“If you laugh, Jerval, I will take a dagger to your . . . well, you will regret it!”
“Just remember, my love,” Jerval said softly, drawing her into his arms, “if that dagger of yours strikes, you will lose also. I will make you a bargain. I will speak to Graelam tomorrow, and also Sir Guy de Blasis. He seems a decent man.”
“I cannot say that much for his wife!”
“Hush now, woman. I wish to have my way with you.”
“I wonder,” Chandra said before succumbing to her husband, “what Blanche is saying to her husband. Do you believe he knows the truth?”
Sir Guy knew all there was to know about his bride. He had realized even before he had tricked her into marrying him that her relentless pursuit of Graelam had been primarily because of her fear for her son’s future. Well, perhaps not entirely, he quickly amended to himself, grimacing a little. But Evian’s future was now assured. Guy felt a good deal of affection for her, even enjoyed her tirades, for he knew that once in bed, she would forget everything but him. She was a passionate woman, one who was not always logical, and, unfortunately, quite single-minded. But that would change. He smiled at her now, lazily, listening to her rant. She never bored him.
“I do not want to be pregnant!”
“But you are, my dear,” he said mildly, “and you will remain that way. After you have given me two or three sons, I will allow you to take that vile potion again.”
“You are a beast!”
“A virile beast, it appears. I should keep you in bed all the time—it would save your temper and my ears and patience.”
“I do not want to be ugly, fat, and swollen! I do not want the pain of birthing another child!”
“Blanche,” he said, leaning over the small table between them, “I am truly sorry about the birthing pain. If I could prevent it, I would, but I cannot. As to your appearing ugly, you are being foolish. You will see that my desire for you will not diminish. You are my wife and my lover. It will remain thus, I promise you.”
“I am not a fool, Guy,” she said in a low, taut voice.
“I trust not, at least not anymore.”
She jumped to her feet, splaying her hands on the table. “I know why you married me! ’Tis that skinny little girl you love, not me!” She paled as the words poured out of her mouth, and she whirled about, presenting him her back.
Guy leaned back in his chair, clasping his hands behind his head. “At last,” he said with deep satisfaction. “You have finally admitted it.”
“I . . . I have admitted nothing! Admitted what?”
“That you love me, of course. It warms my heart, Blanche. Do you not realize there is no need for you to insult Kassia further?”
At her silence, he added softly, “Please turn around, my love.”
Blanche slowly swung about, but she kept her face lowered, her eyes on her soft leather slippers.
“You are doubtless the most stubborn woman in England. Come, love, at least yell at me.”
“I am not stubborn, and she was with that bitch Chandra de Vernon!”
“Are all the ladies at court bitches, Blanche? My poor love, how very trying for you.”
“I must admit that I did not like being in Joanna’s company,” she said grudgingly.
“Forced to take sides, my dear? And, it appears, you have chosen the wrong one, again.”
She wanted to tell him that she had baited Kassia because she was afraid for him. Afraid of what Graelam would do if he discovered her perfidy. I have been fine and fairly won, she thought. I love him, yet I am afraid to tell him so. Afraid that he really thinks me a spiteful witch.
Guy rose and walked to her, clasping her shoulders in his hands and shaking her a little. “Listen to me, wife. It is time for you to forget Graelam, Kassia, and Wolffeton. To forget your disappointment. It is time, you know, for you to accept me as your husband.” He paused a moment, examining his thoughts to make them into words. “I do not love Kassia. I felt protective of her, for a more innocent maid I have yet to see. But I wanted you, Blanche, despite what you did.” He shrugged, and added honestly, “I gained you, and saved Kassia from further of your . . . machinations.”
Her eyes flew to his face. “I . . . I did nothing!” Can I never cease lying?
He lightly caressed his fingertips over her lips. “I am not blind, love. There is no reason for you to pretend to me. I will admit that it would please me mightily if you would willingly go to Graelam and tell him the truth.” His eyes darkened, narrowing in thought. “Of course, Graelam, being as blind as he appears to be when it comes to women, would likely assume that I put you up to it. And seeing you soft and lovely from my attentions, I could not blame him. Perhaps ‘tis best to leave matters as they are, at least for the time being. I have a feeling t
hat they will work out things between them without any more of your interference, or mine. But attend me, Blanche. I will not allow you to direct any more mischief toward Kassia. Do you understand me?”