Jasper pulled his shirt over his head. He had been one of those ungallant gentlemen, no doubt.
Melisande laid the pillow down on the pallet. “He took me for rides in the park, danced with me at balls, all the things a gentleman does when he courts a lady. He wooed me for several months, and then he asked my father for my hand in marriage. Naturally, Father said yes.”
He sat to shed his hose and shoes. “Then why aren’t you married to him?”
She shrugged. “He proposed in October, and we planned to be married in June.”
Jasper winced. They had been married in June. He went to her and gently helped her out of her wrapper. Then he took her hand and lay down on the pallet with her. She shifted until her head was on his shoulder. He stroked his fingers idly through her long hair. Funny how much more comfortable a pallet could be with her in it.
“I had shopped for a trousseau,” she said quietly, her breath brushing his bare chest. “Sent out invitations, planned the wedding day. Then one day, Timothy came to me and told me he loved another lady. Naturally, I let him go.”
“Naturally,” Jasper growled.
Holden was a filthy ass. To lead on a young, gentle girl and then leave her nearly at the altar was the work of a swine. He stroked {e. s ahis sweet wife’s hair as if soothing her for hurts over a decade old and thought about their marriage and their marriage bed.
At last he sighed. “He was your lover.”
He didn’t bother phrasing it as a question. Still, he was almost surprised when she didn’t deny it.
“Yes, for a while.”
He frowned. Her tone was too flat. He stirred uneasily. “He didn’t force you, did he?”
“No.”
“Or threaten you in any way?”
“No. He was gentle.”
Jasper closed his eyes. God, he hated this. His hand had stopped moving in her hair, and he was conscious that he was gripping a lock.
He exhaled and carefully unfisted his hand. “Then what is it? There’s something more that you’re not telling me, my heart.”
She was silent so long that he began to think he’d imagined it in a jealous haze. Perhaps there was nothing else.
But in the end, she sighed, a lost, lonely sound, and said, “I found out I was increasing, shortly after he broke the engagement.”
Chapter Fifteen
When Jack returned with the silver ring, he paused only to change into his rags, and then he nipped down to the royal kitchens. The same small boy was stirring the princess’s soup. Jack once again asked him if he might buy a turn at the spoon. Plop! went the silver ring, and Jack was away before the head cook could spy him. He hurried up the stairs and to his princess’s side.
“Why, where have you been all day, Jack?” Princess Surcease asked when she saw him.
“Here and there, thither and yon, beautiful lady.”
“And what have you done to your poor arm?”
Jack looked down and saw that he had a cut from the troll’s blade. “Oh, Princess, I did wrestle a monstrous pill bug in your honor today.”
And Jack capered about until the entire court roared with laughter. . . .
—from LAUGHING JACK
Melisande felt Vale’s fingers pause in her hair. Would he repudiate her now? Get up and walk away? Or would he simply pretend he hadn’t heard her self-damning words and never speak of it again? She held her breath, waiting.
But he merely ran his fingers through her hair and said, “Tell me.”
So she closed her eyes and did, remembering that time so long ago now, and the pain that had nearly stopped her heart in her breast. “I knew at once what it was when I became sick in the mornings. I’ve heard of ladies being confused and waiting months to tell because they were not sure, but I knew.”