would have to ensure that her pleasure was complete.Quinn shoved a hand through his hair in frustration.If only he had possessed an increment of Niall’s charm, or a measure of Amaury’s confidence with women.Quinn knew he was an unpolished suitor and Melissande’s refinement made him more keenly aware of his lack.
Surely this marriage could not cost him all?
Bayard was yet bathing, characteristically taking his leisure in the hot water.The room was filled with steam and the smell of wet cloth.A fire blazing within a brazier was the only source of light, but none of this tranquility soothed Quinn in the least.He paced the width of the chamber and back, ignoring the watchfulness of the others.
Could he successfully seduce Melissande?
Could he win her favor?
Michel approached him cautiously, the boy’s manner proof that Quinn’s bout of temper showed.“Would you bathe, my lord?”
“Aye.”Quinn bit out the word.
“Then we will need more hot water.”Michel gestured to one of Tulley’s servants, who hesitated.When Quinn glared, the man bowed hastily and fled the chamber, bucket in hand.Bayard laughed but Quinn did not so much as smile.He eyed the other servants who followed their comrade with haste.
“And what did the Lord de Tulley say that vexed you so mightily?”Bayard asked.
“It was not Tulley who vexed me,” Quinn admitted.“Though he struck the tinder.”
The other knight’s dark eyes gleamed with curiosity.“Bad tidings?”
“Bad enough.”Quinn shed his cloak and unbuckled his belt, aware of the filth layering his skin.He had to court Melissande and win her favor—though he doubted the extent of his charm and he felt the press of time.
Could the feat be done?
Or was Sayerne already lost?
“I do not think I have ever seen you in such a foul mood,” Bayard commented.
Quinn knew the look he tossed his comrade was a dark one.
Bayard chuckled.“Aye, foul indeed.”
“If you wish to see a foul mood, then come to my wedding,” Quinn replied.“I will take a wife in less than an hour.”
Michel froze in the midst of folding Quinn’s tabard to stare.
“Wedding?”Bayard laughed again.“You are to be married?On this very day?”
“Aye, or else Sayerne will not be mine.”Quinn sighed.“Lord de Tulley has set the terms and there is little to find amusing in the situation.”
“Married!”Bayard repeated.“And so quick as that!Do they fear she will flee?”
