Destiny's Kiss Read Free

what? What had she done that was so appalling Madame had turned her punishment over to him?
    Lirienne’s hand rose to cradle her aching cheek. She said nothing as he watched Madame close the door.
    â€œYou shall never change,” he murmured, and Lirienne knew he was not speaking to her. “You think only of your pleasures. Mayhap we are not so alike, after all.” All amusement left his voice as he turned to her. “Sit.”
    She chose the nearest bench, although Madame forbade the servants from using the furniture meant only for their betters. When she looked up, she wondered if he had grown to twice his impressive height. His head seemed to brush the blue and indigo ceiling paintings.
    â€œDo you know who I am?” He folded his arms, and she sensed he was uneasy. She could not guess why, but suspected she would find out soon.
    â€œYes.” Under other circumstances, she might have laughed. How many nights had her dreams been haunted by his face? Then he had been smiling as his mouth neared hers. His hands had been strong, but as gentle as a mother’s.
    â€œName!”
    â€œExcuse me, mon seigneur ?” She flushed as his question shattered her silly fantasies. “’Tis Lirienne Gautier.”
    He cursed under his breath. “No! Tell me my name.”
    â€œPhilippe de Villeneuve. Vicomte de Vi—”
    â€œEnough. At least, you have more wit than the previous girl. She never seemed able to recall as much as my name.” He began to pace.
    Folding her hands in her lap, she tried to guess why he was agitated. He fired the next question at her so viciously, she flinched.
    â€œAre you married?”
    â€œNo, mon seigneur .”
    â€œBetrothed?”
    â€œNo, mon seigneur .”
    Stopping in front of her, he crossed his arms over his chest again. A hint of a smile curved his taut mouth. “No lover, Lirienne?”
    â€œNo, mon seigneur .” She lowered her eyes as heat edged up her cheeks. Was this a horrible jest he and Madame had devised? She could imagine no other reason for him to ask. He could not be interested in seducing her, for Madame would not allow her lovers to be unfaithful. If the vicomte was taunting her, he was not the man she had thought he was.
    His mouth twisted into a caricature of a smile. “Then you are perfect, Lirienne.”
    â€œPerfect?”
    â€œHow would you like to better yourself in exchange for doing a favor for me?”
    â€œIt would depend on the favor, mon seigneur .”
    â€œDepend on the favor?” His eyes became sapphire slits. “You do have some wit. Mayhap too much.”
    He reached toward her. She stiffened, afraid she would pull back or, worse, reach out to him as if to give her dreams life. Lifting her loose braid off her shoulder, he laced his fingers through it. His other hand cupped her chin and tilted her face toward him. The rough caress against her skin was the sweetest she could imagine.
    â€œSay ‘yes,’” he ordered.
    â€œTo what?”
    â€œTo what I ask.”
    â€œBut I do not know what you ask.”
    â€œI ask you to be my wife.”
    Lirienne stood, staring at him. What had unhinged his mind? When his eyes narrowed again, she held her breath. When she had been young, a madman had come into the stables one night. Her father had been able to slay him only after the madman had killed two other men and injured nearly a dozen.
    â€œWhere are you going?” the vicomte demanded.
    â€œI—” If he were mad, he might focus the fury in his eyes on her.
    He laughed. “Sit. I assure you I am not deranged.”
    â€œBut to ask me to marry you?”
    â€œAmazing, is it not?” His smile became a scowl. “These are, as even you must know, amazing times. So what is your answer?”
    She gripped her skirt. Through countless nights on her lumpy pallet, she had imagined when a man might ask her to marry. Each time, he had the vicomte