She had doubly lost. Her virginity was gone forever,and now there would be no escape. Not tonight.
Heaving a broken sigh, Leila touched Guy's face withtrembling, tear-wet fingers.
Most unsettling of all, deep in her heart she was nolonger sure she truly wanted to escape him.
Chapter 15
Loud pounding upon the door startled Guy awake and hegroaned, slowly opening his eyes as he rolled over onto his back. He stared atthe velvet canopy and rubbed his eyes until they focused clearly.
What the devil had happened? Why did he feel so damnlousy? His head was aching and his mouth was as dry and scratchy as coarsewool.
Guy felt the mattress depress slightly and heard therustling of linen sheets beside him. He turned his head to see Leila risingstiffly from the bed withoutsomuch as a glance inhis direction. She was naked, her hair still damp and clinging to her lovelyback and buttocks . . .
Suddenly the events of the previous night came rushingback to him and he groaned again, remorse and self-disgust flooding him, aswell as incredible relief that she had not managed to escape. Wondering dazedlyhow that had been accomplished, he watched her quickly dress herself while thevigorous pounding continued on the door.
"God's blood, who is it?" Guy shouted,throwing his forearm over his eyes against the bright sunlight slashing acrossthe rumpled bed. "Cease that infernal racket or I'll—"
"Lord deWarenne! It'sHenry Langton. RobertBurnellis here with me, too.We just got your message from thetavernerthat youwere here, so we came night up. Open the door so we can get a good look at you,man. It's been a hell of a long time. And traveling with a new wife, no less!"
Guy sat up in bed, trying to shake off the muddled hazestill lingering in his brain.
Of course. Langton andBurnell.He had left a message for them to meet with him early this morning so that theycould journey together the rest of the way to London.
"Hold a minute!" he called out, climbing fromthe bed. As he stood up, he grabbed a torn curtain to steadyhimselfagainst a sudden wave of dizziness and waited on unsteady legs until it passed."Damn," he muttered.
How long would it be before he was free of the drug'sunpleasant aftereffects? He saw Leila glance furtively at him from the benchwhere she was sitting, then she lowered her lashes and quickly resumed braidingher hair, her exquisitejawlineset obstinately as ifshe was damned and determined to ignore him.
"Those men outside the door are my own knights,"he sought to explain as he snatched a towel from the floor and slung it aroundhis hips. "Remember? I told you about them last night."
Silence.
"They'll be traveling with us to Westminster. Itold thetaverneryou were my wife, and he hasobviously informed them of that, but I'll set them straight when I introduceyou."
More silence.
Guy swallowed hard, acutely aware of what she must bethinking about him. If she had hated him before, he could well imagine how muchshe hated him now. He wanted to try and explain what had come over him lastnight, but she probably didn't care to hear any explanations. Maybe an apology. . .
"Leila, I'm sorry about—"
"'Tisdone," shecut him off, meeting his eyes fully for the first time. "There is nothingmore to be said about it, Lord deWarenne."
Ah, but there was more to be said about it, Guythought, seeing the hurt and defiance reflected in her unswerving gaze. Muchmore.
Everything was different between them now, whether sherealized it or not. He had reached a decision last night before the drugovercame him. He had almost told her then; he certainly couldn't tell her now.Not with his knights pacing restlessly outside the door. It was a delicatematter, one that would have to wait until they were not pressed for time orlikely to be disturbed.
He could already imagine her indignant protests. Butwhen she heard everything he had to say, his argument would sway her. He wascertain of it. Just as he was certain he did not want to live his life withouther. She had become a part of him. He could not let her go.
"You might want to do something about thatbedsheet," she continued tersely, glancing behind himat the mattress. "I doubt you will want your knights to see what hasrecently transpired in this room, especially when they discover that I am notyour wife."
Guy's eyes riveted on the bright red splotches stainingthe white linen.
Sharp regret shot through him for her lost innocence,and even more so because he had taken it from her in such a ruthless manner.But in the next instant he forced away his guilt and any nigglingself-reproach, convinced that what had happened unexpectedly between them hadfreed him from an impossible dilemma.
He was in love with Leila.
He had known it since that afternoon on the Rhone, andevery mile they had traveled after that had driven home his realization withastounding force. Yet he had tried to tell himself over and over that his wasan impossible love. Leila hated him too much and, even if she didn't, Rogerwould never give his suit the time of day. Now that much at least had changed.
As soon as they reached London he would confront Rogerwith the bloodied sheet and demand Leila's hand in marriage. By taking hervirginity, he had made his inviolable claim upon her.
