|
|
|
|
|
|
farewell? Naturally not. If her parents had insisted that she go home with them, she would have left a letter. She might have given it to Lord Llewelyn, who in concentrating on the news had forgotten it, but it was really more likely that she would simply leave it in some obvious place in his room. Walter set off for his chamber as quickly as his knee would allow. Now that he realized it hurt, he was limping again. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
At the door of the chamber, he stopped and stiffened. Candles were alight on a small table beside a tall chair, neither of which had been in his room when he left it the day before. Again his heart took a sickening drop. Was Marie lying in wait for him . . . possibly in his bed? There was movement in the shadowy corner of the room where Walter's cot stood. A dreadful impulse to take to his heels and run seized him. He had actually backed a single step from the door way when a pang in his knee warned him he could not run. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Walter's halting half step brought the shadowy figure swiftly forward with hands outstretched, crying softly, "My lord, let me help you." |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The voice brought everything instantly into place. Now Waiter recognized the chair and table as those he had seen in Lord Geoffrey's chamber. Beyond that, he knew quite well that Marie was not one to give up her furniture to another's comfort. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"My God, Sybelle," he said, "have you been waiting here for me all night?" |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
She laughed softly. "No, of course not. How could I know you would come tonight? I now sleep in the chamber that adjoins Rhiannon's, so I heard when word was brought to her that Simon had returned. Then I came here to be sure your chamber was readied for you." |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The light of the candles was behind and to the right of her now. At this hour of the night, she wore only a bedrobe. The voluminous garment concealed her figure; her hair, not confined by a headdress, glowed like molten bronze, and the edge of her cheek and the tips of her nose and chin were highlighted. Walter drew in a long breath, realizing that his passage with Marie the day before had done not the slightest good. It was not relief he needed; it was Sybelle. He knew she was not immune to desire, either. Why had she come to his room? Was it an invitation to slake both their thirsts? |
|
|
|
|
|