Page 117 of Thus with a Kiss I Die
“Adulterers collide in the corridors, someone always steals the silver—”
“On the occasion of my first marriage, the great golden Leonardi lion vanished.”
“See? It’s not a memorable celebration unless there’s a disaster or two.” I beamed at him.
“You seem to take great delight in pointing out the possible catastrophes. Are you sure of your decision?”
“What decision?”
Cal looked at me.
“Oh! You mean . . . I’ve made up my mind to marry you for many good and logical reasons. I see no reason to change it.”
CHAPTER64
“‘Good . . . and logical . . . reasons.’ ”
Cal pronounced each word with such deliberation I suspected his displeasure, although I didn’t know why.
He gestured at the watching army of servants, bodyguards, and Friar Laurence, waving them away.
They retreated to the fringes of the vast room, but not a soul left and no one took their gazes off us.
Cal patted the bed beside him. “Here. I wish to speak to you without everyone hearing.”
I climbed up on the mattress and sat beside his prone form, my erect spine against the headboard and my legs stretched out straight beneath my skirts. For me to sit on a bed with him, a man of Verona, even though he was my future husband, was in every manner improper, but since I’d already been on the bed with him in front of a multitude of witnesses, and clearly had no intention of deflowering him, that seemed to have cleared the way.
In a low, stern voice, he asked, “Did Lysander not come to you carrying my blessing?”
“He did. We embraced, but in the end, my pragmatic nature won out. That night when you’d seduced me in my family’s garden, and forced the issue of our betrothal, you enumerated all the sensible reasons I would be a good wife for you, and I reacted as the daughter of Romeo and Juliet must, in chagrin that you were able to make such a cold-blooded list of my attributes.” I inhaled briefly, then settled myself solidly in my good sense. “But I am myself, and not my parents, and as you noted, I’m logical and practical, too. You have many worthy attributes also.”
“Indeed? Besides being the prince of Verona, and my wife will live in a palace?”
In irritation, I raised my voice. “Why do men think that’s all I care about?”
I viewed our avid audience, straining to hear a single word.
He shushed me. “Because for a woman, security is a sensible goal. I don’t deny that, nor do I disdain that.” Cal brooded over his assumption; then in exasperation, he said, “Lysander believed that, too?”
“You two have much in common.” I lowered my voice, but kept the exasperation. “To me, living in a palace is not an advantage. I have no desire to manage a large household as I currently do. I’m perfectly capable—of course, you’re right about that—but a lesser responsibility would be a pleasure. No, I was talking about you in yourself. Your character, which is honorable. I believe you’ll afford me the honors due your wife and hostess, and the mother of your children. I don’t think you’ll beat me.”
“Tempting!”
He had beads of sweat on his forehead. Perhaps when we were done, I’d recommend a dose of poppy juice to ease his pain. “And earlier when you held me and kissed me, you emphasized once again, as you did before, that our physical relationship will be mutually enjoyable.”
“Isthatwhat I emphasized?”
“Forsooth, so you did! And provided ample evidence.” I smiled at the memory. “My real concern is, at some time in the future, you’ll meet your One True Love, a lady who is out of reach because you’re married to me. I dread the idea of being an obstacle in such a circumstance, and I hope you’ll be discreet in your devotion to her.”
At this point, he . . . Frankly, I don’t know what happened. I thought he appreciated my sensibilities. Why not? They were both pragmatic and sensible.
Instead he grabbed my wrist in an unbreakable hold, looked at our audience, and said—no, commanded—“Get out!”
The servants fled. His men rose in unison and as a unit filed out. Only Friar Laurence remained, and he flatly said, “I will not.” Which told me he knew something about Cal’s mood I hadn’t yet comprehended.
A glance at Cal’s face enlightened me.
His usual smooth, calm expression had dissolved into a contortion of . . . frustration? Rage? Although I didn’t know why. “What did I say?” I asked.
