Seduction at the Chateau (Bleu Blanc Rogue Book 1) by Delphine Roy

Author:Delphine Roy [Roy, Delphine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dragonblade Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2024-01-09T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

The strip of linen laying in the basin on the nightstand stained the water red. Antonia reached out to push the dark, damp strands of hair from Guy’s brow. At long last, the wound had stopped bleeding, and cleaning it had revealed it to be shallow. She let herself breathe more easily. Here, in the intimate dimness of his room, nothing could happen to him.

“I gather you will be bombarded with questions tomorrow, but seeing as Claudine and Baptiste must be told what Lenoir was up to, it’s hardly a matter for discretion.”

Guy nodded shortly, the candlelight drawing long shadows on his chiseled features. He was sitting on his bed, his pillow propped against the headboard, his expression solemn.

“Are you all right now?” she asked.

“You shouldn’t worry so, Antonia,” he muttered. “I’m not worth the trouble.”

“What are you talking about? When I saw him with that knife, I thought…” Unspilled tears seared her eyes. “You could have been killed.”

He didn’t contradict her. Instead, he simply took her hand and threaded his fingers with hers.

“Anyone who’s seen you and Nicolas together can see what a dear friend he is to you,” she went on, dread roiling within her, “but to die for him?”

“I owe him my life.”

The statement lingered in the air between them. Though her throat constricted again at the thought of Guy facing mortal danger, she wasn’t surprised. If he’d learned to fight in this brutal manner, he must have had a good reason to do so.

He looked down at their entwined hands. “When I returned to France, I headed straight to Paris, in order to try and reclaim my father’s deeds. The Revolutionary Tribunal had taken everything after we fled for Switzerland—his properties, his fortune. Everything.”

His tone was dull, almost factual, but not enough to conceal the emotion that simmered underneath. “I was alone, of course. Alone and lost. I would’ve been the perfect mark for someone like Lenoir, had I any real money to spend. But as it was, I didn’t need anyone to show me the way to gambling hells and… other places of ill repute.”

He abruptly dropped her hand and crossed his arms over his chest. Antonia looked away, shifting awkwardly, not knowing what to do with her arms and legs. She didn’t want to think of Guy in that sort of establishment. His expression, however, was not one of fond remembrance—quite the opposite, in fact.

“One night, I was at the same card table as Nicolas, in one of the seedier hells of Palais Royal. I thought one of the other players had cheated, challenged him to a fight, though I was in no condition to land a single punch on anyone. I was so deep in my cups I didn’t realize I was signing my own death warrant.” He shook his head. “We ended up in the street, the man had a knife… Nicolas grabbed his arm just as the blade was about to sink into my gut. If he hadn’t followed us outside, I’d have ended up a corpse on the pavement.

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