They rode in silence the entire day, and when evening came the coach stopped at a comfortable-looking inn. Despite the elegance of their equipage, only one room could be given them, for the inn was crowded. Adam offered to sleep in the stables with the outriders, but Skye would not hear of it.

"I think that we can share a bed platonically," she said, and he nodded.

"I think you only agree to let me in your room so you will have someone to maid you," he teased her gently. Skye had refused to take a girl from Beaumont to be her servant. She was not so helpless, she had declared, that she could not care for herself the relatively short time of their journey. Once they were at Archambault, Adam's mother would see she had someone to care for her.

They ate a simple country meal of roasted duck, artichokes with olive oil and tarragon vinegar, new bread, a soft cheese, and a bowl of early cherries. The innkeeper served them a smooth, rich Burgundy wine with their meal. Afterward they watched as a troupe of gypsies played and danced in the courtyard for the guests' coins.

When the gypsies had finally disappeared back to their encampment, Adam and Skye climbed the stairs to the inn's second floor where their room was situated. It was a cheerful, airy chamber overlooking the moonlit fields. There was a fireplace in which a small fire burned to ward off the evening's chill, a chair, and a big, comfortable bed with blue and white linen hangings. The bed had been opened by a maid, and beckoned them enticingly. Their coachman had brought Skye a small trunk that he told her contained the things she would need on her journey. 'The Duchesse Madelaine packed them herself for you, madame."

"You know the duchesse?" Skye queried him, curious.

"Ah, yes, madame. My wife is her tiring woman. We came with her from Monaco."

"Your mistress knew that I was the last Duchesse of Beaumont?"

"Yes, madame."

"You will thank her for me when you return to Beaumont de Jaspre. Her kindness is appreciated."

Skye thought about Nicolas's young wife as she opened the tiny trunk and lifted out a simple white silk nightgown. She was far wiser and more mature than Nicolas suspected. Skye smiled. Nicolas, although he didn't know it, was in very good hands, and Beaumont de Jaspre was going to prosper.

"What are you smiling about, little girl?"

She looked up at him. "Nothing, Adam. Just a woman's thoughts. Will you unhook my gown?" She felt his big hands gently undoing the fastenings.

“There," he said when he had finally undone the last of them. Adam hadn't realized the effort it would take on his part not to touch her. Am I a ravening beast, he questioned himself, that I cannot undo her gown for her without wanting to make love to her? Dear God, he loved her so very much! He wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her. He wanted to drive away all the bad times in her life, and make her remember only the good. Slowly he turned away and began to undress himself, pulling from his saddlebags a white silk nightshirt that he rarely wore. Tonight, however, it would be best to have as much as he could put between himself and Skye. When he turned back to her she was seated on the edge of the bed brushing her long black hair with a gold brush. "Would you rather I slept on the floor, little girl?" he asked in what he hoped passed for an impersonal voice. "I could easily wrap myself in the coverlet, and with a pillow for my head I should be quite comfortable."

The floor is damp," she said, looking up at him with a smile. Then her eyes widened, and Skye giggled.

Adam looked puzzled. "What is it?" he asked.

"You're wearing a nightshirt!" she exclaimed, amused.

"You're wearing a nightgown," he countered.

"I've never seen you in a nightshirt," she answered.

"I never felt the need to wear one with you, Skye," he said solemnly.

She thought a moment, and then said, "Oh," in a small voice, and her teeth caught at her bottom lip.

"I’ll sleep on the floor," he said.

"No, Adam, you'll catch your death if you do. Look! The bed is large, and comfortable." She paused a moment, then added, "And if I am not ready, or able to… to… you know what it is I say; we are two grown people who surely can control our passions. I know I am being unfair, Adam, but I need you near me! Do you understand what it is I am saying?"

"Get into bed, Skye. The night has grown chill. You need your sleep, and we have an early start."

