La Flamme (Historical Romance) by Constance O'Banyon

Author:Constance O'Banyon [O'Banyon, Constance]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical, Romance, Fiction, France, Year 1630, European Renaissance, LA FLAMME, Adult, Adventure, Action, Kings Command, Wedding, Pledge, Family Betrayed, Parisian Actress, Husband, Marriage, Destroy, Mystery, Suspense, Alluring, Sensual
ISBN: 9780061082306
Goodreads: 5900406
Publisher: Montlake Romance; Reprint Edition
Published: 2015-06-20T04:00:00+00:00

19

Garreth was waiting for La Flamme beside his coach. When she came out of the theater, she was dressed in a white velvet gown with slashed sleeves inlaid with gold. Around the hem of the skirt were dozens of tiny golden rosebuds.

He became irritated when she was immediately surrounded by admirers. She smiled to each of them and exchanged greetings. At last she was beside him, and he opened the door and whisked her inside.

When the coach pulled away, they could still hear the loud chant of those who revered her: "La Flamme! La Flamme!"

Sabine was very aware of Garreth's irritation. He was so near her that she could feel his breath stir her hair. A strange yearning came over her, and she had an urge to lay her head against his shoulder and have him hold her as he once had. She looked down at the hand that rested on his knee. It was the hand of a gentleman, long tapered fingers, with strength she could only imagine.

She was glad that the coach lights were dim so Garreth could not see how badly her hands were trembling. She stuffed them into her white velvet muff and turned to face him.

"Your countrymen have made you famous," Garreth said, still annoyed for reasons he could not say. "I had even heard of you in England. Mostly from Stephen, I admit. Before I met you, I was skeptical that anyone could be as exceptional as he claimed you were."

"And now?"

"I agree with him." The way Garreth said the words, they did not sound like a compliment. "How does it feel to be adored by so many?"

"I have little interest in such absurdities, Your Grace. I only care to give a good performance. I owe no one more than that."

"Your Jacques de Baillard is also famous in my country—there are many who speak well of him. You mentioned the night we met that his acting troupe has been invited to perform for Queen Henrietta—will you come to London?"

Sabine put on the face of a coquette and drew her white muff across his face flirtatiously. "I do not know. It has not yet been decided."

He clasped her hand and took the muff from her, tossing it on the seat. "I would like to show you England."

"Jacques makes those decisions, not I. If he says we go, then I shall go."

"Why did you agree to dine with me tonight?"

"I'm not sure I know." She gave him her most beguiling smile. "Perhaps it is because of your extraordinary charm."

His hand moved to her chin, and he turned her to face him. "Do you mock me?"

"I," she said with exaggerated surprise, "who am merely a helpless woman, mock a great titled gentleman like yourself? I would not dare."

His hand moved to the side of her face, and he brought her further into the light so he could see her eyes. No woman had ever held him so captivated. "It is my belief that you are merely toying with me, and I don't know why.

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