Page 64 of The Unwilling Bride
“Alas, I must resist,” he replied as he reluctantly started for the door.
He gave her that small smile that made her knees weak. “For now.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
A FEW DAYS LATER, MERRICK looked up from the parchment he’d been reading and smiled as Constance peered into the solar.
As always, his heart thrilled just to see her face but, also as always, that feeling was swiftly followed by guilt that could only be assuaged by pleasing her any and every way he could.
“I thought Alan and Ruan were never going to leave,” she said as she entered the chamber. “You must have had much to discuss.”
“We did. This is a larger estate than I remembered,” he admitted, leaning back in his chair. He held out his arms and she, understanding his unspoken request, settled onto his lap.
“Have you come any closer to discovering who set the fire?” she asked, toying with a lock of his long dark hair.
He wondered if she had any idea how even that simple intimate action thrilled him, or how distracting the weight of her was on his thighs and shaft, but decided it was far too delightful a torment to enlighten her. “I’m sure Alan is doing his best to find out who set it,” he replied, caressing her cheek. “I’m less sure of Ruan’s enthusiasm, but it may be too late to learn much. The malcontent may be far away by now.”
She brushed her fingertips across his soft lips. “Peder hasn’t heard anything, either.”
He gave her a rueful smile. “I thought sharing such information with ‘them at the castle’ went against Peder’s notion of honor.”
“This is different,” she said. “The fire caused trouble for everyone, not just the king or the lord of Tregellas.”
He nuzzled her neck, inhaling the clean, warm scent of her. “How is the old fellow?”
“Well, although I hope he’s not summoned to fight any more fires.”
Merrick hoped so, too, and that Peder would continue in good health for several years yet. “Let’s pray we have no more such disasters.” Of any kind, he added silently, concern momentarily dimming his pleasure.
“With my dowry, we have enough to pay for the repairs to the mill, have we not?”
“Yes, thank God.”
“Has Ranulf made any suggestions as to who might take his place?” she asked, pressing kisses on her husband’s cheeks and chin.
He tried to concentrate on her questions. “One or two. It seems there was a Scot he thought would be a good choice, but when he suggested it to the fellow, he refused. Then, yesterday, the Scot and his woman left Tregellas.”
Constance frowned at that news. “I wonder why?”
Merrick shrugged, not particularly worried about a mercenary who decided to seek employ elsewhere, even if he was a good soldier. Thanks to the ongoing strife in the land, there were always plenty more. “Who knows? Perhaps he was not the sort of man Ranulf believed he was and didn’t like being singled out.”
“You mean he might have been outside the law?”
His lips traveled from her cheek to her shell-like ear. “It wouldn’t be the first time a thief or murderer has hidden in the ranks of foot soldiers. The king of France regularly empties his prisons when he has a war to fight.”
“Maybe my uncle or yours could send someone from their castle.”
“I’ll consider asking,” he murmured, not wanting to think about soldiers and fighting and the deeds of kings while they were alone.
“If we were in difficulties, I’m sure we could get money from our uncles.” She sighed and tipped her head back as he continued to kiss her. “But I’m glad they’ve gone home.”
“I’d be more glad if Beatrice had gone with them.”
Constance sat up straighter. “She’s not so very much trouble, is she?”
Merrick couldn’t resist teasing her. “Not when she’s quiet.”
Constance clearly wasn’t amused. “She’s not talking nearly so much these days,” she noted, frowning. “Inever thought I’d miss her chatter, but I must confess this new reticence makes me worry. She used to tell me everything, no matter how unimportant and now, well, she doesn’t.”
