I could not raise my eyes from his collarbones any more than I could answer his question, because the truth was a family secret.
I knew the story well.
Nineteen years ago, Lady Giselle’s brother, Jacques, had visited these vineyards. Giselle adored her handsome brother, who was charming and reckless—or so she described him to me. At the same time, she had a beautiful lady’s maid named Coraline, of whom she had grown fond.
Upon his visit, Jacques seduced Coraline, and as soon as he learned she was with child, he fled. For a marriage to a wealthy wool merchant’s daughter had already been arranged for him.
When Lord Jean learned of Coraline’s condition, he ordered that she be dismissed, but for the first time, Giselle went against him, begging that Coraline be allowed to remain. Such a state of affairs was unheard of…to keep a pregnant woman as a lady’s maid.
In the end, Giselle won, for she seldom asked him for anything, and though Lord Jean did not spend much time with her, in his heart, he liked to please her.
I was born.
At first, out of guilt, my father sent Coraline some money, but he never visited or took any action to see me and remained at his home with his new wife. When I was two years old, he drank too much wine and took up a challenge to ride one of his horses in a race.
In his drunken state, he fell off over a jump and was killed.
When I was five, a fever passed through our lands, and some of our household, including my mother, died.
I had no parents, and I was alone.
Lord Jean might not have noticed my existence had I been given to the kitchen women and raised as a servant. But Lady Giselle had only given birth to sons, and she had come to love me. She insisted I be raised as her ward, calling me her niece in private.
Again, Lord Jean protested, seeing me as the bastard child of a lady’s maid, certainly not worthy of the title of ward in the house of de Marco. But again, Giselle prevailed. I grew up as her companion; not exactly a niece, but neither was I a servant. I had duties for her, but I ate with the family and wore the fine clothing of a noble.
All was well until I turned fifteen and the house guards began watching me enter a room. Of course they did not dare speak to me, but this was a forerunning of things to come. At that time, I was allowed to join dinners when we had guests, but then, during a visit from the Larues, the second son of Lord Alan Larue stared at me over the table. A week later, he asked Lord Jean for my hand in marriage—with no questions regarding my birth. Lord Jean thought it an astonishing offer and wanted to accept, but Lady Giselle pleaded that at fifteen, I was too young.
After that, she stopped including me at dinner when we had guests. She kept me to herself, and I loved our quiet time together. For she often fell into sadness, and I knew how to distract her, how to make her smile. She promised she would keep me safe.
And now…three years later, I was in a corridor, alone with a strange nobleman who continued demanding answers.
“Who was your father?” Royce repeated.
No matter that Giselle called me her niece in private, I would never expose her beloved brother as a seducer of women or a man who abandoned unwanted children.
So I whispered, “I do not know.”
Before I knew what was happening, he grasped my chin and forced me to look up at him. Though his grip did not hurt, he allowed me to feel some of the strength in his hand. His eyes were a shade of light brown.
“What do you mean you don’t know? If you’re the de Marcos’ ward, how is that possible?” He didn’t sound angry, only confused. “Who was your mother?”
Wanting him to let me go, I tried to meet his gaze and answered, “Lady Giselle’s maid.”
He let go and stepped back.
I hadn’t told him the whole truth, but enough to give him an understanding. No matter what Giselle called me, I was the illegitimate child of a servant.
I was no one, not worth his attention.
Whirling, I hurried for the west stairwell.
* * * *
The next morning, Lady Giselle sent word to my room, informing me I would be expected at breakfast, but I was not concerned. By now, Royce would have told his father of my low status, and they would not notice me. Besides, the men would be focused on the land deal, not upon any women at the table.
I wore my hair down and donned a muslin dress of a shade my lady called ice blue, the same color as my eyes. All of the day dresses or evening gowns she had made for me were either white or this same shade of light blue. She said the colors suited me, and she sometimes enjoyed dressing me and trying different styles with my hair.
My own private room was near to Lady Giselle’s apartments, and as I reached her door, I found it open, suggesting she had already gone down.
“My lady?” I asked from the doorway.
Silence told me she was not there.
Quickly, I made my way to the stairwell and descended to the main floor. Upon arriving at the dining hall, I found everyone from last night had already gathered—with the exception of Lucas and Geoffrey. Would they not be attending? Perhaps they were not necessary for the business dealings this morning.
Then why had I been asked?
Royce stood apart with his arms crossed, and he appeared to be watching the archway as I entered. At the sight of me, he went still and gave me the same fixed attention from last night, taking in my long silver-blond hair and light blue gown. But this morning, I was beginning to recognize the expression on his face; it looked like hunger.
“She’s here,” he said. “We can begin.”
Two things about these statements puzzled me. First, was he the one who’d requested my presence this morning? Why? And second…breakfast had not even been served yet. Did he wish to conduct the business dealing before eating?
Lord Jean seemed equally nonplussed, but he gestured to the table. “By all means.”
I could see that he didn’t care when or how these dealings took place, so long as he acquired the land.
Walking over, I greeted my lady and sat beside her. Lord Trey and Royce sat across from us, and Lord Jean took his place at the head.
As of yet, we’d not even been served tea.
Lord Jean began immediately. “I’ll pay two thousand in silver for the land. That’s more than what it’s worth and a fair offer.”
Royce studied him. “I’m willing to take fifteen hundred.” Then he motioned to me with his head. “But I want the girl.”
I went cold.
Lord Trey turned to his son in open surprise.
Lord Jean frowned.
Lady Giselle stiffened, and she spoke first. “My lord,” she said to Royce. “I don’t understand. You cannot be asking for Kara’s hand as you already have a wife. You were married eight years ago, and to the best of my knowledge, the lady Loraine still lives.”
Royce turned his cold gaze upon her. “You need not remind me of my marital status.”
Lord Jean’s frown deepened. “Then what are you asking?”
Royce leaned back in his chair. “I want the girl.”
At this, all polite pretense vanished from my lady’s voice. “As what? Your mistress? You’ll set her up in some cottage near your manor until you grow tired of her? I think not!”
They