“I don’t blame you for being angry.” She didn’t know what else to say to him.
He came up to her and stood a breath away. “You don’t blame me? How gracious of you, m’lady.”
She stared into his eyes looking for redemption. Her heart sank. There was no glimmer of warmth. No room for any forgiveness. Now she understood Isabella’s question just days ago. What will you surrender, forfeit for your treasure hunt? She had surrendered her heart but forfeited so much more – her happiness. She loved him, but now all was lost.
Regret, numb and cold, sent shivers down her spine. How she longed to have taken a different path. There was no way to make this right.
In a cavalier manner, she gave a nod and turned away from him.
He stood where he was, seething.
Her only thought was creating distance.
She packed the food and tucked it away in the satchel on his horse. Without a word, she mounted Ebony and walked her across the river. She had no idea if where she crossed was safe or not, and at the moment, she didn’t care.
Before she reached the middle of the river, Donald grabbed the horse’s bridle and led them to the other side.
“Where do you think you’re going?” He still held the horse.
“Please, let us go. You can return to England as you planned. I won’t ask anything more of you.”
“What type of man do you think I am that would leave a defenseless woman in the middle of nowhere? Do you think that little of me? What have I done to deserve such cruel judgement?”
Her skin went cold at his accusations. She sat and took his harsh words as her punishment. Before she could think of a reply, he pulled the horse along.
“I will take you to the comte. That is as far as I will go.”
They rode hard the rest of the day. She didn’t know whether to be happy or cry when the wall of Saint-Pol-sur-Ternoise came into view.
The castle grounds were a riot of activity with people hurrying about. When they reached the castle, she dismounted, shook out her skirt, adjusted her hair, and flinched when he took her arm.
Chapter Ten
They rode in silence. Donald did not trust himself to speak. He was aware she kept information from him to ensure he would accompany her. But that had all changed when they were attacked.
Didn’t she understand this wasn’t a treasure hunt at some court for entertainment? It had turned into a deadly game.
She was frightened, he knew. But her determination to go on had to be admired. That didn’t take away the ache in his chest when she closed herself off from him. He wanted to take her in his arms and make everything go away, but that would not change the course she had set for them.
With every mile they gained, Andrea withdrew more and more. He had no idea how to bring her back. He was angry with her, but that didn’t mean he loved her any less.
At the castle, before he could assist her, Andrea dismounted by herself. She flinched at his touch, smashing any hope of reconciliation. If she wanted no part of him, so be it.
He asked for an audience with the comte and gave the man the sealed letter from the bishop. They had barely taken a seat in the solar when the door opened and a well-dressed man entered, the letter they brought him still in his hand.
“Lord Eden, Mademoiselle Ricard.” He gave a nod. “You have impressed the bishop. Not an easy accomplishment. You are both welcome here.”
“You abandoned me at a time like this.” A lovely woman floated into the room. “The last thing I want to do is sit with Father and his friends. The lanterns were in the middle of the great hall. I had them placed in front of each window. I want the hall to look inviting and warm when you look back at the castle from the garden.” She glanced at Donald, then Andrea. “Are these the bishop’s friends? Of course, they are. Have you asked them to join us this evening?”
“Yes, Marie, they are the bishop’s friends, Lord Donald Eden and Mademoiselle Andrea Ricard. And no, I haven’t invited them. I was about to when you came in.” He stepped to the side and gestured for her to speak.
“I’m so glad you’re here. You’ve come at an excellent time. Guy and I are to be married. Father has come to make the arrangements,” said the future comtesse. “We are having a small banquet and I hope you both will join us.”
“That is very kind of you, but we’re not prepared.”
Donald almost flinched at Andrea’s etiquette blunder. One couldn’t turn down a comte’s invitation. Even he knew that.
The comte covered his mouth to muffle a cough. “I’m sure they both are tired.” He came to their rescue. “They must have been riding for six or seven hours.”
“M’lady,” Donald stepped forward. “We would be honored to celebrate with you and your father. But we leave early in the morning for Calais, and neither of us are prepared to dine with you and the Duke of Brittany.”
“I thought your trunks were behind you.”
She was a clever woman to put them at ease and temper the situation. Donald gave the comte an appreciative smile. The bridegroom absorbed the compliment with grace.
“That’s not a problem. Guy, while you find something to fit his lordship,” Marie turned toward Andrea, “I will provide Andrea with a gown.”
Donald glanced at Andrea. The smile was back on her face where it belonged.
“We’re about the same size and proportions.” Marie stood next to her. “I have a gown that will look wonderful on you. You can pick out what you like then rest.”
Marie and Andrea left, leaving the comte and Donald standing in the center of the solar not quite sure what had happened.
“Lord Eden.”
Donald lifted his face toward the comte.
“Any relation to Lord Hugh
