Page 398 of Historical Hotties
His expression was guarded. “And you are not?”
She was puzzled, even hurt by the question. “What do you mean?”
Bastian wasn’t even sure he should mention it but he could not back down now; after everything they’d been through, it seemed like such a trivial thing. But his feelings for her were coming out and he wanted to be clear on something that had been lingering in the back of his mind. He had to ask.
“Maxim de Shera,” he murmured. “Did you not give the man your heart, once?”
Gisella was caught off-guard by the question; she had not expected such a thing, especially at this moment. “Who told you this?” she asked.
“Gloucester.”
Gisella understood more now. She wondered if Bastian had been harboring jealousy of a dead man as she had evidently been harboring jealousy for a dead woman. Oddly, the question touched her because it meant Bastian felt more emotion for her than she’d given him credit for. If he was asking, then he was concerned, and if he was concerned, then everything he just told her– his love for her– meant something to her. It meant more than she could imagine.
“Nay,” she finally said, quietly. “I did not give him my heart. It was an infatuation and nothing more.”
He thought on her statement, more relieved than he cared to admit. “Then in answer to your question,” he said softly, “if I discovered you were carrying around the heart of another man, I should be quite devastated.”
She could feel his brutal honesty and it touched her. She blinked and the tears rolled down her cheeks. “That is how I feel,” she murmured. “Devastated.”
He went to her, taking a knee beside the chair so they were nearly at eye level. He gazed into those pale, sad, blue eyes and gently reached out to collect a soft white hand, laying limp in her lap. Gisella didn’t resist as he put her hand to his lips, closing his eyes as he kissed it. Tears started rolling down his cheeks, too.
“I am sorry if I hurt you,” he confessed, his lips against her flesh. “I never meant to hurt you and I never meant to make you feel as if I have lied to you. I swear upon my oath as a knight that I did not love the Maid of Orleans. I have never loved anyone but you.”
Gisella burst into tears and Bastian let go of her hand, pulling her into his arms. She didn’t resist, wrapping her arms around his neck, squeezing the life from him as they wept together, both of them so very shattered by the turn of events. Gisella could feel her opposition to him fading, her hurt dissolving away as he held her. To feel his arms around her once more, safe and strong and reassuring, dashed away any doubt or reservation she still held.
He loved her.
“As I love you,” she whispered, kissing his ear gently because it was the closest thing to her lips. “I cannot remember when I have not loved you. I am so sorry for what I said Bastian… you did not kill your father. I did not mean it.”
He held her tightly before releasing her, taking her head in his big hands and kissing her face, trying not to disturb her lovely, black veil. “All is forgiven,” he murmured between kisses. “I know you did not mean it.”
Gisella put her soft hands on his cheeks, watching him as he kissed her fingers, her palms. “I am so sorry for your father,” she whispered. “He was a lovely man. I am so glad that I was able to know him in the short time we had.”
More tears ran from his eyes and Gisella wiped them away tenderly. “I miss him already,” he said hoarsely, relishing her gentle touch. “But I am very glad he was able to know you. That means the world to me.”
Gisella struggled to stop her tears, wiping his face of tears more than she was wiping away her own.
“He was very proud of you,” she said softly. “He loved you a great deal. But I take comfort in something Sparrow said at his passing– she said that she cannot be sad for a man who is now happy with his wife in the afterlife. That is how I am trying to look at it.”
Bastian nodded. “He has missed her all these years, very much,” he said as she dried the last of his tears. “I missed her, too, but I never understood the depths of his longing until I married you. Now, I understand completely and I am very happy they are together again for I know, most certainly, that I would not want to live without you.”
Gisella smiled bravely and he cupped her face, kissing her tenderly. It was the best kiss he had ever known, something that meant more to him than any similar gesture he had ever experienced. Gazing into her lovely, tired eyes, he felt better than he had in days. He felt fortified again, drawing strength from her. All was right in his world again.
“We must bury my father today,” he said softly. “Then we shall discuss making a journey to Winchester to bury the Maid’s heart. The sooner I bury it, the better for us all. I do not want anyone else trying to come after it, or me. My father’s death is too high a price to pay for this relic. It is time to be done with it.”
“Sir Bastian?”
The voice came from the doorway to the reception room and they both turned to see Henry standing there. Bastian felt a bolt of shock roll through him at the sight of the king. He thought that he and Gisella had been quite alone but now he realizedthey’d had an audience. Much had been said between them that a curious young king could hear, which worried him. Stiffly, he rose.
“I thought you were helping Lady Sparrow in the kitchen, Your Grace,” he said, hoping his tone didn’t reflect the displeasure he felt.
Henry’s eyes were big on him as he stepped hesitantly into the room. “I… I was helping her,” he said. “But she said to find a servant so that we could have a blanket, but… but I found you instead.”
“Indeed you have.”
Henry kept coming, walking towards Bastian with an expression between apprehension and interest on his face. He finally came to a halt next to Bastian, gazing up into the man’s eyes. It was obvious that there was much on his young mind. He timidly pointed to the doorway he had just come from and then pointed to Gisella.
“I heard what you said,” he said. “I did not mean to listen, but I did not want to interrupt you so I heard what you said. Is it true you have the heart of the Maid and that she asked you to bury it at Winchester Cathedral?”
