“Others? No.” Isabeau’s words end with a deep growl.
“Toyou, Isa. I want to make you feel this way, no one else, Your Grace. Only you, Isabeau.”
The Duke of Maudite smiles. “I like my name on your lips.”
“I like your lips on my body.”
Isabeau stares at me in seeming shock for a moment, and then she barks a laugh. “I will ask the countess for your hand, Gabrielle Fleuriste. I will ask the queen. I will—”
“Askme, perhaps?”
“Fine. I’ll ask you again and again, too. And if you try to say no, I will seduce you over and over until you cannot refuse me.” Isabeau stares at me with a still hungry gaze.
I roll my eyes. “Oh no. How awful for me!”
Isabeau’s eyes darken with a familiar glint. “I will seduce you either way. Every way. You will never want to leave me.”
“I never have wanted to leave you. I was trying to protect you from worry, from lacking an heir, from being a widow too young,” I try to explain. “I was afraid you wouldn’t want me if you knew my future.”
“Protect my heart, love, by letting me love you. That’s all I need.” Isabeau stares at me with the intensity that makes others think she is dangerous.
“Love me, then. I am yours.”
“I do love you,” Isabeau says.
“I know.” I feel my cheeks burn. “You’ve said as much to me, but the Hunter has better hearing than regular people. I heard you tell my mother. You would not lie to her.”
I stand and scoop up a blanket from the stack nearest Clatterbuck. We could go into the house, but I want to stay right where we are, existin this small bubble. The monsters are asleep, and I am dressed enough for anyone who would come into the stable.
I feel Isabeau’s gaze locked on me as I spread a blanket over a few broken bales of hay. I pat it.
“I am not tired,” Isabeau objects. “I will stand guard and—”
“My home is safe, Isabeau. This is theHunter’shome, and it has been for generations.” I stretch out. “Come stay with me.”
Isabeau stands for a moment before awkwardly reclining.
After a moment I ease closer and rest my head on her chest.
“I have not done this.” Isabeau’s voice is barely more than a whisper. “Held someone to sleep after ...”
“I will expect more of this,” I say sleepily. “I like it.”
“I like it, too,” Isabeau whispers.
“Then we will do this after I touch you, too,” I announce, and then I close my eyes in her arms as I rest. The monster is still out there. Isabeau is still cursed—or being drugged or sick somehow. I don’t know, but I will.
Despite that, everything seems easier now that I have told her my secret. Nothing can tear me away from her. Not now. Not this time.
Chapter 28
“But if one put a slight upon them, or in any way incurred their displeasure, they were not slow in taking revenge.”
—The Folk-Lore of the North-East of Scotlandby Walter Gregor [1881]
The cost of spending the night hunting the beast is that I sleep longer than I intend, and when I wake, Isabeau is staring back at me with something like wonder on her face. She takes my mouth in a kiss that threatens to roll toward more, but I pull away.
Gently, I remind her, “I have a monster to hunt.”
