Page 63 of The Unwilling Bride
That, too, was true, and more dread filled her. “What ills are you expecting?”
“Rebellion. War.”
She stared at him, aghast, fear for her own fate submerged beneath a greater worry. She’d thought he’d meant conflict between them, or differences of opinion, not war. And although she was well aware that there were tensions and conflicts at court, she didn’t want to believe he was right. War was a brutal, ugly business thatled to death and destruction, sometimes for very little gain. “Do you truly think it will come to open rebellion?”
“I fear it might, and if it does, I’m tied to both the king and the earl of Cornwall. I’ll be forced to break my oath to one of them in favor of the other, and if my choice fails…”
He didn’t have to finish. She knew the result. He would lose all, including his life.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you, but you wanted to know what ills I spoke of.”
She rose and clasped her hands in the sleeves of her robe. “Yes, I did.”
As it had last night, that haunted look came to his dark, intense eyes. “Now, are you sorry we’re married?”
“No,” she answered firmly and sincerely. “I will only regret marrying you, my lord, if you treat me as if I have no mind or heart, that I am no more to you than a means to breed sons. I will be sorry we wed if you ignore me or belittle me, and especially if you treat me with disrespect. But if you treat me as a trusted friend and love me as you did last night, I will be more than content. As for your oath of loyalty to two different men, you aren’t the only nobleman in the kingdom to face such a dilemma. Sir Jowan is likewise sworn to both the earl and the king, and there are many others.”
His expression changed to one that thrilled and relieved her. “I would have you more than content,” he murmured, kissing her tenderly.
Sorry she had married him? If he was this way always, how could she be sorry? “I wish you hadn’t stayed away from Tregellas for fifteen years,” she said with a sigh of both regret and desire.
“I wish now I had not. But I was afraid to see you again.”
“Afraid?” she repeated incredulously, drawing back to stare at him in wonder. “To see me?”
“I was afraid you’d tell me you didn’t want to marry me.”
Still holding him loosely in her arms, she gave him a wry smile. “I didn’t want to marry you,” she confessed. “I hated you when we were children. But then you came home and were so different from what I expected.”
“How am I different?” he asked, a furrow forming between his brows.
“Your looks.”
“I’m older.”
“No, it’s more than that. You’re taller than I expected and your eyes…”
His lips grazed hers. “You’ve changed, too. You used to be so timid.”
“You used to be a horrid little brat,” she said, leaning forward to kiss him. “I could never love that boy, but I could love you. I do love you.”
His dark eyes were questioning pools of limitless depth.
She had said it, and it was the truth. “Yes, Merrick,” she said quietly. “I love you. If I didn’t love you, I would never have married you.”
As he looked at her, his gaze unwavering, her heart sank. Had her revelation been unwelcome to him? Had he believed she felt something less?
She could tell nothing from the glittering orbs gazing back at her. “I realize you may not love me,” she said as disappointment filled her, “that you married me because of the contract, but I hoped…I still hope that someday…”
He grabbed her and held her close. “Oh, God help me,” he murmured, his lips against her hair. “Constance, sweet Constance, I’ve loved you since I was ten years old and saw you sitting in that hay field. I’ve only ever wanted happiness and good fortune for you, and if instead I cause you to be unhappy, if I bring misfortune to you, I will curse myself forever.”
Joy and relief filled her as they kissed, tenderly at first, until passion flamed. “I hope to bring only good things to you, too, my lord.”
“You’ve already made me happier than I deserve to be,” he said.
He kissed her again, long and passionately, until he reluctantly pulled away. “And if I don’t go now, I may never leave.”
“Perhaps that’s my evil plan, my lord,” she teased, no longer afraid of him, or the future. “Maybe I seek to ensnare you with my desire.”
