Page 89 of Hers To Command
“I thought you didn’t care about what Roald had done to me before you came.”
How could she think that was why—? “I don’t!” he protested, pushing himself more upright with his right hand. “That was not your fault.”
“Ranulf says you no longer want to marry me. Why not, if that is not what troubles you?”
Damn Ranulf for interfering! “Did he not tell you why?”
“He mentioned some nonsense about your arm and your face, but surely you must know me better than that, Henry—or so I thought. As if I care that you cannot fight anymore! Indeed, it is a great relief to me to know that you cannot, after you broke your promise not to go into battle.”
He stared at her, dumbfounded. “But I am a knight! Unless I can fight, I am less than nothing.”
She regarded him without a jot of sympathy. “This Sir Leonard of whom you speak so highly—he goes about the countryside engaging in battles?”
“Not often—but we’re not talking about Sir Leonard.”
“Would you callhimuseless, even though he does not go to battle much himself?”
“No, but—”
“And who was it who planned the defense of this castle? You, was it not? Did you carry a shield when you did that?”
“Mathilde, that’s not—”
“Whose presence alone on the battlements inspired this garrison to fight as I never thought they could? Whose leadership gave us the victory?”
“Ranulf and Cerdic and—”
“Who took their orders fromyou.And our men obeyed you without question or hesitation because they knew you are wise in such things—and you are still wise, Henry. Do you think your only worth lies in your face? Or your shield arm? Of course not! It is in that clever mind of yours, and that has not been damaged. Your wounds will not hinder your ability to run an estate, or lead its defense, if need be. Your scars and crippled arm do not make you any the less of a man to me—or if they do, I must believe that what Roald did to me makes me less worthy of your love, in spite of what you say.”
He didn’t believe Roald had devalued her, and he never would. And yet…“Mathilde, it’s not the same.”
She put her hands on her hips. “How so? Because you are aman?”she demanded, her bold, brilliant eyes flashing. “Do you think me a silly woman after all, Sir Henry? Do you think I am too stupid to know whether or not a man is deserving of my love and respect? Or do you think I am so proud and haughty that I will spurn the man who saved my home, and me and my sister and all that I hold dear, because he was wounded doing so? You must not love me if you can believe that!”
“Mathilde,” he pleaded.
She ignored him. “You think because you have no money or estate that you cannot marry me? Would you then tell me Cerdic is not deserving of Giselle’s hand?”
Henry felt like he was trapped in a whirlwind—a very passionate, adorable whirlwind that was fast making him believe there could be hope where there had been none before. “Cerdic is marrying Giselle?”
“Yes, and soon, because she bears his child.”
In the face of his stunned silence, Mathilde raised an inquiring brow. “Perhaps you are not quite so clever after all, if you didn’t see the signs.”
“At this point,” he confessed, “I could believe you if you said I was Arthur, king of the Britons.”
She smiled her beautiful smile. “I admit I was slow to see it myself, she was so sly.”
Then her brows lowered and her eyes flashed with determination. “It seems Cerdic has something of the same silly pride as you, for he told her he was not worthy of her, either. But Giselle is not my sister for nothing, and she took matters…well, she tooksomething…into her own hands, and now he has agreed, as he should have when they discovered they were in love. So, although he had no estate or any money, and he has gotten my sister with child without marriage, I gladly welcome him as my brother-in-law. Are you so much better that you will refuse the love I offer you?”
Before he could try to explain, her expression softened, and she went down on her knees at his bedside. “For I do love you, Henry, with all my heart and soul, and you will surely break my heart if you leave me.” Her eyes shone with unshed tears. “I suppose I could take the bishop’s offer and become a nun, but I would be the most miserable nun in all the world. Is that the fate you sought for me when you fought against Roald?”
“Oh, Mathilde, Mathilde,” he cried, reaching down for her with his good right arm and drawing her to him. “I’m only thinking of you. You mustn’t be tied in marriage to a man like me.”
She drew back and regarded him with her flashing eyes. “No, you arenotthinking of me, my Henry. Otherwise, how could you even consider leaving me and breaking my poor heart? I want to marry you, Henry, and not because I pity you. There is nothing to pity. Nor do I want to be your wife out of gratitude, although I’m grateful for all that you have done, and how you make me feel.
“I admire you more than any man I’ve ever known, and respect you, too. You are wise, clever, brave—sometimes too much so. You make me laugh. You brought joy back into my life, and hope.” She lightly traced his lips with her fingertip. “You gave me back desire. Henry, I love you just as you are now. I willalwayslove you, no matter what the future holds.”
She smiled tremulously, shyly, bashful as he’d never seen her. “After all, I am no great beauty, either, and too bold for most men’s tastes. Yet I believe you want me, in spite of that. I am not wrong to have such hope, am I?”
