If only she did not set his blood afire.If only the sight of her—eyes flashing, color high—did not make him yearn to kiss her to silence, seduce her, tickle her and coax her laughter.If only every exchange did not make him yearn for a true marriage in every sense.
She loved Arnaud.He could not believe her to be inconstant, so her heart, once surrendered, would be Arnaud’s forevermore.Quinn did not have to like it, but he had to accept that truth.
His marriage was doomed to be unhappy, for the lady was right.A betrothal was as good as a marriage in terms of being an obstacle to wedding another.
He needed to talk to Tulley.
Quinn was not looking forward to that.
He was chilled to his marrow, despite the cloak, but he had given his word.He dared not stamp his feet to warm them for fear of awakening Melissande, so turned back to stare out at the night.He had sat vigil before and doubtless he would do so again.He reminded himself that he had gone days without sleep and that he had lived all his life without the comfort of a great bed like the one his wife occupied.
Never mind the sweetness of Melissande tucked against his side.Even if she did not wish to be intimate, he could have been content to hold her.How long did a woman’s courses last?He had no notion, but he did know that her courses meant she was not with child.
It could all be put aside so easily, if Tulley could be convinced to see reason.
Quinn shivered and wrapped the cloak more tightly around himself, watching the night in the direction of the mill.It was not the cold that left him feeling hollow and alone.It was the knowledge that if he did right and defended his lady, he would be left with naught at all.Though he had possessed naught until just days ago, he knew that this time, he would keenly feel the lack.
Then something fell.
It hit to the floor behind him, the sound muffled.It must have fallen to the rug by the side of the bed.Quinn looked and could see the glint of some item on the floor there.He rose and moved silently to retrieve it.If it had fallen from Melissande’s grasp, she did not miss it, for she slept on.
’Twas a knife in a jewelled scabbard and Quinn was certain he had never seen it before.
He spared a glance at Melissande, her braid cast across the linens, her skin as fair as ivory in the darkness.He took the knife to the window and examined it in the moonlight.The sheath was fine, etched with an elaborate design and studded with gems, and there was another larger gem in the hilt.He drew the blade, noting that it was in excellent care, and drew the blade gently across his hand.Honed to perfection.
A lethal weapon.
Why did she have such a knife?
Why did she take it to bed—on the very night that she had told him not to join her?Surely she could not imagine that he would force his affections upon her?
He made to sheath the weapon again and the moonlight caught something on the blade.It was inscribed.Quinn held it higher and turned it in the moonlight.
To Gaultier—
With affection
upon the presentation of your spurs
—Marie
Gaultier.
Could there be two men with such name in Melissande’s acquaintance, both of whom were inclined to see her armed against her husband?Quinn suspected not.He had never believed in coincidence and his years at crusade had only confirmed his view.
He sheathed the weapon and silently replaced it on the rug, as if he had not seen it.Then he returned to the window, standing now as he looked into the night.Resolve filled him with new purpose, despite his exhaustion.
There were two questions for which he needed a reply and only one man could answer them.Why had Tulley ignored Melissande’s betrothal to Arnaud?And what was known of Gaultier, Captain of the Guard, that he had been recommended for such a post?
Quinn would ride to Tulley and have the truth of it from his wily overlord.
The sun would not set upon Annossy again without Quinn knowing both the location of his lady wife’s beloved and the allegiance of Annossy’s Captain of the Guard.
It might not set again with Quinn still in possession of Annossy’s seal, but that was a risk he had to take.
Bayard wasawake when he heard quiet footsteps on the stairs.His hand fell to his blade hilt by force of habit but otherwise he remained still, listening.To his relief, the sound came from above, not below, and he recognized Quinn’s silhouette as that man descended from the solar.Bayard and Amaury still slept on the second floor of Annossy’s tower, and there was room for the younger squires now that Lothair and Niall remained at the mill.
To his surprise, Quinn moved quietly across the chamber to his side instead of continuing down the stairs.He seemed to expect that Bayard would be awake, for he looked down upon him, his features lost in shadows, and nodded once.Then he returned to the stairs and went down the stairs to the hall.
