Warwolfe (de Wolfe Pack Book 0)(51)

Ghislaine was looking up at Gaetan, trembling in his grip. “Does he really want to kill me?”

Tears filled her eyes when she said it and Gaetan could see, at that instant, that she did not see this as a joke. She saw it as a very big man trying to kill her, her enemy. Gaetan shouldn’t have felt anything towards her at that moment but he did; he felt a great deal of pity for her. She was frightened and they were all making a joke about it.

But it wasn’t funny anymore.

Gaetan had been watching her all evening as she sat with their hostess, Lady Gunnora, and the truth was that it was difficult for him to take his eyes off of her. Something about Ghislaine was drawing him to her more and more but it was interest unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. He’d known beautiful women – he owned beautiful women – but Ghislaine was different. There was something about this serious, courageous woman that had captured something inside of him. He wasn’t sure what yet, but she stirred something within him, and right now he was feeling a good deal of compassion for her fear.

And a good deal of protectiveness.

“Nay, he does not,” he answered after a moment, his voice soft with sympathy. “He is making a joke with you because he does not believe you can fight. I know better, but he does not. If it frightens you, I will not let him do this.”

I know better, but he does not. Ghislaine could see Gaetan’s respect for her in his eyes as he said those words, respect that he’d never shown her before. It was so strange how those few words suddenly dashed her fear for the most part, fortifying her because she realized that Gaetan had faith in her.

She blinked away her tears, looking at de Russe standing a few feet away, toying with the sword in his hand. It occurred to her that if she fought de Russe, even in jest, then it might make Gaetan’s knights respect her just a little as well. Perhaps they would even talk to her. As Jathan had said, these men had fought together for many years and there was an inherent respect for one another because of it. They knew what each man was capable of. But they didn’t know what she was capable of. She’d spent the entire meal marveling at their bond, even being jealous of it.

Perhaps this was her chance to earn a little of their respect, too.

“I will fight him,” she said, sniffling. Then her gaze returned to Gaetan. “And I shall win.”

“Are you certain?”

“I am.”

Gaetan could see that she was dead serious. She’d overcome that fear he’d seen in her eyes and now all he saw was determination. It had happened quickly, like a flame being doused, but there was no doubt that she would now meet de Russe head-on. It was a rather astonishing transformation but one he admired. He couldn’t help the lick of a smile that crossed his lips.

“I believe you.”

With that, he moved back to the table and pulled out his own coin purse. As his men were vying for control of the pot, he slapped a gold coin right into the middle of it.

“That is for the lady’s win,” he said.

His men looked at him with some astonishment as more coins began to come forth, turning the pile on the table into a significant sum. De Wolfe had upped the ante and his men responded in kind. De Russe, meanwhile, could see what was happening and his brow furrowed as he marched over to the table to see that Gaetan had bet against him.

“You do not think I can subdue her?” he asked Gaetan, incredulous.

Gaetan had to fight off the giggles at the sight of Aramis’ insulted face. “I think you can try.”

Aramis scowled. “You are going to lose your money, de Wolfe.”

Gaetan thought it was quite humorous to toy with Aramis’ pride, which was considerable. “We shall see.”

In a huff, Aramis turned back to Ghislaine, who had set the sword down and had pulled out her dagger. It wasn’t a big dagger and certainly a lot smaller than the sword that Aramis held. He looked at her in disbelief.

“Is that what you intend to use?” he demanded.

Ghislaine nodded. “Aye, my lord.”

Exasperated, Aramis shook his head. “Then you are either the bravest woman alive or the most foolish,” he said, lifting the sword defensively. “Then let us get about this, my lady.”

“Make your move, my lord.”

Aramis couldn’t believe it. Was she actually challenging him? Shaking his head in disbelief, he lifted his sword and headed straight at Ghislaine, who was simply standing there with her dagger in her hand. He took about five steps when she suddenly fell to her knees, well under his range, and latched on to his left leg.

As Aramis faltered because Ghislaine threw him off balance, she wedged herself between his legs and brought the dagger to bear straight up, pointing right into his manhood. Aramis was forced to freeze in position because he could feel the tip of the blade through his trousers. Moreover, she had her free hand braced against his left buttock so if she truly wanted to ram that dagger into his privates, it would give her the leverage to do it.

In less than a few seconds, he was beaten and he knew it. Damnation, he knew it all too well. His sword clattered to the ground and he lifted his hands slowly in surrender.

“I concede, my lady,” he said steadily. “I have yet to have a son, so I would be grateful if that dagger did not go any further.”

It was a swift and clever victory on the part of Ghislaine and, after a moment’s disbelief at what she had done, the table of knights and half of the room erupted in cheers and laughter. Other men had seen what had happened and their laughter joined the knights’.