Free Written on Silk by Linda Lee Chaikin Page B

would compound his dilemma.
    As she stood, considering, she heard the servant’s voice, followed by footsteps, then Fabien’s question as he entered the grande salle. She hurried across the polished floor, her dark blue skirts swishing, and paused before the archway done in tiles of pale blue with a yellow floral pattern.
    The grande salle was the largest room in the château, with a vaulted ceiling and chandeliers that now were only partially lit. Large Florentine tapestries lined the cream wall facing the archway.
    Fabien was waiting for her. He cut a striking figure, garbed in a rugged outfit of leather and woolen cloth. His boots were buckled, his scabbard jeweled, the hat he carried was wide brimmed and sweeping. Was he dressed for travel?
    As Rachelle set the candleholder on a table, her reaction was one of relief. He had returned safely! She attempted to deny her suspicions, but as he turned and his eyes met hers, alarm began to creep into her heart.
    It grew as she came to meet him, for she sensed his deliberation.
    She paused, curbing her intent to flee to the strength and safety of his strong embrace. She had known since Vendôme, and even before, that he intended to take to sea, and waited for a covert message to arrive from the French buccaneers. He had never told her just who these “buccaneers” were, but she knew he had gone to meet one of them two weeks ago, and she believed his present behavior was related to that meeting.
    She lifted her chin and hurried to him, smiling, determined she would not lose him, not now; not after the struggle to win his heart. She reminded herself that no other woman had done so. She was the first, and she was not going to release him now.
    “Fabien.” She hurried to him and clutched his rough tunic as though she would never let him go again. “Thank goodness you are not hurt. Why did you go to the inn? I was so worried.”
    “Have you not had enough to worry you this day?” he asked gently.
    “But you and Gallaudet — do you think you should have gone there? Word is bound to find its way to Duc de Guise. When he learns of it — ”
    “When he learns of it and wishes to answer for his evil deeds, he will know the man to seek.”
    She stared at him, her frustration growing. If anything happened to him . . .
    “But to challenge two of the duc’s soldiers! The man is afflicted with madness, surely. Why else would he go about seeking Huguenot assemblies to put to the sword? He hunts Huguenots like the king hunts rabbits!”
    “He is not mad. He knows exactly what he is doing, working hand in hand with the deliberate purposes of Spain and Rome. Who told you I went to the inn?”
    Rachelle read the glint of impatience in his violet-blue gaze.
    “Mathieu, a Bible scholar from Geneva. He arrived a short while ago bringing Bertrand a message from my père Arnaut. The student was at the inn when you arrived. He saw you. Fabien, do you not understand?” She reached again for the rough woolen sleeves of his tunic, as though by sheer determination she could hold him forever. “Now Guise will be against you more than ever.”
    His indomitable manner only frustrated her. He spoke in a calm voice, “Is that why you would not tell me earlier that it was Guise’s men that attacked?”
    “I was afraid you would ride after him. And as I feared, you sought him out. You might have been — been injured or taken prisoner.”
    He seemed surprised at her intensity. “Rachelle, ma chérie — please. He is an enemy and has been long before I met you at Chambord. He is responsible for the death of Jean-Louis,” he said of his father. “Now he has added more crimes to his conscience, if he has one.” He gently removed her clutching fingers and brought them to his lips. There was something in his watchful gaze that was both unsettling and confusing to her wearied emotions. Did he think she was being possessive?
    “Gallaudet learned that two of Guise’s men were at the inn. I went