Page 51 of A Very Roguish Boxing Day
And it occurred to her in a flash that he needed her, too.
“He has to stay here!”Gwen cried, her voice coming out shrill.“He has a ringing in his ears as a result of his many years of boxing.And my bees help him!Their buzzing covers the sound.He needs to stay here!He needs my bees!He?—”
Gracie laughed again, waving a hand in dismissal.“I can certainly afford a few hives of bees.I daresay I could make good money selling the honey.”She smiled up at Tom, and her beauty was almost breathtaking.“We’ll hire a beekeeper and have as many bees as you like.”
Gwen felt as if she might be ill.Because that was it.Gracie had removed the only reason Tom might have to stay with her.
A second later, Tom confirmed it.“Gwen,” he said, laying a hand on her forearm.“Why don’t you let me have a word with Gracie?Alone.”
Gwen nodded.So, he had made his choice, and it wasn’t her.It had been a foolish dream, to think that she could ever have married this man.
Gwen couldn’t have spoken even if there had been anything left to say, because her throat had seized up.Tom pressed her arm one more time, then let her go.Gwendolyn turned on her heel and walked out the back door into the garden, never once looking back.
Chapter22
Gwendolyn ran to the wooden bench in the back of her gardens, next to one of her blackberry beds.Of course, they were nothing but bare vines in December covered with a dusting of morning frost—an apt representation of the cold, desolate life that stretched before her.
She sank to her knees and laid her head upon the bench, sobbing into her hands.
After a time, there came a crunch of boots on the frosty path.“Right.I got rid of her.”
Gwen glanced up, and through her bleary eyes, she saw Tom striding across the garden.
He laughed.“What are you doing down there, bun?You’re going to get your gown all dirty.Wait.”His mouth fell open.“Have you beencrying?”
“Of course, I’ve been crying,” she sobbed.“I was on the cusp of marrying the man of my dreams, and then an impossibly beautiful woman showed up to snatch him away!”
He took her hands and helped her up, settling her on the bench and sitting beside her.He wrapped an arm around her shoulders.“She didn’t snatch me away.In case you haven’t noticed, I’m right here.And the only place I’m going is to the church to marry you.”
Gwen heard the words, but she could scarcely believe them.“But… You could marryher.She’s probably the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and?—”
“Trust me, her insides are every bit as ugly as her outsides are pretty.Do you want to know what she did to me?”
“What?”
Tom proceeded to tell her a horrible story, about how he had been young and in love and making plans for his future with Gracie, when he was sitting in the church one morning and the vicar read the banns for her and another man.“That’s how I found out,” he said, his voice filled with disbelief even after so many years.“In front of the whole village.”
“But that’s awful!”Gwen cried.
“You won’t hear any argument from me.”He ran a hand over his jaw.“I know it was a daft sort of idea, that I could go to London and make it as a boxer.But I had a plan.I was going to try it for a couple of years, working on the side.And if I hadn’t made it by then, I was going to find proper work as a smith.”
Gwendolyn huffed, irate on his behalf.“It obviously wasn’t daft at all.Look at you!You’re the heavyweight champion!”
He squeezed her hand.“Thanks, bun.But that wasn’t even the worst part.When I went to ask her why she did it”—he waved a hand, struggling to find the words—“she made me feel so small.Sostupid, that I’d ever thought she would want the likes of me.She made me feel worthless, if you want to know the truth.”
Now Gwen was crying again, because shehatedthe idea of Tom—kind, good-hearted Tom—feeling that way.“You’re not worthless,” she sniffed.“You’re the most wonderful man I’ve ever met.”
He gave her a speaking look.“See?This is why I want to marryyou, instead ofher.”
“But she’s so beautiful,” Gwen blurted.“Surely most men would want a woman like that… you know.In their bed.”
Dear God, what was wrong with her?Was she trying to convince him to leave her?
Tom rolled his eyes.“I’d a thousand times rather have you in my bed than her.”At Gwen’s skeptical look, his expression turned mulish.“No, I mean it.I’ve fucked her before, and do you know what she does?Fuck all.”He flicked his hand.“She just lies back on the pillow and waits for you to come and worship her.Which—don’t get me wrong—I enjoy the part where I’m worshipping you.But a fellow likes to have the favor returned every once in a while.It’s only fair, isn’t it?”
“Not that I am any great expert,” Gwen ventured, “but it seems fair to me.”
Tom squeezed her shoulders, a wicked gleam coming into his eyes.“Besides, you’ve got better tits than her.”
