Page 55 of Hers To Command
She had been frightened, but not of him. She’d been afraid of the strength of her feelings, realizing that what she’d thought was love for Roald was but a pale shadow of what she felt for Henry.
Memories of Roald, the panic at being in a man’s arms, threatened to return, but she willed them back. This was Henry. Henry, her beloved. Henry, who might die for her.
She would allow no other shadows to darken her thoughts, no other man’s face to enter her mind. There was onlythisnight.Thischamber.Thisman.
No other man, no other night. No other kiss.
She eagerly leaned into Henry, pressing her body against his and gazed up into his desire-darkened eyes. “Make love with me, Henry, please,” she pleaded in a whisper. “I want you so much.”
He pulled away. “No, Mathilde. I can’t. I won’t.”
As she stared at him with dismay, Henry’s face clouded with anguish and remorse. “God’s blood, Iwantto be with you. There’s only one thing that I want more—something that is impossible, and because it is impossible, I have to let you go tonight.” He stepped back. “I cannot offer you marriage, Mathilde.”
Marriage? She’d had no thoughts, no hopes of marrying him. He should marry an unsoiled woman, untainted by another man’s touch. “I’ve said nothing of marriage.”
His brows furrowed with confusion, then rose as comprehension dawned. “You would make love with me with no promise of marriage?”
“Yes. You deserve a better bride than—”
“Oh, Mathilde, my love, my love!” he cried, pulling her into a tender embrace. “You misunderstood. Dear God, that’s not it all.”
Scarcely daring to hope, she drew back to search his face, his eyes, seeking the truth.
“It’s I who am not worthy ofyou.I’m a knight with no estate, no wealth, no home. I have nothing to offer you.”
“Nothing?” she repeated incredulously. “You call yourself nothing?”
“What am I but a merry gadabout with some skills and amusing stories?” he replied, very real torment in his confession.
She put her hands on his broad, strong shoulders. “You are not nothing, Henry. You are the man who made me feel whole again when I thought I was forever destroyed by what happened with Roald. You brought laughter and joy into my dark days. You make me feel safe. You gave me back desire. You are the man I love, Henry, with all my heart.”
“You mean that?” he murmured as if he was afraid to believe it. “You love me?”
“I love you, unworthy as I am—”
He stopped her with a kiss. “What happened with Roald was not your fault,” he whispered as he pressed light kisses on her lips and cheeks and chin. “He stole from you one thing, and that’s all. He thought he could conquer you, but you are made of sterner stuff.” His wonderful, joyful smile blossomed on his face. “And I am no virgin myself.”
Nobody else could make her feel as he did, could take the burden from her as he did with one look, one smile, and the perfect words. When she was with him, she was Mathilde as she used to be, before Roald had ever come here.
“Nor should you worry about money or an estate,” she said, happiness and excitement stealing over her in equal measure as he held her in his arms. “When we wed, I shall bring both as my dowry.” The old dread appeared at the edge of her optimistic joy. “Ifwe wed.”
“Oh, it will be when, Mathilde. I want to marry you more than I’ve ever wanted anything. I want you as I have never wanted a woman. I need you as I never thought I’d need anyone.” He went down on one knee and took her hand in his. “I’ve always vowed I would love my wife when I wed, and never until now have I found such a love. Although I don’t deserve you, will you do me this honor, Mathilde? Will you marry me?”
Her heart soared as she pulled him to his feet. “I should not accept. You could do better—but oh, Henry, I am too weak to say no!”
His smile was beyond glorious as he gathered her into his arms. “Weak? Not you. Never you, my love. You are many things, but weak is not one of them.”
He kissed her tenderly, and then with growing passion.
“Make love with me now, Henry, please,” she pleaded as his lips left hers to trail along her cheek.
He stopped and pulled back, a shadow in his eyes. “No man can say what might happen during a battle, and while I have confidence in our men and our plan, something may go wrong. I could be killed, and if I leave you with a child—”
“Nothing would give me more joy,” she said, meaning it. “I would beproudto be the mother of your child, whether we are married or not. As for anything else, the world already knows my shame. What more can people say about me that has not already been said?”
She watched him struggle, as she had so often struggled to keep back the black memories.
“Please, Henry,” she whispered, running her hands over his chest as she’d dreamed of doing, marveling at his strength and his ability to temper it. To be as tender as a youth in the throes of first love, and then as fierce as one of the Northmen of old. “Please, don’t send me away tonight.”