Obediently she climbed into the big bed and snuggled down beneath the warm coverlet. Bending, Adam blew out the single candle, and only the low firelight lit the room as he slipped in next to her. For some minutes they lay in silence upon their backs, each stretched out long and stiff, and then Adam quietly reached out and took her hand in his large paw. "You say nothing, and yet I can hear you screaming with your pain, little girl. Tell me now! Tell me what is in your mind and heart. Tell me before it grows so big that there is no controlling it, and you destroy yourself."

"It was all for nothing," she said, the anguish plain in her trembling voice. "It was all for nothing, Adam." She sighed, and a shudder rippled through her slender frame. "Niall is dead. He is as dead now as he was to me two years ago; but two years ago I had learned to live with it. Do you know what I have done, Adam? I have whored. I am no better than those women who inhabit the waterfront brothels in every port. I used my body, and I have been used. I did not think when I agreed to Osman's proposal that it would be so hard, and perhaps if my husband had survived it might not have been; but Niall is dead now, and I cannot reconcile myself to the fact that it has all been for nothing."

"You got him out of Morocco, Skye. He died a free man."

It was as if she did not hear him, or if she did the facts were not enough to soothe her. "Kedar," she said. "God's blood, Adam, how I hate the very sound of his name! He was Osman's nephew, and the man whose slave I was. Look at my ankle, Adam." She stuck her foot out from beneath the coverlet, and in the dim light from the fire he could see something glittering on her ankle. "Do you know what is written on the medallion of the anklet? It says, Muna, Property of Kedar. I have not yet had the time to have a smith remove it. Property of Kedar, Adam, and I was most assuredly that. My very life depended upon his goodwill. He possessed me with a ferocity I have never known, Adam. He took everything I was forced to offer, and much I did not. I spent those months in his possession, terrified that he would devour me both body and soul with his passion, with his terrible need to consume me. He did things to me, Adam, things that I did not imagine a man could do to a woman, and it was never enough! Oh, God! I shall never be free of him! The memories of him will haunt me all my life, and the memories of my beloved Niall will haunt me, too. I see now that it would have been better if I had left him to meet his end in Morocco rather than to betray the vows we made before God when we were wed. Oh, Adam! I am so lost!"

With a low growl of anger Adam climbed from the bed and flung the covers back. Gently he lifted her ankle in one hand while with the other he snapped the gold band from her leg as if it were a ribbon. Striding to the window, he threw back the shutters and flung the offensive anklet as far as he could. Then he closed the shutters again, and calmly climbed back into the bed.

Skye turned and, pressing her head into his shoulder, began to weep. Stunned, Adam wrapped his arms about her and let her cry. Tears, he knew, were a catharsis. There was nothing else he could do, for he could never completely wipe away the terrible memories she would retain of her time with Kedar. Gradually her sobs died, and her breathing evened out and she slept nesded against him. Adam also slept then, only to be awakened by piteous cries as Skye, caught in the middle of a dream, relived some of her Moroccan adventure. He did things to me, Adam, things that I did not imagine a man could do to a woman, she had said. He was both horrified and shamed by what a member of his sex had done to her. Skye was a woman to be cherished and adored. She was a good companion and a brave comrade. She had been made to be loved, and she was the best friend he had ever had. It both pained and angered him that she had suffered so.


***

It took them eight days to reach Archambault from Beaumont, and during those eight days Adam learned in detail Skye's adventures in Morocco. After that first night he had insisted that she tell him everything, and as more and more of her agony came to the surface, the less violent her nightmares became. As he listened he realized how very much he loved her. This time she was not going to get away from him, and the afternoon they neared his mother and stepfather's château through the exquisitely rolling green countryside of the Loire River Valley he told her so.

"You are going to marry me, Skye."

"I will never marry again, Adam. I have had all I can of belonging to a man. I will be my own mistress until I die. Please try to understand that, my darling."

"I understand that you have had a terrible experience, Skye, but I am determined that you will be my wife. Being married to me will not make you my property. You will always be your own woman; but you will be my wife as well. I love you, little girl. I have for so very long a time. My greatest treasures are my good name and my honor. I would bestow my name upon you."