Jasper swallowed and said low, “Tell me, madam, why having a plethora of likes is worse than being too fearful to pick one at all?”
She set her wineglass on the table. “I don’t like this conversation anymore.”
Silence hung between them for several heartbeats.
He sighed and pushed back from the table. “If you’ll excuse me?”
She nodded and he strode from the room, feeling as if he were admitting defeat. No, this wasn’t defeat; this was a short retreat to regroup his forces. Nothing shameful in that. Many of the best generals considered falling back much preferable to an all-out rout.
SHE’D COME CLOSE to revealing too much about herself this evening. Too much about her feelings for Vale.
Melisande pressed a hand to her lower belly as Suchlike pulled a brush through her hair. To have anyone, but especially Vale, be that interested in discovering her inner soul was seductive. His entire attention had been focused on her tonight. That kind of total concentration might very well become addictive if she wasn’t careful. She’d let her emotions take hold of her once before with Timothy, her fiancé, and it had nearly destroyed her. Her love had been deep and single-minded. To love like that was not a blessing. It was a curse. To be capable of—to endure—that unnaturally strong emotion was a kind of mental deformity. It had taken her years to recover from losing Timothy. She kept the reminder of that hurt close, a warning of what might happen if she let her emotions gain control of her person. Her very sanity depended on her strict constraint.
She shivered on the thought, and another pain hit her. The ache was low and dull in her belly, like a knot drawn tight there. Melisande swallowed and gripped the edge of her dresser. She’d been enduring this monthly pain for he hly paififteen years, and there was no point in making a fuss over it.
“Your hair’s so pretty when it’s down, my lady,” Suchlike said from behind her. “So long and fine.”
“Fine brown, I’m afraid,” Melisande said.
“Well, yes,” Suchlike conceded. “But it’s a pretty brown. Like the color oak wood turns when it ages. Sort of a soft blondy brown.”
Melisande stared skeptically at her maid in the mirror. “There’s no need to flatter.”
Suchlike met her gaze in the glass and seemed genuinely startled. “It’s not flattery, my lady, if it’s true. And it is. True, that is. I like the way your hair waves a bit about your face, if you don’t mind me saying so. Pity you can’t wear it down always.”
“A fine sight that’d be,” Melisande said. “Me looking like a sad dryad.”
“I don’t know about them things, my lady, but—”
Melisande closed her eyes as another pain squeezed her belly.
“Are you hurt, my lady?”
“No,” Melisande lied. “Don’t fuss.”
The lady’s maid looked uncertain. Naturally she must be aware of what the problem was since she took care of Melisande’s linens. But Melisande hated having anyone, even someone as innocuous as Suchlike, know such an intimate thing.
“Shall I fetch a heated brick, my lady?” Suchlike asked tentatively.
Melisande almost snapped at the maid, but then another pain hit her, and she nodded mutely. A wrapped hot brick might very well help.
Suchlike hurried from the room, and Melisande made her way to the bed. She crawled underneath the covers, feeling the ache reach long tentacles into her hips and thighs. Mouse hopped on the bed and crept over to lay his head on her shoulder.
“Oh, Sir Mouse,” she murmured to the dog. She stroked the tip of his nose, and his tongue darted out to lick her fingers. “You are my most loyal cavalier.”
Suchlike returned, carrying the hot brick wrapped in flannel. “There, my lady,” she said, shoving the brick beneath the bedcovers. “See if that helps at all.”
“Thank you.” Melisande hugged the brick against her belly. Another wave crested and she bit her lip.
“Can I get you something else?” Suchlike still stood beside the bed, her eyes worried, her hands twisted together. “Some hot tea and honey? Or another blanket?”
“No.” Melisande softened her voice. The little maid really was a dear. “Thank you. That will be all.”
Suchlike bobbed a curtsy and shut the door quietly.
Melisande closed her eyes, trying to ignore the pains. Behind her, she felt Mouse creep beneath the covers and settle his warm little body against her hips. He sighed and then there was silence in the room. Hhern the rer mind drifted a bit, and she shifted a little, groaning under her breath as her belly fisted.
A knock came on the connecting door and then it opened. Lord Vale strolled in.