Atonement

Chapter 5

Fabien was enraged.

He'd been striding through the palace corridors en-route to the salons when he'd caught a glimpse of someone familiar out of one of the large, looming upstairs windows. He'd halted, his gaze wondering over Mademoiselle de Clermont's lustrous dark hair and trim figure, housed in a becoming gown of deep orange that glinted with hints of gold in the sunlight.

Unfortunately he'd also immediately recognised her escort.

Standing at the Latona fountain, his young spy had been pointing out some feature that the Duc de Cassel was not particularly interested in, because he steered her down the stairs in the direction of the lake. Fabien should have been pleased to see her with the duc, but for reasons he refused to examine too closely, a chill went down his spine when he noticed the possessive hand the duc had placed on her back. It was pure instinct that drove him to follow them, exchanging hasty words with a passing Bontemps, who'd fortuitously been in the vicinity, before cutting a path through the gardens toward the tall hedgerows.

What he stumbled upon nearly froze the blood in his veins. Cassel had a hand over Mademoiselle de Clermont's mouth, smothering her cries of protest whilst his other hand burrowed beneath her skirts. She was fighting valiantly to fend him off, hitting and shoving him, but with little success. For a slight man, Cassel fairly towered over her, making her appear unusually small and defenceless as she struggled to break free.

Fabien's mind told him that he'd been expecting this very thing to happen, that it was in Cassel's nature to force himself upon innocents. In fact, he'd even warned his newest spy that she ought to encourage his attentions. But Fabien had not known how he'd react to seeing it happen. He could not have predicted the staggering rage that swelled within him, filling him with an overwhelming desire to crush, to quell, to vanquish. He may not trust his young ingénue, but it certainly incensed him to see her assaulted.

"If you value your life," he heard himself say, his voice clipped and deathly cold, "you will let go of the lady this instant."

The duc went still, rendered inert by the sudden, unexpected intrusion. His head whipped around, his eyes narrowing to slits when he recognised Fabien. He let go of the lady and took a step back, his face a mask of repugnance. The lady, however, remained motionless but for her hands which reached behind her to wrap around the vines at her back. It appeared to be the only thing holding her upright.

"I wonder if His Majesty is aware that his watch dog is spying on his betters?" Cassel drawled.

"Of course," Fabien said, barely resisting the urge to ram his fist down the duc's smug throat. "That is, after all, the entire purpose of my existence."

Cassel's eyes glinted with malice. "Your presence is not needed here."

"But I think it is." Fabien took a slow, intimidating step toward the duc, who backed up. "Rest assured that His Majesty will be made aware of his nobles accosting innocents against their will."

The duc's already pale face turned a little green. "You have no right—"

"I act on His Majesty's behalf. I have every right," Fabien interrupted, his voice dangerously low.

While he did not match any of the nobles in rank, his position as the king's chief of security was enough to command the highest respect. His word, in many instances, was considered as good as the king's. He did not mind if he was disliked by most, so long as he was feared by all.

"You will pay for this intrustion," Cassel intoned.

"Really? Just what are you going to do about it?" Fabien now stood before the duc, his superior height and size used to its best advantage. He knew he was intimidating up close, could already see Cassel's mind whirling, wondering if it had been in his best interests to antagonise the man who was, perhaps, closer than anyone else to the king.