Page 22 of The Lord's Compass
He let out a bark of laughter at that, backing away further from her. She smiled at first until she realized justhowhumorous he found the idea.
“I’m sorry,” she said, “I fail to see why the thought is so absurd.”
He reached out, placing a hand on her knee. “Because,” he said, “if it was up to me, we would have been married years ago.”
“What?” she said, sitting back sharply at his admission, astonished. “How can you say that?”
“I was ready to marry you, then,” he said with a sigh. “It was you that decided you wanted nothing more to do with me.”
Right. Because of what she had seen.
“I thought I was nothing more than a tryst to you. One of many women.”
“You were so much more.”
She took a breath, telling herself not to give in to his charms.
“Tell me this,” she said, turning toward him and bringing her legs up on the bed, crossing one ankle over the other, “If we had married, would you have been true to me?”
“True to you?”
“Yes,” she said. “Would you have taken any other women?”
“No,” he said vehemently, shaking his head. “Of course not.”
“You, Lord Ferrington, Eric Rowley, seducer of all women, would be satisfied with only one woman for the rest of your life?”
“Yes,” he said with no hint of doubt. “If that woman was you.” He leaned in closer to her. “Why can you not see what an amazing woman you are, Faith?”
“I—”
“Do not say it,” he said, placing a finger over her lips. “I don’t want to hear your denial. But I can promise you this. Until you believe it yourself, I will continue to tell you, for every day that we are together.”
“Why?” she asked, bewildered.
“Because it is the truth, and you deserve to hear it,” he said. “Now, time for bed.”
“Sleep on the bed,” she said, patting the mattress beside her and he nodded once, curtly.
Faith, still bewildered at his words, shuffled to the farthest side of the bed. Fortunately, Eric lay down on top of the blankets beside her, using the one from the floor to cover himself. He was such a large man that he took up nearly the entirety of the bed, even though she could tell he was trying to provide her as much room as he could.
“Comfortable?” he asked, his voice rumbling over the mattress.
“Yes,” she said, as she huddled into the blankets. They were thinner than she was used to, and she was a bit chilly, even with her wrapper still on.
“Are you cold?”
“No,” she said, but she couldn’t hide the slight shiver that overcame her.
She was facing the wall but felt him turn over in the bed, and suddenly she sensed a large arm hovering over her head.
“Come here.”
“I shouldn’t.”
“Do you want to?”
She couldn’t answer that aloud – for yes, she did. Very much so. And for more reason than simply warmth, although that was a bonus.
